Jacks, Marcy - Taken by the Alpha Wolf [DeWitt's Pack 9] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (4 page)

“Argh! Just. Like. That,” Blasius gasped, feeling the connection within them becoming stronger, tighter, binding them together forever with each thrust of Rhyan’s hips. Blasius could feel the other man’s balls slapping against the back of his thighs, and he delighted in the deep moans his lover released as they made contact with  his flesh.

Flesh in my flesh. My beating heart.

Then, Rhyan’s impossibly fast hips thrust faster, harder, and  Blasius had little choice but to come under the onslaught. He could not so much as reach down to stroke himself for fear that he could

lose his balance and land on his face should he take away one of his

hands.

Blasius’s pleasure shot out from his bollocks and straight through

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his cock and onto the pebbled rock and dust of the concrete beneath  him as he came with a hard shout. His entire body pulsed afterward  with the satisfaction he felt.

That had been just the thing he’d needed, and so much better than using his hand and much more pleasurable than what he remembered it being.

Rhyan had not quite finished. Blasius could feel the way the other man’s  body went tight with his coming release, but he continued to thrust his hips in quick succession, milking out Blasius’s pleasure.

Blasius looked over his shoulder in time to see Rhyan shutting those golden eyes of his, throwing back his head, exposing his  lovely neck, and shouting as he came. Blasius felt the warm fluids of his lover’s seed filling him, and he felt a great peace within him as that signaled their claiming had been complete.

Rhyan was not quite satisfied enough to stop there, it seemed, as

he removed himself from Blasius’s arse and flipped him around.

Blasius grunted as his back landed on the bits of splintered rock  and rubble that his fingers and claws had dug free from the hard  ground beneath him, but when he tried to move to adjust himself, Rhyan pressed his hand flat down on the expanse of muscle on  Blasius’s chest, keeping him down.

Rhyan growled a warning at him, and Blasius remained still,  regardless of any discomfort he might feel. Rhyan’s eyes were  becoming a darker shade of that gold  color. They were returning to  the brown color that Blasius knew and loved, but this new animal side

to him was not finished claiming him, it seemed.

Rhyan was momentarily distracted by his hand touching Blasius’s  chest, just over his heart.

Blasius put his hand on top of Rhyan’s, holding it tightly. “Do you  remember us? We used to lie like this often, and you were always  stroking me after, petting me like you thought I was a real dog or  some such thing.”

There was little that Blasius could recall of a life  he’d lived well

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over a thousand years ago, but he did recall the way Rhyan would  stroke his hair and chest after they’d satisfied their carnal hunger for  each other.

Blasius would tease the other man, saying that Rhyan truly thought him to be some sort of  animal that enjoyed being stroked by a

master.

That teasing was hardly enough to stop Rhyan from his continued petting or Blasius from enjoying it, despite his words.

Rhyan looked at him, his eyes flashing bright gold once more, and  Blasius knew that the wolf was back. Rhyan’s cock was as hard as though he hadn’t just fucked his mate, and Blasius was in very much the same state of arousal.

He reached down to stroke himself, delighting in the little jealous growl Rhyan released at the sight of another hand on Blasius’s prick.

The stamina of a werewolf was a gift. Blasius could not wait for  Rhyan to become completely in control of himself so that they could properly enjoy themselves.

Rhyan swatted Blasius’s hand away, lifted Blasius’s large legs over his shoulders, and then proceeded to fuck him again.

It took slightly longer for them to both come to their pleasure this time, as they had both just pleasured each other one minute ago, but that was the beauty of it, that this time what they were doing lasted.

Blasius could feel those little rocks digging into his back as Rhyan violently thrust into him, but the pulsing in his cock overpowered any pain he felt.

“Oh God, Rhyan!” Blasius shouted, noting how the sound of the other man’s name brought out more of the brown in Rhyan’s eyes. He blinked and shook himself, but continued on, hard gasps escaping his throat.

Rhyan nearly bent him in half when he reached down to place more of those biting kisses along Blasius’s neck, jaw, and lips, and  Blasius kissed back, using as much teeth and force as Rhyan dared to

use.

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Blasius brought his hands up, knowing he was taking a slight risk with Rhyan in this state, but he allowed both of his hands to land on  Rhyan’s neck.

Rhyan growled a warning at him but did not attack, and Blasius did not remove his fingers.

“I’m only touching,” Blasius said, having only a slight hard time of speaking as his body was bouncing along the ground. “You used to like that.”

Rhyan enjoyed being petted and stroked as much as Blasius did, during sex and after, it hardly mattered, but Blasius was more interested in playing with the little circular dragon birthmark on his lover’s neck. It saddened him that he would never see that dragon again. It had been a magnificent beast. His only hope was that Rhyan

would make peace with his new form and not mourn the dragon part  of him too deeply when the time came for that.

Then Rhyan fell on top of him with a deep, satisfied groan, his  hips jerking hard, signaling that he was nearing the end.

Blasius wanted to come  at the same time as his lover, he wanted

to reach that peak with him, so he reached down and fisted his cock,  biting his bottom lip as the pleasure of Rhyan’s cock in his ass was  coupled with his own hand around his thick, pulsing prick. He  humped against  his hand and against the thrusting organ inside of him  with wild abandon. The act served its purpose, and he was reaching  the end of his journey.

He could not help himself for what came next. He squeezed his  eyes shut, threw back his head, and shouted as his dick spurted his  seed across his belly. The sudden clenching of his anus made Rhyan  shout before he bit down on Blasius’s neck, muffling his cry.

Blasius’s arm began to hurt from the exertion of stroking himself,  but he did not stop until he was completely satisfied, and both he and  Rhyan turned into piles of slop on top of each other.

Blasius lay there, breathing deeply and enjoying the feeling of his  lover’s warm skin against his chest, of Rhyan’s beating heart, strong

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and proud, thumping between them.

He smiled and turned his head, kissing the man’s ear. He reached  down with his hand, searching for Rhyan’s so that he might intertwine  their fingers together, when Rhyan suddenly and unexpectedly leapt  off of him and ran for the door.

Bloody hell! “Rhyan! ”

Blasius gave chase, listening to the banging of the door at the top of the stairs to the cellar as Rhyan burst through them.

There were shouts from above, and that only served to increase the panic Blasius felt in his chest.

No! The other wolves would think that Rhyan was still wild! They would hunt him and kill him, thinking he would be trying to run for the village!

He burst through the already-broken door in his wolf form, having transformed quickly during his run to the top of the stairs.

There was the leading alpha’s omega mate already there, standing against the table and looking with startled eyes in the direction Rhyan had run off in.

The door leading to the outside of the large cabin had also been taken off its hinges as Rhyan burst free from the  house.

Blasius made it outside in time to watch his mate lift his head to

the sky and howl. Several alpha wolves surrounded him as Rhyan fell  to his hands and knees and shifted into the glorious form of his wolf.

He still seemed to be having trouble, though not with the  transformation itself.

Rhyan shifted into his wolf as smooth and clean as water flowing over a river bed of rocks, but Blasius could see the confusion in the

eyes of the wolf as he surveyed his surroundings, turning this way and  that, a whine escaping his throat.

One of the alphas stepped toward him, and Blasius released a  sharp bark before jumping in the middle of their circle. He growled at  all who dared to step near his mate. He did not care how kind these  wolves had been to him when Blasius first came here. He would skin

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alive the lot of them if they attempted to harm Rhyan.

“What is this? What’s going on?”

Blasius’s ears twitched, even though the words had been spoken

on the inside of his head.

He, and every other alpha surrounding him, j erked their heads up as one of the larger wolves in the pack approached them, dark brown in color and standing proud over the rest. The one with the scarred face. James DeWitt, leading alpha over this pack.

The abilities werewolves had to listen in on the  thoughts of other wolves was complicated and not quite as simply performed as most mortal humans would think.

Only the leading alpha could communicate in such a fashion with every member of his pack, and only werewolves who were mated could perform the ability with each other.

That meant that Blasius would be able to hear the words James

spoke, and eventually, Rhyan as well, once his human mind merged

properly with his wolf, but no one else.

James looked around Blasius to the other gray wolf behind him,

his ears twitching but not moving back, and the hair on his spine did  not rise with any sort of ire either.

“Your mate looks frightened.”

Blasius turned. That he did. Rhyan’s tail was between his legs, his  paws trembling and his body down and crouched, as though preparing

to run.

Blasius went to him, licking him behind the ears, willing his calm nature to flood into the other wolf until Rhyan was no longer trembling, but he still looked at the other wolves with suspicion and fear.

Blasius could hardly blame him. He searched deep inside of  Rhyan’s mind for the source of this and was not surprised when he could hardly find a thing.

“He is confused,”
 
Blasius replied.
 
“He does not know these alphas who mean to attack him.”

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Sometimes it bothered Blasius that he was  no longer the lord over his own pack. Had he still been in control, he would not be required to have this conversation, and the wolves would simply leave Rhyan alone on his orders instead of waiting on the word of another.

He was grateful that James was a  fair alpha, however, even if he did sometimes behave like an omega himself by conversing with his wolves rather than taking them by the necks and throwing them down.

James jerked his head at the others, and, as one, they dispersed from the circle that surrounded them. Though many did still leave parting looks of curiosity in Rhyan’s direction.

“He doesn’t look wild. Everything went well?”

Blasius nodded. His arse still burned from how well it had gone.

“Yes.”

“Good. Take him out running, keep an eye on him, and come back  when it looks like he’s run out of energy. Maybe he’ll be more willing  to talk after that.”

“Thank you, my lord,”
 
Blasius replied.

James gave him that look that he often did whenever Blasius  referred to him as a lord, but it could not be helped. Blasius was still  adjusting to the fact that alphas who led their packs were no longer  addressed as such. To him, James DeWitt was a landowner and in

command of his own pack. That made him a lord, the same way  Blasius himself used to be a lord, and damn anyone who said

otherwise.

Instead of arguing with him about it again, James simply nodded and, with a parting glance at Rhyan, walked away.

Blasius waited until it looked as though they were both alone but for the other omegas wandering around, completing their chores and such.

Blasius trotted over to his mate. Rhyan had stood straight now that the other wolves had left, and then he looked down at himself, his

snout lowering onto his body as he sniffed himself, circled around,

and in general, seemed to  be testing out his new limits.

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Blasius watched him for a moment. The wolf was always the one that had the most control for the first few transformations, but could it

somehow be possible that Rhyan’s mind, his former one anyway, was  still deeply buried in  there?