Page 16 of Ours
They moved again, repositioning him between them with gentle hands that belied the hunger still burning in their eyes. Cole was boneless, pliant, letting them arrange him however they wanted. He trusted them, he realized with a distant sort of shock. Trusted these dangerous creatures who could tear him apart without breaking a sweat.
He ended up on his side, Blake pressed against his front, Luca solid and warm against his back. Surrounded. Safe. Theirs.
When Blake's cock slid between his thighs, Cole gasped at the sensation. So hot, so hard, the length of him pressing against sensitive skin still slick with sweat and spit. Behind him, Luca's cock nestled between his cheeks, not pushing in, just resting there with promise that made Cole's hole clench with anticipation.
"Is this okay?" Luca asked, and the fact that he was checking in, making sure Cole was still with them despite how wrecked he was, made emotion swell in Cole's chest. Even lost to their hunger, they were taking care of him.
"Yes," Cole managed, voice destroyed, rough like he'd been screaming. Which, to be fair, he probably had been. "God, yes. Please. Need you both."
They started to move, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that had them sliding against him in tandem. The slide of their cocks against him—Blake between his thighs, Luca between his cheeks—the feeling of being surrounded, claimed, used for their pleasure while his own body still hummed with satisfaction—it was everything Cole had never known he needed.
His own cock was trying valiantly to get hard again, overwhelmed by the sensation of being between them, of being the center of their focus, their desire.
Blake's hand came up to grip his throat, holding him—a collar made of flesh and bone that marked Cole as surely as any bite would. Luca's teeth found his shoulder, biting down just hard enough to leave marks that would scar, that would forever mark where he'd claimed Cole as his.
They were going to destroy him, Cole realized through the haze of renewed arousal. Take him apart piece by piece and put him back together as theirs. Mark him inside and out until there was no part of him they hadn't claimed.
He couldn't wait.
"Yours," he whispered, the word barely audible but carrying the weight of surrender, of acceptance, of want so deep it scared him. "Both of yours."
The growls that rumbled from both wolves at his words vibrated through his entire body, and Cole knew with bone-deep certainty that his life as he'd known it was over.
8
Luca had never believedin fate.
His whole life, he'd scoffed at the old wolves who talked about destined mates, about bonds that went deeper than choice or logic. He'd watched his packmates chase after every pretty thing that caught their eye, had rolled his eyes at their romantic notions, and told himself he was above all that shit.
But now, with Cole trembling between them, marked with their scent and pliant with trust, Luca understood with terrifying clarity that he'd been wrong about everything.
This human—this fragile, brave, absolutely insane human who'd walked into their territory like he belonged there—was his. Theirs. And Luca would tear apart anyone who tried to take him away.
"You sure about this?" he asked, voice rough with the effort of holding back. His cock was pressed against Cole, so close to what he wanted he could barely think straight, but he needed to hear it. Needed Cole to say yes when he wasn't drunk on pleasure, when he could still think enough to refuse.
Cole turned his head, meeting Luca's eyes over his shoulder, and the look there nearly undid him. Pure want, trust so complete it made Luca's chest tight, and something else—something that looked dangerously close to the possessive need burning in Luca's own veins.
"Please," Cole breathed, and then, more firmly: "I want this. Want you. Both of you."
The last thread of Luca's control snapped.
He pressed forward slowly, watching Cole's face for any sign of discomfort, but all he saw was need. Blake was there too, pressed against Cole's front, cock between Cole's thighs. When their eyes met over Cole's shoulder, Luca saw his own hunger reflected back. They'd shared a lot over the years—space, food, hunts, mates—but never like this.
The first touch of skin against skin made Cole arch between them, a broken whimper escaping his throat that went straight to Luca's hindbrain. Every instinct screamed at him to take, to claim, to mark until there was no question who Cole belonged to. But the human part of him, the part that had watched Blake gentle wild things since they were kids, forced him to go slow.
"Breathe," he murmured against Cole's ear, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin there while his hands mapped every ridge and hollow of Cole's back. The taste of salt and arousal on Cole's skin made Luca's canines ache with the need to bite.
Cole's response was barely coherent, just desperate little sounds that made heat pool low in Luca's gut. Blake was working him from the front, mouth hot and demanding against Cole's throat, hands everywhere, and Luca could feel the exact moment Cole'sthoughts scattered completely. His breathing went ragged, his spine melting against Luca's chest like he'd forgotten how to hold himself up.
Good, Luca thought fiercely, watching the way Cole's head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed.Don't think. Just feel us.
When Luca finally pressed inside, Cole's whole body went rigid for a moment, overwhelmed by the stretch and pressure. Luca had to grit his teeth against the urge to move, every muscle in his body screaming to thrust deeper.
The sensation was incredible—tight heat and silk and trust all rolled into one—but what really undid him was the sound Cole made. Not pain, not discomfort, just pure, desperate need that vibrated through his chest.
"Fuck," Luca breathed, watching the way Cole's lips parted on a gasp, the way his fingers scrambled for purchase against Blake's shoulders. "You feel so good. So perfect."
Blake was moving now, his cock sliding slow and deliberate between Cole's thighs, and Luca could see the way it affected them both. Blake's face was a mask of concentration and need, sweat beading on his forehead as he fought to keep his rhythm steady. And Cole—fuck, Cole was falling apart between them, caught between two different kinds of pleasure that had him making sounds Luca wanted to record and replay forever.
