Bloodlines (86 page)

With a growl, Randall moved, grasping Victor by the hips and all but tossing him toward the couch. Victor caught himself and kept his balance, one hand braced on the back of it. He looked at Randall over his shoulder, twisting his lips into a half smirk. He would admit to looking forward to their first full moon, though the anticipation of it had mostly slipped his mind in all the chaos of moving the Lewises in and having them stay. Even though he’d come to terms with David’s memories and the echo of self-destructiveness, it didn’t change the fact that Randall—when he was closer to his wolfish nature—was
very
attractive.

Randall stalked forward, stripping off clothes as he went. He carelessly tossed his sweater aside, kicking off his trousers, so much of his usual reticent nature now brushed aside in the brashness the moon seemed to give wolves. Randall confident under normal circumstances was one thing; this was a voracious
need
that Randall seemed unable to deny. For freedom, yes, for the ground under his feet, the wind at his back. But also for more carnal things—food, company,
him
. As Randall approached him, grasping Victor’s shirt and easily ripping it open, bowing his head to suck biting kisses along his chest, Victor wondered if this was how all wolves treated their mates on such occasions. They should probably invest in soundproofing if that were the case.

Mates
. It was a word that sounded so much more intimate to Victor than mere “husbands.” If asked, he couldn’t say
why
, only that the connotation of the word seemed more meaningful. He didn’t know if he and Randall would ever get to that point, but he sincerely hoped they did.

Far from the hesitation of their first night, they fit together so much easier now, like they had been reaching out for each other their whole lives. Randall’s fingers were deft on Victor’s pants, slipping into his pockets to find the condom and the lube Victor had been carrying around in awareness of the full moon since they’d gotten home. He felt more than heard Randall laugh, teeth catching against Victor’s throat.

“Someone’s prepared,” Randall murmured. He pushed Victor’s shirt back over his shoulders, sending one of the half-torn-off buttons flying, too anxious to get to as much skin as he could. He paused, taking a slow breath, as if realizing what he was doing. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, concern underneath the obvious want in his voice. “I’ve never… been like this with anyone on a moon. We’re getting closer. I don’t know what I’ll be like.”

“Don’t you dare stop,” Victor insisted. “And don’t worry about it. You were perfectly considerate in the garage.” Randall was already naked, which unfortunately meant that he didn’t have the pleasure of attempting to do his own clothes ripping—it did mean that he had the benefit of not wasting time doing it, though.

They came together in a clash of a kiss. Randall let go at the permission, his eyes shining yellow again. His touch was hard but not rough, firmly grasping Victor’s sides as they kissed. Victor’s pants were shoved off, kicked aside carelessly, and Randall lifted him up to sit on the back edge of the couch, keeping Victor steady with an arm around his waist.

Randall slicked his fingers with lube, hand shaking a little with the force of his want, with the little muffled growls he was burying against Victor’s skin. Jerking Victor forward so he was all but laid out on the back of the couch, Randall eased one finger inside of Victor, letting out a groaned, “God, you feel so good.” Victor breathed in sharply and tried to remind himself that moving too eagerly against Randall would result in falling off completely.

Leaning over him, Randall bit sharply at Victor’s shoulder, sucking hard at the skin, and added another finger. His movements were quick, hard, thrusting into Victor with an urgency that was mirrored in the tenseness of Randall’s shoulders, the frantic breaths against Victor’s skin. When Randall’s teeth closed on Victor’s scar, it was with a rumbling growl, a possessive sound that shook Randall’s whole body. “Mine,” he muttered, biting harder, sucking away the sting, pulling back only to go in again, worrying at Victor’s flushed skin as if he could claim the scar completely. “
Mine
.”

Victor was only dimly aware that he was leaving clawed scrapes over Randall’s back with his fingernails, his own version, perhaps, of the bite. He shifted, hooking an arm more firmly around Randall’s shoulders for better balance as Randall withdrew his hand. Randall pressed inside him, and their simultaneous groans vibrated through Victor’s chest.

Randall didn’t go for a gradual buildup, a slow and steady increase in pace. He simply wrapped his arm around Victor and thrust into him fully, pulling back almost completely before rocking back into Victor, hard and fast, groans and growls alike pulled from his throat. They moved together at a frantic pace, until Victor was sure that the couch had become barely involved at all, and surely Randall must be lifting most of his weight himself. He twisted his head to bite at Randall’s throat, sinking his teeth deeper than he’d ever done before, pleasure jolting through him at the resulting growl Randall gave and the way he moved harder in reaction.

It was desperate and primal, no thought spared for comfort, only raw need. Victor knew both of them would be covered with scrapes and bruises, and the thought only excited him further. Once upon a time he might have been already deciding to wear turtlenecks for the next week—now he liked the idea of proudly showing them off.

When he came, the force of it making him shake, he bit Randall’s throat again, still moving with him as they both sought Randall’s pleasure. Victor turned his head to catch Randall in a kiss that involved more teeth than usual, the clash leaving their lips bruised. “Mine,” Randall was saying again, voice almost lost in rough moans. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Victor promised lowly, his words stuttering at the force of their movements.

That seemed to be what Randall was waiting for. With one last hard snap forward, buried as deeply in Victor as he could be, Randall came. He pressed his face into Victor’s neck, he half howled in a guttural sound of release, and then, finally, he sagged down to the floor, taking Victor with him, both of them tangled up completely in each other.

Heaving breaths, they sprawled together, Victor still half on Randall’s lap. He could see the darkening skin on Randall’s neck from his bite, could feel the ache on his own from Randall’s teeth. And Randall, eyes half shut, had his head tipped back, grinning at absolutely nothing. Or rather, at everything all at once.

“God, that was good,” Randall murmured, running his hands up and down Victor’s back absently. “You okay?”

“Absolutely,” Victor replied, stretching his arms out from where they were still hooked around Randall’s shoulders. He felt more satisfied than he could remember feeling in recent memory. The ache was perfect; everything that Randall had said was perfect. He leaned in and gently kissed one of the forming bruises on Randall’s throat.

From outside there came the faint sound of a car door slamming shut and then a voice that Victor had not expected—Jed. He frowned, hearing Redford’s voice a second later, then Anthony’s.

“Apparently Jed and Redford have shown up to spend the full moon with you,” he said, though he supposed Randall would have heard it much more clearly. Victor kissed the bruise again, reluctant to let Randall leave. He was warm and comfortable on Randall’s lap. He didn’t want to move.

“I smell them,” Randall said, voice low, a rough tug to each of his words. He was busy sucking the bruises he’d left behind, laving the skin with his tongue. “Redford’s excited to run.” He seemed much less concerned with the prospect of moving very far from this spot, turning them over, Victor sprawled out on the floor, Randall hitching Victor’s legs around his hips. “I’m excited for this.”

Victor had to take a moment to contemplate exactly how lucky he was. He didn’t take
too
long, though, because he was much more interested in grasping Randall’s hips in encouragement. “That makes two of us, then.”

Two rounds later—once on the floor, Randall pinning Victor’s hands above his head and fucking him so hard that they’d wound up six feet away from where they’d started, and the second time with Victor pressed against the wall, Randall behind him, and probably a whole line of bruises down his back from Randall’s eager bites—they finally stumbled out into the yard. Jed was sprawled out with Redford in the grass, an already shifted Edwin happily chasing a stick that Jed kept throwing for him. Randall was holding Victor’s hand, jeans slung low on his hips, shirtless. It was pointless to get fully dressed, he’d explained, since he was just going to be taking them all off again.

And it nicely showed off his new marks, which Victor suspected might have had a bit more to do with the wardrobe choice. Evidently Randall got possessive on the full moons.

They apparently smelled very strongly of sex, from the way Redford wrinkled his nose at their approach. He was obviously holding back from shifting too, his face having taken on a more wolfish expression while he sat with Jed.

“I thought it was polite to call
before
one shows up at someone’s house,” Victor greeted, with no real bite to his tone. Two months ago he would have been irritated to see Jed. Now he felt… well, he still didn’t have any inclination to be his best friend. But the man felt like family, in a strange way.

“Princess.” Jed nodded, sprawled across Redford’s lap. Redford lifted a hand in a welcoming wave. Jed was sporting his own bites, reddened skin easily seen above the neck of his T-shirt. He grinned widely, starting to laugh. “Welcome to the club.”

“Thank you,” Victor said dryly, lowering himself to sit against one of the low stone walls that surrounded the gardens. It was at times like this he was thankful for the tall fences surrounding his property and the sheer size of the lawns. Even if someone did, somehow, get a glimpse through the fences, all they would see of the wolves in the low light was vaguely dog-like shapes.

As soon as Victor sat, Anthony appeared with an exasperated rumble directed at Randall and then Redford, who looked to Jed. “I’m going to head out,” Redford said. “Is that okay?”

Jed ran his fingers along Redford’s jaw, leaning in to kiss him. “Don’t have to ask me,” he said lowly. His hands went to lift the dog tags from Redford’s neck and place them around his own. The same was done with the bracelet Redford wore, the blue scarab from Cairo. “I’m going to be out here for a while yet. Probably will bunk down in the car. If you want me, you know how to find me, okay?”

“You will not be sleeping in your
car
,” Victor said, appalled at the idea. “If you’re staying the night, you’re staying in the house.”

Jed looked vaguely surprised when he turned to look at Victor. “You sure?” Jed’s gaze flicked to Randall and then to where Edwin was chasing circles around Anthony. “Already got a full house. We just needed a safe place for Red to run, and he wanted to be with some other wolves. You don’t need to give me a bed too.”

“I’m not asking you to
move in
. It’s just for the night so you don’t freeze in your car.” Victor waved a hand back at the mansion. “Do you really think it’ll be crowded in there?”

Jed gave the house an appraising look, absently running his fingers through Redford’s hair. “I’ve seen bigger.” He smirked, but he nodded his thanks too. Kissing Redford’s shoulder, Jed asked him, “That okay? Me inside for the night?”

“That’s fine,” Redford reassured. “Just try not to break all of Victor’s antiques when you get bored.”

“No promises.” They stood, hand in hand, Jed watching over Redford with a gruff kind of protectiveness.

Randall sat next to Victor, scooting closer, lips brushing against Victor’s shoulder, his jaw. “Come out,” he asked lowly. “Just for a little while. You can spend some of the moon with me.”

Victor glanced down at the shoes he’d put on—they would hopefully be adequate enough for a bit of running around. He stood too, as Redford started shifting next to Jed. It still looked painful and slow, but not nearly as much as it once had been. “Maybe I’ll have to get a bit fitter so I can keep up with you on full moons,” Victor mused to Randall.

“I think you kept up with me just fine,” Randall murmured, brushing a kiss across Victor’s lips, smiling. “Or do I need to remind you?”

Laughing softly against Randall’s lips, Victor swatted his shoulder. “Oh no, no reminders will be needed.”

“Get a room, you two,” Jed called. He’d knelt by Redford, rubbing his hands through his fur, smirking when Redford returned the favor by licking his cheek. “Or, better yet, don’t. I don’t need to see Victor looking any happier. I might get cavities.”

Rolling his eyes, Randall dropped his pants, neatly folded them, and left them behind on the stone wall. His turn was graceful, the sweep of fur over skin, the shift of muscles and bone to a longer, lean lupine form. When he was on four paws instead of two legs, Randall shook his fur out and trotted back to Victor to nudge his head against Victor’s leg.

Victor raked his fingers through the thick fur at Randall’s nape. “Shall I run?” he asked, bemused at the prospect. He had no idea how far he’d be able to run, but he was certainly willing to try.

Barking quickly, Randall crouched, forelegs flat on the ground with his tail in a playful wag. Though Victor still wasn’t an expert on wolf body language, he’d picked up a few things from his time in the pack. That was definitely an invitation to go play.

“I should invest in a Frisbee,” Jed said, half to himself, watching as Redford loped off in the direction Edwin and Anthony had gone.

“I don’t think a Frisbee would last very long, with a wolf catching it,” Victor huffed. He tugged at Randall’s fur again, inhaled a deep breath, and took off toward the trees at a run. Randall was at his heels, then racing ahead of him, a dappled blur against the ground, before rounding back toward him. Tail wagging furiously, Randall kept pace beside him, tongue lolling from one side of his mouth. They headed under the trees, Randall breaking away to dart after a squirrel and then coming back again, seemingly not bothered at all by Victor’s slower pace.