Wesley (21 page)

Wes’ answer was a high-pitched sound that had to be a yowl. It sent shivers of need down Armando’s spine and he ground his hips against Wes’ ass. He had the strangest desire then, one that made his jaws tingle and water. He wanted to bite Wes, to sink his teeth in as deep as he could. It was the mate-bond, Armando told himself, and the idea of being bitten like that scared him.

Except he could see it happening, Wes doing that to him, and it didn’t scare him. Not then. Instead Armando withdrew and plunged back into Wes’ hole, driving him almost into the headboard.

Wes stiffened his arm and craned his neck, as if he knew what Armando was thinking—and maybe he did. Their mental link could be working, allowing Armando to share his thoughts.

And to receive Wes’. Armando felt his mate’s need as surely as he felt his own. His intentions to go slow and make it last were shot to hell when an image of him and Wes fucking and biting and snarling flashed through his head.

Armando rumbled, as close to a growl as he could make when he was using all his strength to pound Wes’ ass. He let his fingers catch at slick skin, tangle in hair. He let himself go, his instincts pouring out of him and into Wes with every hard thrust of his hips.

Never had Armando thought sex could be anything like this. It wouldn’t have been with anyone else, that he knew even as his thoughts boiled down to the needs of his and Wes’ bodies. He lapped at Wes’ salty skin as he powered into Wes, then as pleasure soared through him, his balls beginning to pulse with impending release, Armando gave in to his basest inclination and bit, marking Wes as his own.

Wes shouted and bucked beneath him. Hot spunk splattered onto Armando’s arm. Wes’ ass clamped incredibly tight around Armando’s dick, milking it mercilessly.

Armando tasted blood the second his climax shattered him. Blood on his tongue as cum shot from his dick, marking Wes from the inside out. Armando sucked and fucked his mate, shuddering and gasping until at last he was empty. He suckled the spot he’d bitten and forced his hands to uncurl where they were gripping Wes. Armando almost whimpered as he moved against Wes’ firm ass, but he had to lie down before he fell over.

Carefully, Armando forced himself to crawl off of Wes. “You okay?” he asked as his cock slipped free of Wes’ warm hole.

“Fuck yeah, m’awesome,” Wes mumbled, his legs flopping out behind him and tangling with Armando’s. “Gotta do that again in a few.”

Armando snorted, or tried to, but exhaustion was crawling over him like sugar ants on Cap’n Crunch. He wanted to tell Wes how amazing that had been, how amazing Wes had been, but his tongue felt as thick as his head, and his last conscious thought was that Wes curled up behind him felt almost as good as what they’d just shared.

Chapter Fourteen

Wes woke up sore and sticky, and possibly with a few bald spots from where the cum had trailed onto his thighs after the second time Armando had taken his ass. They’d been too tired to get up and shower, but Wes was thinking he’d learned the error of his lazy ways when he parted his legs and what felt like half the hair on them was ripped out.

“What’s wrong?” Armando asked in an adorably sleep-slurred voice. Since Wes didn’t have to worry about waking him up, he went ahead and bitched.

“Ouch. Lost some hair.”

Armando flopped onto his side and blinked. “Huh?”

Wes grinned so big he felt his ears move. “You’re not a morning person, are you?”

“Coffee.”

Well, that sounded like a plea to Wes. Or a brilliant idea. “I can do that. Might leave half my hide on the sheets, but it’s worth the caffeine.” Armando rubbed one eye and yawned. Wes unstuck himself as best he could and he sat on the edge of the bed. He had the warning dip of the mattress, then something hot and wet slid across the top of his ass crack. “What—” he started at the same moment that his body responded. It was quicker than his brain, apparently.

Wes twisted around, his back popping as he tried to watch Armando licking his butt. “I should shower.”

Armando peeked up at him. “You’re kidding, right? I got dog breath this morning.” He cackled for a second then nipped Wes’ cheek up high. “Nah, I have dick breath, and ass breath, and balls…” Armando went back to licking him.

Wes shivered as his dick grew erect. Armando had had his mouth on every one of those places many times during the night.

“Lean over and grab your ankles,” Armando muttered, the words playing over Wes’ skin, tickling the hair on his ass. “Do it.”

“You keep distracting me, and I haven’t had coffee,” Wes whined playfully as he bent to grab his ankles. He brought his chest down on his thighs and tried his best to get his ass up for both of their pleasure.

Armando rumbled wordlessly and hooked his hands under Wes’ ass. He pulled him open and blew on Wes’ pucker. Warm breath wafted over his sore tissues, and Wes spread his legs, trying to get his torso lower and his ass higher. The puffs of Armando’s laughter only served to stimulate Wes even more.

“Aw, don’t tease me,” he whined right before he leaned too far forward. “Crap!”

Armando’s laughter followed him down, or at least it seemed so to Wes as he sprawled on the floor. Then Armando was right there on top of him, curling his hips over Wes’ butt and dragging that thick cock between his cheeks.

“How sore are you?” Armando asked with a nudge of his cock against Wes’ balls. “Ohhhh, maybe I should just do this anyway.”

Wes spread his legs wide and pushed his backside up, which wasn’t particularly comfortable. “Uh-uh, get in there.”

He felt Armando’s fingers checking him, probably to see if he was slick still. He was. Wes could feel the slipperiness from earlier.

Armando didn’t say another word, just pushed into him so slowly that Wes wanted to shout for more—except it was perfect, the right amount of pain for the right reasons, the starbursts of pleasure bursting over his well-used nerve endings.

Wes hiked his left leg up more and Armando pulled out. “What? Why’d you do that?” Wes started to roll and found himself being helped along with it by Armando, who stared down at him with a fierce, hot expression.

“Because I want to see your face when you come, I want to see you when I do this—” Armando shoved at Wes’ leg and Wes lifted both of them to lock his ankles around Armando’s hips. “Yeah,” Armando sighed as he pushed that fat dick back into him.

Wes arched and stretched and did everything he could to get Armando in to the root, but Armando kept the control, giving Wes his cock in slow increments. By the time he was fully seated, Wes was dripping pre-cum. His fingertips ached, just like his gums did. He clawed at the floor, by now in the habit of keeping those sharp black tips away from Armando. His canines had extended and Wes turned his head too, only to have Armando grip his chin and pull until Wes rolled his head back around.

“This time, let yourself go. Do it,” Armando urged as he thrust in hard and deep.

Wes bowed, his body going taut with the surprising force of it. He thrashed his head and tried to dislodge the words Armando had spoken, the permission he’d given, but they wouldn’t leave him. Wes ached to claim Armando, if not by fucking him, then by marking him with teeth and claws. But Armando had been hurt, he’d been—

“Do it.” Armando snarled and gave him another jarring thrust. “You like it—no,you love it when I give in to that need.” He pulled out all the way and glared down at Wes. “Do you think I’ll be any different? Have you heard of a mate who hated being marked?” Armando slammed back in and Wes gasped, Armando’s dick like a baseball bat opening him up. God, the man had a thick, heavy cock!

“Do you think I’m breakable? Weak?” Armando asked, but Wes had enough sense left to wonder if Armando wasn’t asking himself the questions. Still, Wes stopped trying to tear up the floor and instead lightly trailed his claws up from Armando’s hips to his shoulders, then back down he went as Armando moaned and closed his eyes.

“Yes, do it again,” Armando murmured, pausing with his cockhead stretching Wes’ hole. “Harder.” Armando emphasised the order with a jut of his hips that had Wes’ eyes widening from the penetration.

Then Armando tore the rest of Wes’ control away by gripping his head and nape and lying down on Wes as he shoved into him with short, hard strokes.

The all-over body contact along with Armando’s demanding grip was too much. Wes roared just before he found the fleshy pads of Armando’s ass, then he scraped the soft skin there as he bit at the spot his instincts guided him to.

Armando’s shout rattled the windows. Spunk shot out from his dick, coating Wes deep inside. Wes’ own cock throbbed and pulsed, seed jetting from it with nothing more than the friction of their bodies and the taste of Armando on his tongue. The sweet-copper taste of Armando’s blood caused Wes’ cock to dribble more cum as Armando jerked on top of him. Wes held on to his mate until the wave of their climaxes receded and they could breathe without shaking so hard their teeth clacked.

“We’re gonna be really late,” Armando finally said some time later. “I texted Alisa while you were snoring a while ago. She should be making sure Sue knows we’re coming in late and that we have a plan.”

“Does the plan involve moving?” Wes asked. “’Cause I think I’m broken. I’ve been fucked until I’m boneless.”

Armando huffed and shoved a hand between them. “Well, you
are
still soft.”

And, with that jab, he jumped up and ran for the bathroom. Wes wasn’t as boneless as he’d thought, because he was up and racing after Armando in seconds.

Showering off could have led to more sex, but they had responsibilities. Plus, Wes wanted to leave before Sully or Bobby came sneaking around on the pretence of checking on him when they’d really just want to know the details of his sex life. Or they would do it because they cared about him. Either way, he wasn’t up for company other than his mate’s.

“You think we’re going to get busted since I’m wearing your sweats?” Armando asked as they walked out of the door.

Wes looked him up and down and shook his head. “Nah, because those sweats never looked that good on me. Your ass is divine, man.
Divine.
”

“You exaggerate,” Armando muttered with a pleased smile. “Come on, let’s go.” He turned then promptly stopped so quickly that Wes was barely able to keep from slamming into him, which would have sent them both ass over ankles down the steps. He heard Armando gulp and he slipped an arm around Armando’s hips just as he looked down to see Sully standing a few feet from the base of the stairs. Armando began to shake, and Wes lowered his head to glare properly at his brother.

“Sul, maybe you could go inside—” he started.

“No,” Armando said in a broken voice. “No,” he repeated, louder, surer. “I…” Armando shook his head but kept his gaze trained on Sully. “I owe your brother an apology. B-Bobby, too.”

“No you don’t,” Wes said at the same time as Sully. They gave each other a surprised glance before Wes looked at Armando. “You don’t owe anyone an apology, Armando. You didn’t do anything to them. You left, and that was all. You were the one who got hurt.”

Armando clutched at his hand and turned those dark eyes on Wes. “No. I did hurt them. Sully, at least. He just wanted to help me, and I threw a fit after he did what I encouraged him to do.”

“Mando, no,” Sully said.

“
Ar
mando,” Wes snapped at his brother. “His name is Armando.”

“Armando,” Sully repeated calmly. “I’m sorry. I’ll remember from now on.”

Armando shook like a chihuahua in a snow storm. Wes wrapped both arms around him from behind, and tugged Armando against him. “You don’t have to do anything. Just one word and Sully will go away.”

“It’s true, I will.” Sully wrung his hands together and Wes knew then how torn his brother was. Sully wanted to be friends with Armando, or maybe he still saw the street kid who needed a little kindness given to him. Wes hoped not, because while everyone could use the kindness, Armando wasn’t a kid, nor was he in need of any handouts.

Armando and Sully stared at each other for a long moment, then the sound of a door opening and shutting caused all to look towards Sully’s house, where Bobby stood on their porch, watching them in return.

“I can go back in,” Bobby finally said in his usual drawl. The normalcy of his reaction seemed to lessen the tension in the air, and Armando relaxed against Wes.

“Me, too,” Sully offered, taking a back step in that direction.

Armando craned his neck around and brushed his lips over Wes’ jaw before speaking again. “No, this is your home and it would be wrong of me to be an ass like I have been.” Armando pulled and Wes let go of him. Armando took his hand and began leading them down the steps.