Page 11 of Ours
It made shame impossible.
He leaned forward, tentative at first, lips brushing against the head of Luca's cock. The taste exploded across his tongue—salt and musk and something distinctly not-human that made Cole's head swim. His own cock twitched in response, a drop of precome falling to the dirt below.
Luca's breath caught, a sharp inhale that sounded almost pained.
That small sound shot through Cole like lightning. He'd made this dangerous, controlled wolf react. Him.
He opened wider, took Luca in properly, and the weight of him on Cole's tongue was perfect. Heavy, hot, stretching his lips in a way that made Cole moan without meaning to. The sound vibrated around Luca's cock, and the wolf above him cursed, low and guttural.
"Fuck, your mouth," Luca gritted out, his hand coming to rest in Cole's hair. Grounding him. The fingers twisted slightly in the strands, and Cole's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.
Cole had barely found his rhythm, barely figured out how to breathe through his nose while taking Luca deeper, when Blake moved.
Lips pressed against the nape of his neck, hard where Luca had been soft, hot where the night air was cold. Cole's whole body shuddered, nearly choking on Luca's cock as Blake's mouth traced the line of his shoulder.
"God, look at you," Blake breathed against his skin. "Taking him so well. Been thinking about that pretty little mouth ever since we caught you."
The words were crude, needy, nothing like the careful compliments Marcus used to give. "You look nice" or "That's good"—always measured, always controlled. Blake sounded wrecked already, just from watching.
Cole moaned around Luca's cock, the sound muffled but unmistakable. Above him, Luca growled—not threatening, butpleased. The hand in his hair tightened just enough to make Cole's eyes water.
Blake's hands joined his mouth in exploration, running down Cole's sides, tracing the curve of his spine. Every touch was deliberate, learning him, mapping him like territory to be claimed. Cole's skin prickled with awareness, every nerve ending firing at once. When Blake's fingers brushed over his nipples, Cole nearly choked, pulling back with a gasp.
"Sensitive," Blake observed, voice dark with satisfaction. He did it again, rolling one between his fingers, and Cole's hips jerked forward, cock bobbing untouched.
"Please," Cole gasped, not even sure what he was begging for.
"Please what?" Luca's voice was controlled but barely. His cock was wet with Cole's spit, standing proud and thick in the moonlight. "Tell us what you need, baby.”
Cole didn't know how to answer. He needed everything. He needed them to never stop touching him. He needed to drown in this feeling of being wanted, truly wanted, not just tolerated.
Instead of answering with words, he dove back in, taking Luca deeper than before. His jaw ached with the stretch, but it was good, grounding. He could focus on this: the weight on his tongue, the way Luca's thighs trembled slightly under his hands, the little catches in breath that told him he was doing something right.
Blake's hands never stopped moving—his sides, his chest, his throat. When Blake's fingers wrapped loosely around his neck, not squeezing, just holding, Cole made a sound he'd never made before. Something desperate and animal that would have embarrassed him if he could think straight.
"Fuck, you like that," Blake said, wonder in his voice. "Like being held."
Cole nodded as best he could with his mouth full, and felt both wolves react: Luca's cock twitching against his tongue, Blake's breath hitching against his neck.
They were learning him. Both of them, together, cataloging what made him shake, what made him moan, what made him forget his own name. It should have been clinical, calculating.
Instead, it felt like worship.
Cole hollowed his cheeks, sucking harder, and was rewarded with Luca's hand tightening in his hair. The pull sent sparks down his spine, made his own cock throb steadily.
Blake's hand slid down his chest, fingers ghosting over his cock but not quite touching. Cole whined, hips pushing forward, seeking contact that didn't come.
"Not yet," Blake murmured. "Want you focused on Luca right now. Want to watch you fall apart just from this."
Cole had never been good at multitasking during sex. Marcus had complained about it—how Cole would lose rhythm if he tried to do too much at once. But here, caught between them, the overwhelming sensation was the point.
Every time Blake found a new sensitive spot, Cole would falter around Luca's cock, and Luca would guide him back with that steady hand in his hair. They worked together seamlessly, one ramping him up while the other kept him grounded.
His jaw was starting to ache properly now, the stretch burning in a way that he knew he'd feel tomorrow. His knees were definitely going to bruise, small rocks and pine needles digging into theskin. His cock hung heavy and untouched between his legs, occasionally brushing against his stomach when he moved, each contact making him shudder.
He pulled back to breathe, gasping, strings of spit connecting his lips to Luca's cock. The sight was obscene, nothing like the clean, controlled sex he was used to. This was messy, animal, real.
"You're shaking," Blake observed, his hands running down Cole's arms, feeling the tremors there.
