My balls tightened, signaling my coming orgasm. "I'm going to come, Phin. Do you hear me, baby? I can pull out." Please say no. This was a completely new desire. I'd always wanted to come, never cared where. Until now. I wanted my seed filling him, wanted to watch it leaking from him so I could gather it with my fingers and push it back in. I'd paint his body with my jizz, write my name across his back with it. I wanted it known, to shifter and human alike. Phin was mine.
"Don't think of moving," he gasped, urging his ass back. "Stay inside. I want to feel you in me."
I ran my fingers down his spine. He was so perfect. My need pulsed once sharply in my balls before exploding up my shaft, forcing a roar from my lips as my dick opened up. I kneaded his flesh, pumping continuously. Even after my dick was empty, I thrusted.
"I don't ever want to stop." I nibbled his neck, gently biting down on his earlobe. "You're mine now, really mine." I danced my hand up and down his spine. He carried my scent. If he came across another shifter, they'd sense he'd been claimed by an alpha. None of that had ever mattered until now.
I wouldn't worry about the change. I felt too good to worry.
"Don't stop. I've got all day."
I smiled, slow and evil because I didn't have anywhere to go either. I could spend the hours exactly where I was. I pulled him close, letting our bodies settle into the mattress. We'd fuck later, make love, maybe we'd even have a few quickies—preferably with him bent over the sofa, and the kitchen counter, and up against the wall—but for now, I just wanted to cuddle.
Chapter Twelve
Phineas
I woke from a dream. Someone was sucking my dick, and they were damn good at it too. I moaned softly and pumped my hips, hoping the dream would let me remain just a little longer. My dream dick sucker kept his tongue moving, laving over my shaft. As far as dreams went, this guy had blowjob skills I didn't personally possess.
Was that possible in a dream?
I opened my eyes, but the dream didn't fade. The mouth didn't stop. It sucked harder. "Nash," I gasped. With his tongue and lips, he brought the previous day rushing back. Nash wanted me. We'd kissed, had sex.
A whole lot of sex.
And he clearly wasn't done. I'd been fucked the night before until I literally couldn't be fucked any longer. At some point, I'd collapsed, exhausted and foggy from the sudden rush of oxytocin flooding my system. And I wasn't even sure Nash had stopped there, not that I'd minded. He had blanket consent to do whatever he wanted with me. I trusted him completely.
I knew that was crazy. We'd met for the first time not that long ago. But I couldn't help the steady rush of faith that I felt when I thought of him.
My dick slid to its limit down his throat, and I decided I could ponder the delicacies of faith and trust some other time. For now, I only wanted to grab what I could of his hair and thrust rhythmically into his mouth. Nothing was too much for him. My thrusts got a little out of hand. With me at the helm, they were bound to. But Nash took my dick however I wanted to give it to him. Something came over me. Some sort of boldly macho man took over my actions, and as I urged Nash's head down, his nose against my pubic hairs, I held him there.
Nash made a growling sound, and I released immediately. "Sorry!"
"Don't apologize," Nash said, wiping his mouth. He kept his eyes down, almost like he was embarrassed. "I liked it, but when you take control like that, it's difficult for me not to rise to the challenge."
"No, no, it was too far. I practically shoved my dick down your throat." I reached for the pillow to cover my face.
Nash tugged it away. If I thought he was gorgeous during the day, that was because I'd never witnessed him in all his morning glory. His hair stuck out, likely helped along by my endless tugging. His smooth face was rough with new growth. When his head had been between my legs, his stubble had scratched against my thighs like a cat's tongue.
"Listen to me, baby. I loved it. I want you to want me as much as I want you." He stopped and cocked his head to the side, making me think he was replaying that sentence in his head to make sure it said what he'd meant. "There is a part of me that yearns to dominate, at all times, so when you take the upper hand, he sees it as a challenge he's all too joyful to rise to meet."
"You speak like you've got split personalities," I said with a laugh.
He didn't contradict me. Not right away. I stopped laughing.
"It isn't quite like that, and I will tell you exactly what I mean, but after I taste your cum." He dove back down, returning to my dick that hadn't softened that whole time.
We picked up exactly where we'd left off, and though I was gentler, scratching my nails lightly along his scalp instead of pulling, it wasn't long before Nash got his wish, and I was hurtling to the rafters of bliss while he swallowed every lewd drop.
"I'm surprised I have any left," I groaned, sinking into the pillow while also feeling as light as air.
"You're right." Nash popped up and kissed my lips, sharing the taste of my release. "I need to keep you hydrated. And fed." He slipped off the mattress like a seal into the ocean. "Wait there! I'll bring you breakfast."
If I didn't know better, I'd have checked for an empty bottle of Felix Felicis under my pillow. This was all going too well.
"Ouch!" Nash bellowed from the kitchen.
My heart jumped in my throat. I sprinted to the kitchen, my bare feet slapping against the linoleum. "What is it? What's happened?"
Nash stood in front of the fridge, the door open, several broken eggs on the ground. "Why are you up? Breakfast in bed requires you to stay in bed."
Adrenaline raced through me without an outlet.
"Your fridge was a disaster. The eggs fell out. I'm sorry. I'll buy more."
Clearly, Nash thought my reaction was due to anger. "I don't care about the eggs, Nash. You said ouch."
There wasn't a pool of blood on the floor. That should have comforted me. Instead, I searched for the real injury.
"I bumped my head bending down trying to catch the eggs. I'm fine, Phin. Everything's fine."
He spoke with a soft tone that should have lulled me out of my hypervigilance, but I couldn't let the feeling go. I'd been happy for a moment, truly and completely happy, and then he'd been hurt. That wasn't a coincidence.
"Phin, I'm fine. Stop looking at me like you're expecting me to collapse." He left the mess of cracked shells and runny yolks, herding me back down the hallway with a strong arm around my waist.
"You got hurt."
"I bumped my head. If you want to apologize for something, apologize for the state of your fridge."
"I tried to buy things without cartoons on it."
He shook with laughter. "You did a good job."
He couldn't understand my fear. How real my worries were. "Don't patronize me, Nash! You could've been… it's only a matter of time before—"
"Nothing. Before nothing, Phineas. I know you think you're cursed."
I turned to him and lifted my face, catching his gaze and holding it. "I am."
He frowned, and his eyes pinched. "This isn't my first encounter with someone who could do extra things. That person believed they were cursed too."