Page 14 of Ours
Blake was close too, could feel it building at the base of his spine. And Cole—Cole must have sensed it because his movements became more eager, more desperate. He was pulling them both closer, positioning himself between them, mouth opening wider. The way he looked up at them, pupils blown, lips parted: he wanted it. Wanted them both to come in his mouth, to swallow them down, to take everything they had.
The eagerness in his eyes, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips between switches, the little whimpers he made when he had to let go of one to service the other—it was clear what he wanted.
Which was exactly why Blake wasn't going to give it to him. Not yet.
Blake's hand tightened in Cole's hair, holding him still. Cole made a confused sound, eyes darting between them, clearly not understanding why they'd stopped him when they were so close.
"Not in your mouth," Blake said, voice rough.
Understanding dawned in Cole's eyes, followed quickly by a fresh wave of arousal so strong Blake could taste it in the air. Cole's cock twitched, untouched, dripping steadily now.
"Keep it open," Blake commanded, his hand speeding up on his cock. "Want to see you painted with us."
Luca groaned at that, his own hand moving faster. They were both close, had been for a while. But they'd held back, wanting to draw this out, to make Cole understand that this wasn't a quick fuck in the woods.
This was a claiming. A beginning.
Cole knelt there, mouth open, tongue out slightly, looking up at them with complete trust. His hands came up to rest on their thighs, not demanding, just connecting. Grounding himself between them.
"Fuck," Blake gasped, feeling his orgasm building. "Just like that."
"Ours," Luca added, voice tight with control about to snap?—
Blake came first, streaking across Cole's face, marking that pale skin with white. Cole's eyes fluttered closed, but his mouth stayed open, catching what he could on his tongue. The sight of it—Cole painted with his come, still waiting for Luca—nearly brought Blake to his knees.
Luca followed seconds later with a growl that was more wolf than man. His release joined Blake's, marking the rest of Cole's face, dripping down his jaw, his throat.
Cole was a mess. Covered in their come, lips swollen, throat probably sore, knees definitely bruised. He looked debauched, claimed, thoroughly used.
He lookedperfect.
And the expression on his face—blissful, satisfied, completely gone for them—told Blake everything he needed to know.
7
Cole knelt in the dirt,face marked with their release, and tried to remember how to breathe.
He'd just... God, he'd just serviced two werewolves. Both of them. At the same time. The taste of them still lingered on his tongue, salt and musk and something wild that made his head spin. His jaw ached, a deep, satisfying throb that would remind him of this for days. His throat was raw, used, claimed. His knees pressed into the forest floor, pine needles prickling at his knees, and tomorrow the bruises would map out exactly how long he'd knelt for them.
He'd never felt better in his life.
The evidence of what they'd done was cooling on his skin—across his cheeks, his lips, dripping down his throat in obscene trails.
He was marked. Claimed. Theirs in a way that went beyond words or promises.
Anyone who saw him would know exactly what had happened, exactly who he belonged to. The thought should have mortifiedhim. Should have sent him scrambling for dignity, for boundaries, for some shred of the control he'd always clung to.
Instead, it made his untouched cock throb desperately, leaking against his stomach like he hadn't already been on edge for what felt like hours.
Yes, something primal whispered in his mind.Theirs.
Blake dropped to his knees beside him with predatory grace, Luca mirroring the movement on his other side. Before Cole could process what was happening, they were everywhere—hands stroking his arms, his back, his thighs with a possessive familiarity that made him shudder. Blake's mouth found his throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just hard enough to make Cole gasp before his tongue soothed the sting. Luca's fingers tangled in his hair, grip firm but careful, tilting his head back to expose more of his neck.
The submission in the gesture—offering his throat to creatures who could tear it out—should have terrified him. Instead, it made him melt.
"Still with us, baby?" Blake murmured against his pulse point, and Cole could feel the wolf's smile against his skin.
Cole could only whimper in response. Words were beyond him. Everything was beyond him except feeling—the heat of their bodies bracketing his, the way their hands seemed to know exactly where to touch to make him shake, the overwhelming rightness of being between them.
