A Family with His Werewolf Mate (4 page)

And moon be blessed, Dean could never get tired of his mate's
taste, so sweet, so sensual, so intense. After that first moment of surprise,
Will eagerly granted Dean entrance. His tongue tangled with Dean's, and he
melted against Dean's chest even as he did some exploring of his own. Being a
born Alpha, Dean naturally craved Will's submission, but Will somehow managed
to give him that while clinging to his own stubbornness. He was as demanding as
Dean's wolf, and Dean loved it.

His original intention had been to take his time, to make
love to Will's mouth, but it didn't work out that way. As Will's hands started
to roam over Dean's body, something inside Dean snapped. He couldn't breathe,
couldn't think because of all the need pulsing through him, buzzing through
every cell in his body. He tore his mouth away from Will's, hoping to tell his
mate what he wanted. He didn't have to, because Will nodded frantically,
fingers already working at the buttons of Dean's shirt. And it was crazy,
completely and ridiculously reckless. Dean could still hear the distant hum of
human voices coming from the carnival. Anyone could walk past and maybe catch
them. Nonetheless, Dean wanted this, as a wolf and as a man, with his instincts
and his heart. He might have managed to muster enough control to stop had Will
asked him to, but his mate wanted this as much as Dean did.

Still, the part of Dean that remained rational pointed out
they couldn't exactly tear their clothes off, since they would obviously need
the damn things later. He caught Will's wrists before he could rip anything,
drawing a disgruntled groan from his mate. "Let me," he told Will.
"Let me take care of everything."

Will opened his mouth to protest, but Dean stole the words
from his lips with a kiss. Will seemed to forget about what he'd intended,
which worked just fine for Dean's intentions. He released his mate's wrists and
focused on undoing the buttons of Will's shirt.

It was easier said than done. He did his best to keep a tight
rein on his control, but his wolf snarled inside him, telling him to get on
with it, finding the barrier between them unacceptable. With every inch of silken
skin he exposed, Dean was getting more and more lightheaded. By some miracle,
he managed to take off Will's shirt without tearing anything, but then Will's
patience died. His clever fingers zeroed in on Dean's crotch, and Dean's vision
went unfocused at the touch.

Just like that, the wolf inside him snapped free. With a
snarl, he pinned his mate against the pole that acted as the lone support of
their shelter. The tent shook as Dean pressed his body against Will's and
delved in to claim another kiss from Will's beautiful mouth. This time, though,
the kiss was not enough. His instincts guided him to undo Will's jeans, jerking
them down with far more violence than he'd have liked. Will helped, and soon,
Dean had his mate naked in the tent—or as naked as he could be. They hadn't had
the foresight to remove Will's shoes first, so his jeans were stuck against his
ankles, keeping Dean from spreading Will's legs and gaining access to Will's
tempting ass.

Well, that was a problem he had every intention of solving.
He rolled his mate away from the pole and positioned him face down on the
nearby table. Will moaned and pushed his ass out, even if he was obviously
having some trouble moving around because of his little issue with the jeans.
Dean dropped to his knees behind Will, but was distracted from his task by the
sight of Will's naked ass, just within his view.

He couldn't help himself. It was a compulsion that seemed as
natural and inexorable as breathing, as shifting. Dean leaned over and bit down
lightly on one of the pale cheeks. Will gasped, and the scent of his arousal
grew so potent it was dizzying.

It occurred to Dean that this would have been easier if he
had just stepped back and given Will some space to toe off his shoes, but that
idea involved him... well, stepping back, and that was simply unacceptable.
Besides, judging by the way Will was clinging to the table for all he was
worth, Dean didn't think his mate would even be capable of coherent action
right now.

In the end, Dean flipped Will on the table, leaving the
beautiful human seated there as Dean took care of the pesky remains of his
mate's outfit. It was almost ridiculous that he had to go through all this
fancy maneuvering for something so simple, but he had real trouble remembering
why he wasn't simply tearing the damn things off. In fact, once Dean was
successful in his task and got Will naked, he found he didn't have the same
patience for his own clothing. He tore his shirt open—simply because his mate
wanted him to—and snapped the buttons of his jeans, groaning when the action
made his hard as nails dicks spring out. Will made a noise that was
half-whimper, half-curse. "Come on, Dean," he whispered, his voice
wrecked and husky. "Fuck me."

Now that he could, Will spread his legs wide, and Dean was
seconds away from pouncing. In fact, he probably
would
have pounced had
he not noticed the slight tremor of Will's hands, the way his heart was
racing—and not just because of arousal.

Will was nervous. How could Dean have forgotten? His mate had
never done this before. To be fair, Dean had never had sex with a man either,
but in his long years, he'd encountered some more adventurous women who'd been
brave enough to take his cock up their asses. As such, Dean knew he needed some
sort of lubricant to smooth his way inside. The last thing he wanted was to
hurt his mate.

As it turned out, he was in luck. He caught sight of a jar of
Vaseline sitting innocuously on a nearby shelf. It was pretty much the best
thing he could get under these circumstances, and even if it would make
cleaning a bit of a chore, it would have to do.

Dean reached for the jar and uncapped it. His instincts
guided him to move as quickly as he could, to spread Will's legs and prepare
his mate for intercourse. He didn't, though, not just yet. Instead, he met his
mate's gaze steadily, struggling to control his own breath and racing heart.
"Are you really sure about this, baby? Tell me now. I don't know if I'll
be able to stop later."

"Yes, Dean. I... I told you... I don't want you to stop,"
Will murmured. "I want you to fuck me. Please, Dean.... Now."

How could Dean resist? After all, he was only a man—and a
wolf—and he had his mate in front of him, asking for his touch. It was too much
to withstand, and Dean's resolve broke like it had never been.

Fortunately, Will didn't need, or want his composure. It
seemed that his own words had made him reach a decision. He stopped trembling
and lifted his legs, exposing his hole to Dean's greedy eyes. Dean dipped his
fingers into the jar of Vaseline, slicking his fingers with a generous amount
of the substance. Unable to tear his eyes away from his mate's beautiful face,
he steadied Will's legs on his shoulders with one hand, while reaching for
Will's hole with the other.

Will released another of those sinfully beautiful noises, and
Dean heard what Will wasn't saying, felt Will's need as intensely as he did his
own. He rubbed his thumb over the rim of Will's opening, then softly inserted
one finger inside Will's virgin channel. He barely managed to suppress a hiss
at the feeling of tightness that engulfed that one digit. Will's ass clenched
around the invader like a hot velvet fist, and Dean could too easily imagine
how good it would feel around his dick.

But no, he couldn't rush this, couldn't just bury himself
into Will's body no matter how much he wanted to bring the two of them
together. He bit the inside of his cheek in a hopeless attempt to muster a
measure of control and gently pushed his finger in and out of Will, giving his
mate time to adjust. A gasp of "more" had him adding a second digit.
To distract himself from his own need, Dean focused slowly on Will's. It didn't
really work, of course. In fact, it was completely counter-productive. When
Dean crooked his fingers inside Will and found his prostate, Will clenched
around him with a choked moan. His cock jerked between them, the scent of his
arousal growing even more intoxicating. Dean couldn't... Moon be blessed, he
couldn't hold on for much longer. He needed to touch more, to taste more, to
make Will his.

Despite his decision to take things as slowly as possible,
Dean found himself lowering his mouth to Will's cock. As Dean gathered the
copious amounts of precum on his tongue, a muffled scream escaped Will. A brief
glimpse toward his mate told Dean Will had covered his mouth with his own hand,
apparently unable to remain discreet enough for their less than safe location.
His face was flushed prettily, pink with arousal and sensual strain, and his
green eyes had gone almost black with lust. Dean didn't think he'd ever seen
Will so beautiful before—not even when Will had sucked his cock.

The angle wasn't perfect, but Dean managed to suck Will's
cock into his mouth while still working his fingers into his mate's ass. He
scissored his digits inside Will, stretching his lover, preparing him for a
deeper penetration. He kept his suction light and teasing at first, acquainting
himself with this new method of pleasuring his mate. In truth, he'd never given
a blow job before, and he wouldn't have thought he would enjoy it as much as he
did. But oh, it was all glorious, from the feel of his mate's cock on his
tongue, to the flavor of Will's pre-ejaculate assaulting his taste buds, Will's
impossibly sexual scent, and the way Will moved, trying to get more, needing
Dean. Still, as satisfying as these touches might be, Dean had his eye on the
proverbial prize. He hadn't even taken all of his clothes off, but he had no
patience for it. It seemed irrelevant, a trite consideration compared to how
much he needed to be inside Will.

And maybe he wasn't being very rational, but he didn't think
anyone could have blamed him. Will definitely didn't. "Please," he
gasped out, having apparently mustered enough composure for this demand.
"Dean... Please."

Dean held on stoically, adding another finger to his mate's
body instead of following Will's urge. What seemed like an eternity later, he
deemed his mate ready. He was tempted to make Will come with his mouth, but
he'd already prolonged this to an almost painful extent. He mentally vowed to
do it the next time they had sex and released Will's cock with a wet pop.

Will whimpered, his hips thrusting against thin air, as if
trying to get Dean's mouth back. When Dean pulled his fingers out of Will's
ass, the whimper turned into a moan, which Will proceeded to muffle again with
his hand, much like he had earlier. Dean wanted to kiss him, to soothe him
somehow, and since the circumstances didn't allow that, he brushed his nose
over Will's in a gesture humans called 'an Eskimo kiss'. For wolves, it meant
something different. It was the way they expressed affection while in shifted
form, and while he'd never do that with Will, the emotions that came with the
gesture remained the same when Dean was in his human shape.

Will settled down a little, and Dean used the respite to
slick his cock up with a generous amount of Vaseline. He made sure Will was as
comfortable as possible—considering the fact that he was practically bent in
half with his legs over Dean's shoulders and lying on a table that was probably
not intended for such activities—then positioned his dick at his mate's
entrance. Holding Will's gaze, he slid inside.

Both of them groaned as Dean's cock head popped past the ring
of guardian muscle. Dean took his mate's example and muffled the sound, biting
his lower lip so hard he tasted blood. In hindsight, it wasn't all that
surprising. Dean's teeth had sharpened into wolf canines as his instincts
reared to the surface, and even now, he ached to bury them in Will's flesh, not
his own.

Something held him back, however. The almost painful pleasure
gave him a moment of clarity, and he realized he hadn't actually discussed with
Will what a claiming would entail. He'd explained bits and pieces, but not
this. Such a step was a huge commitment, and the human might not be ready.

Reining in the wolf who tried to get him to change his mind,
Dean slowly worked his cock into Will's body. He focused on the here and now,
on pleasuring his lover and making sure Will didn't experience any pain. He stopped
moving completely when he caught sight of the grimace of discomfort on Will's
beautiful face. Damn it. No matter how hard he tried, Will was new at this, so
of course it would hurt.

The knowledge kept him in check, despite his natural instinct
to thrust. He remained still all throughout what must have been some of the
longest seconds of his life. Or was it minutes? He couldn't tell. Time seemed
to be playing tricks on his heated mind.

At last, after what felt like forever, Will relaxed and
nodded, giving him wordless permission to continue. Dean complied, although he
didn't thrust like his body might have wanted. He just rocked slightly,
allowing Will's flesh to get used to the invasion. Slowly, his patience yielded
results, and Will began to move against him. They found a pace, and it was a
little clumsy at first, but that clumsiness didn't last, instead being replaced
by rightness. Soon, their bodies fell into a perfect rhythm, like they'd been
lovers forever, like this was not their first time, but instead, a reunion.

And maybe that was truly the case, because Dean had always
felt he'd known Will far longer than he actually did. Maybe they'd loved each
other in another life, or maybe their souls had been bonded before they'd even
met. Either way, being here with Will, finally taking what he'd craved for so
long, was a dream come true.

Soon, the rhythm grew faster, not quite violent, but
definitely not slow and gentle as it had been before. The table creaked in
protest, and Dean realized his mate would definitely not be comfortable on it
now, even if they didn't break the damn thing. He briefly stopped his thrusting
to change their positions, wrapping Will's legs around his waist and then
lifting the human off the table and into his arms.