Stuff My Stocking: M-M Romance Stories that are Nice and Naughty (6 page)

But when a warm tongue caressed the side of his face, Cy started in surprise. The pup looked away as if embarrassed by the spontaneous canine caress. Cy watched him in amazement. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him, nevermind kissed him.

“What is your name, little wolf?” Cy couldn’t resist stroking his hand along the ruff of fur that grew at the back and sides of the boys neck like a brindle mane.  It was thick and warm and infinitely fascinating. As he ran his fingers through it, the boy arched up into his touch.

“Wolf,” the boy replied on a sigh.

Cy cocked an eyebrow—not exactly doubting the little wolf, but…“Really?”

Wolf shrugged and looked away—embarrassed again. “No one ever bothered to call me anything else.”

Cy studied the side of Wolf’s long muzzle and the line of his strong head as it curved up to the tip of his sharp, pointed ears. “It’s a good name. Wolves are strong, loyal and brave,” he finally announced firmly—leaving no room for doubt or ambiguity.

Wolf looked up at him in surprise. Cy had to wonder if the boy had ever received a complement—even an offhanded one such as the one he had offered. He’d have to work hard, but for however long the boy chose to hang around, Cy wouldn’t begrudge them when earned.

“Are you hungry, Wolf?”

“Y…yes, Master.”

Cy allowed a small smile of pleasure to tilt the corner of his mouth. He liked the way Wolf said the word Master—low, rough and with an edge of longing.

****

Wolf cocked his head as he watched the gorgeous man in front of him turn and head into a small cooking area.

Mage, he corrected himself instantly. The man was most definitely a Master Mage. The power swirled and throbbed around the man in shimmering eddies so strong Wolf almost felt as if he could reach out and touch them. And for the first time in his life he wanted to. In the past, mages had always scared him just a little, but not this one. Something about this one’s magic was…enthralling.

The man had mesmerizing eyes too. Intense, dark blue orbs that Wolf was drawn to over and over again—despite having been warned repeatedly during his training to keep his eyes lowered in submission. Even more inappropriately, Wolf found himself wondering what the man’s soft, enticing pink lips would taste like.

And the long, black hair that was caught in a leather thong at the base of his neck tempted Wolf’s fingers mercilessly. Two large hanks had escaped, framing the mages long, thin face, and Wolf wanted to reach out and touch them so badly—to see if they were as soft and silky as they looked. He managed to restrain himself…just barely.

Studying the man’s profile, Wolf once again found himself studying the scars on the man’s face. They were three, long, thin red claw marks that made the man look fierce and…strong in Wolf’s opinion. Wolf imagined they belonged to someone that had been tested and proven themselves worthy of survival. Someone that was quite capable of fighting to defend both themselves and their home. It was infinitely attractive to Wolf, whose silly heart longed for that sort of safety and security, and a Master to tie him to it.

Being a mage, Wolf would have expected a lot of things—disgust at his appearance being first and foremost. Mages didn’t like imperfection and differences. But this mage didn’t seem at all concerned by his oddity. In fact, he seemed a little…taken with it.

He was just so different from anyone Wolf had ever met—mage or shifter. Wolf wasn’t exactly sure what to do with him. At that precise moment Wolf’s cock twitched again, letting him know that if he had no idea, it had a few to offer.

Wolf shivered as he remembered the touch of the man’s magic playing along his body. It was…incredible. A wild, lustful pull that called to his wolf nature, whispering promises of mating and bliss and…home. Wolf shook his head at his own foolishness. He was being utterly ridiculous. Why on Rigial would a Master Mage give him a second glance, unless it was to stare as his strange appearance? He was—

“Something wrong?”

“N…no, Master.”

Something inside Wolf stretched out towards the mage. He wanted to rub himself all over the man until their scents blended and fused. He wanted to touch and be touched. He constantly had to stifle the growls and whines of invitation in the back of his throat. His body wanted him to lift his hips, cock his tail and brace his limbs for the man to plunge his cock into him in a wild, thorough claiming.

“So…where did you come from anyway, little wolf?” the Master asked casually as he filled a bowl from a large pot with thick stew.

Wolf managed not to fidget as he eyed the bowl hungrily. He wanted the food, but there was no way he was telling the gorgeous man in front of him he was a runaway. And not even a useful, valuable runaway. He was a freak. A curio. Part of a travelling show going from holding to holding for the amusement and awed disgust of the nobility and nosey.

He just couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. He didn’t want to see the interest he saw in the other man’s eyes dim. But worse than that, he secretly knew that his heart wouldn’t survive seeing pity in the mage’s eyes.

The question of whether or not the mage would withhold food if Wolf refused to answer was solved when the warm bowl was placed in Wolf’s hands. He lapped at it eagerly—gulping it down before the man could change his mind. But the Mage just smiled at him indulgently as he lowered himself into a large, wing-backed chair by the fire.

A rush of wind that rattled at the windows heralded the arrival of the storm. Wolf shivered just thinking about being outside it in.

“Looks like we got you in just in time,” the Mage observed.  

“Thank you, Master,” Wolf whispered—so grateful he felt his heart ache a little with it.

“You’re welcome, Wolf.”

Wolf quickly finished his meal and looked around, uncertain what to do or where to be. He took his bowl back to the kitchen area and carefully washed and dried it.

“Why don’t you bring some cushions to the rug and enjoy the fire.”

Wolf sighed. A full belly, a warm fire and the howl of the wind outside, it was an offer too tempting to refuse. Doing as the Master suggested, Wolf gathered the cushions, tucked his legs into his body and curled his tail around himself to settle at the Master's feet.

After a few moments, a slim hand caressed Wolf’s head, running his long, agile fingers over his ears and down his neck. Wolf pushed into the touch, craving more of the delicious contact. He sighed, closing his eyes in bliss. Not willing to question the perfection of the moment. And never wanting it to end. 

****

Cy ran his hand back through the long fall of his hair—brushing the errant strands away from his face in frustration. Wolf was driving him absolutely insane. Not necessarily in a bad way, more as in “I want him bad”.

Last night’s storm had raged into the early hours of the morning, but now the forest was calm and still. The sun was even peeking out through the clouds—showcasing the forest in a glittering wonderland that belied how deadly, and lonely it could be.

Cy looked over at Wolf curled contentedly on the hearth rug. Somewhere between the food and intermittent conversation long into the night—before sleep had finally claimed them both—Wolf had calmed and settled in.

Somehow, Wolf had found a neat little place for himself between the warm fire and Cy’s cold heart.

It was a shame the pup was about to get the fright of his life.

Crouching down at Wolf’s side, Cy gently stroked Wolf’s head. He settled his hand firmly over Wolf’s muzzle as golden brown eyes flickered open—demanding silence.

“Ssh! Don’t move. Trust me to keep you safe.”

Even as the words left his mouth, a heavy fist pounded on the door. Wolf’s eyes grew wide and wild with fear. Cy held his breath—waiting to see what the boy would do. If Wolf trusted him, then everything would be fine. More than fine actually. If Wolf bolted, things were going to get ugly. And Cy would lose another little piece of himself—his faith in his instincts. Instincts that told him Wolf wanted to trust and ultimately submit to him.

After a moment, Cy removed his hand. The pup stayed absolutely still except for the rapid movement of his chest as he panted in fear. That was perfectly acceptable—courage without fear was meaningless.

Cy studied Wolf for a moment. His submission—the control and dedication he displayed in doing exactly as he was told—was stunning. It sent a flood of excitement through Cy so powerful he had to take a second to find his own composure, before rising smoothly to his feet and calmly opening the door.

Outside, in the clearing that passed for Cy’s front yard, a small group of heavily armed men were clustered together, fighting to control their nervous horses. Cy ignored them in favour of staring down the two guards that stood on his doorstep. He carefully kept his demeanour neutral—neither welcoming nor outright driving them away. Though the temptation was strong.

The man directly in front of him—the one who had most likely pounded on the cabin door—cleared his throat. “Good day to you, Sir. We’re—”

“Master,” Cy said coldly.       

“Huh?”          

Cy pointed to the lintel where is mages sigil was displayed. Admittedly it was tarnished with weather and age—long since browned so it nearly blended in with the wooden frame—but that was no excuse. He was quite within his rights to punish them all for the lack of respect afforded his station. And the men knew it. They paled to a rather sickly shade of white-green.

“I beg your pardon, Master Mage. Forgive me.” The pair stepped back—bowing low at the waist, their hands clutching over their hearts in a frantic bid to appease.

Cy stood silent and aloof.

“We…ah…we’re chasing a runaway slave. It’s sneaky and dangerous, with a monstrous appearance. Have you seen anything…weird in the area lately?”

“No.”

The first man blinked, waiting for Cy to elaborate—perhaps even watching for a slip or a sign that something was amiss. The second man shifted from foot to foot, looking out into the forest—either worried about the possibility of another snow storm or wanting to run away from Cy. The guards trying to calm the nervous horses behind them looked like they were hoping for an invitation to come in out of the weather—obviously having missed Cy pointing out the sigil.

All of them were going to be bitterly disappointed. Cy didn’t flinch. Cy didn’t give a toss if the men hunting Wolf froze to death. And he certainly wasn’t in the habit of inviting strangers to stay—barring gorgeous wolf-boys with warm golden eyes and tight furry asses, of course.

“Well, we…ah…we—“

“Yes, good day, gentlemen. I suggest you leave my land by sunset.”

With that, Cy closed the door in their faces. He paused long enough to reach out with his magic and feel the group clamber up onto their mounts and hurry away—the tang of fear following them out of his clearing.

Then he turned back to the frightened wolf cowering on his rug.

“You’ve been a very naughty pup, haven’t you?”

“No, Master! I…I’m a good boy. A good pup.” Wolf swallowed visibly, the silky smooth hair on his throat undulating under the nervous wave of muscles. “Y…your—?”

Wolf didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

It was way too soon. Way too fast. There were a million words to say between them. A thousand touches and, hopefully hundreds of soft sighs and little whining cries. And if Cy was very lucky, perhaps even a few tears. Still, the unspoken offer—the promise of something one day—was…tempting. More than tempting. It was…intoxicating.

Which is the only explanation Cy could come up with years later for what happened next.

Surging forward, Cy gripped the thick fur at the back of Wolf’s neck and yanked him closer—pulling him up from the floor until they stood toe to toe. Wolf followed eagerly, and was quickly pinned against Cy’s body.

Holding him firmly in place, and acting purely on instinct, Cy rubbed his face along the side of Wolf’s head, stopping only when he came to the base of one tall, triangular ear.

“Should I make you prove yourself, pup?” Cy whispered. “Prove that you’re a good boy?”

Wolf whined, but pushed closer to Cy at the same time.

“P…please, Master.”

Oh! So pretty!

Cy reached down and took Wolf’s cock in his hand. It was hot and hard. Swiping the tip, Cy also felt how wet it was—pre-cum spilling out of the slit to coat his thumb.

“Eager little pup. Do you like that?”

Wolf whined and nodded, burying his head against Cy’s neck.

“Tell me. I want to hear you.”

“Y…yes…Master. Oh! Please…”

Wolf’s velvety warm tongue licked over Cy’s neck, sending shivers of delight racing up and down his spine. Cy felt his cock throb in his pants, seconds away from release when Wolf caressed the lobe of his ear and hesitantly reached out to clutch Cy’s waist. 

It was too much. Cy released the boy’s cock and took a step back. He didn’t want to come in his pants—not when there were better, more attractive alternatives.

“On your knees, pup.” 

For a moment, Wolf looked confused by the instructions, but quickly lowered himself to the floor when Cy continued to stare at him—waiting for his order to be obeyed. He couldn’t help but smile when Wolf’s snout nosed forward in tiny, involuntary jerks, sniffing the air around Cy’s groin. He knew the instant Wolf caught the scent of his arousal—the pup’s eyes widened as he began to pant.

But Cy had other plans for that long, pink tongue.

He released the leather ties on his pants and pushed the material aside so his cock sprang free—bobbing enthusiastically in front of Wolf’s face. Wolf focused on it so completely that he actually started in surprise when Cy spoke several seconds later—trying to get his attention. Cy applauded the boy’s dedication, but he wanted the pup’s tongue on him. Now!

“Lick it,” Cy repeated, holding his cock steady and offering it to Wolf. 

Slow and hesitant, Wolf leaned forward and tentatively lapped at the rounded head, swiping the drop of pre-cum that had formed at the slit. Chills of pleasure raced across Cy’s skin, forcing a moan of bliss from him. The more he moaned, the braver Wolf got—it seemed foolish to hold it in.