Page 32 of Midnight Mate
Slick heat built as Bayne worked the tip past the ring of muscle. The pressure stole Clint’s breath. His body clenched around Bayne, desperate and greedy.
Slow but steady, Bayne pushed. The ache gave way to pleasure, then something deeper. Clint wanted him as deep as he could go.
He bottomed out, hips snug against Clint’s ass. They both groaned, the sound almost symphonic. Bayne held himself still, just letting Clint feel every inch, every throb of his cock deep inside him.
“God, you feel incredible,” Bayne breathed. Honey-colored eyes filled with hunger and need gazed at him.
Pressure spiked every time he thrust. Clint couldn’t believe how good it felt, so full. Bayne rolled his hips, grinding against his ass, making Clint moan.
Sweat dripped down his forehead. His muscles shook with restraint.
“You want it harder?” he growled.
“Yes! Fuck me.”
Pulling almost all the way out, Bayne slammed home. The motion knocked the air from Clint’s lungs, but he wanted more.
He wrapped his legs around Bayne’s waist, ankles locking at the small of the man’s back. Bayne fucked him deep, slow and perfect at first, then picking up speed. Each stroke made Clint’s cock throb. He was so close, he could barely think.
Leaning down, Bayne bit his neck, then licked where he left the mark. He stroked Clint’s cock in time with his thrusts.
“Fucking love how you take me,” he said, voice rough with effort. “So tight. So good. All Mine.”
That word undid Clint. He arched up, digging his fingers into his wolf’s arms. “Yours. I want it, Bayne. All of it.”
He kissed Clint, messy and hard, while he fucked him right into the mattress. He kissed Clint, messy and hard, while he fucked him right into the mattress. No chance Clint would last. It was too much, too good, better than anything he’d ever had.
Then sharp teeth grazed the spot where neck met shoulder, and Clint’s entire body went tight.
“All mine,” Bayne growled and sank them in.
Pleasure exploded through Clint. His orgasm shattered, vision whiting out as he spilled over his fist. Simultaneously, warmth flooded him as Bayne pulsed inside him, hips grinding deep like he wanted to crawl inside and stay there.
Bayne eased his canines free, licking the wound as Clint’s heart stuttered then suddenly synced with another rhythm. He could feel Bayne’s heartbeat like it was inside his own chest.
Clint couldn’t explain how he knew this. He just did.
Then something shimmered like moonlight on water between them. Through his pleasure-drunk haze, Clint watched a ribbon of silver mist rise from Bayne’s chest, unfurling in the air like smoke from extinguished candles.
It twisted upward, seeking, until it met the emerald vapor that had begun ascending from Clint’s own sternum, the green glowing with the deep verdancy of forest shadows.
The ribbons spiraled together in lazy, hypnotic loops, two serpents courting in midair. For three heartbeats they hung suspended, before the green shot into Bayne’s body like an arrow finding its mark, and the silver slammed into Clint’s with enough force to steal his breath.
“What was that?” Clint gasped, his body still trembling from the aftershock.
Behind him, still buried deep, Bayne’s breathing was ragged “The most incredible thing I’ve seen.” His hips jerked forward involuntarily, drawing another gasp from Clint. “We just witnessed our bond sealing.”
A strange feeling pooled in Clint’s chest where that silver ribbon had entered. The sensation started spreading, rich and warm, like honey pouring slowly over heat.
He felt connected. Like someone had installed a direct line between them, and now he could feel Bayne everywhere—not his thoughts but his presence. As if he’d known this man his entire life instead of two days.
Which was completely ridiculous. You just had sex with a wolf shifter, saw green vapor escape your body, and now you’re bonded for life. Yet it’s a sensation you freak out about? You’re ass backward.
Still, it was strange as hell feeling someone else’s pulse like an echo of his own.
They collapsed together, Bayne’s weight pinning Clint against the mattress. Not crushing, just grounding. Sweat cooled on their skin while they caught their breath, neither moving except for the occasional twitch of oversensitive nerves.
Bayne traced lazy patterns on Clint’s stomach. His touch left trails of warmth, or maybe that was just Clint’s overwrought nervous system refusing to calm down. Either way, he found himself leaning into it, seeking more contact even though his body felt wrung out.
