Sherman waked over to the table and sat next to Dalton. “Is it that obvious?”
Dalton held up his hand, his index finger and thumb an inch apart. “Maybe a little. That’s okay. My size intimidates a lot of people, but I’m just a soft teddy bear once you get to know me.”
Bear being the operative word. Dalton’s bear gave a low growl, trying to push him to take Sherman on the kitchen table. It was horny and ready to claim their mate, but Dalton knew that humans sometimes were hesitant to jump into bed with a stranger.
If nothing happened tonight, that was okay. Dalton wasn’t in any rush. They had a lifetime ahead of them, and if Sherman wanted to get to know him first, that was fine by him.
“A movie sounds good.” Sherman set his glass on the table, and Dalton noticed he hadn’t drunk any of his wine. Either his mate wanted to keep his wits about him while alone with a stranger, or he wanted to keep a clear head so they could have sex.
Or maybe he just isn’t interested in drinking.
Dalton got up. “Then let’s go find one we can watch.”
Sherman left his glass on the table as he followed Dalton into the living room. He took a seat on the overstuffed couch and grabbed the remote, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.
“I wanted to thank you again for getting me that job.” Sherman sat on the opposite side of the couch. “I guess nice people still exist.”
It was a sad statement that his mate couldn’t trust anyone, making Dalton wonder just what kind of life Sherman had had. Then again, it wasn’t as if Dalton’s life was peachy. In the past six months he’d slept with a string of men, trying to find someone who completed him.
A shifter didn’t like being alone. At least Dalton didn’t. He craved what every shifter wanted. A mate. Some went their whole lives without finding theirs, and that was a fate Dalton had feared.
But now he didn’t have to. Sherman was right there, his eyelids growing heavy as he snuggled deeper into the couch. At least his mate was comfortable enough around him to fall asleep.
When Sherman started lightly snoring, Dalton set his glass aside and sighed. So much for claiming the gorgeous man. He got up and lifted Sherman into his arms, carrying him to bed. If his mate was going to sleep, the least Dalton could do was make sure he was comfortable.
* * * *
Dalton woke and saw that it was still dark out. Then he felt a furnace next to him, making him remember that his mate was there with him. Dalton loved how his mate felt buried next to him. The man fit perfectly into the groove of his body. He even loved how Sherman smelled like a roaring fire and apple cider. Dalton lay there inhaling his scent and, even though he felt like a pervert, watching Sherman sleep. It was probably that only time—until he and Sherman got to know each other a lot better—that he would be able to study the smooth skin on his mate’s face, the way he puckered his lips while he slept, and how he was a blanket hog.
The longer he lay there inhaling the scent, the harder his cock became until he was fully erect. Dalton’s canines were growing as his desire flared. He couldn’t help his body’s reaction. Sherman was his mate, and the guy turned him on, though Dalton wasn’t sleazy enough to touch his mate while the guy was unconscious.
“Dalton?” Sherman asked into the darkness of the room, his voice filled with sleep.
“You fell asleep, so I made you more comfortable. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, I was just a little disoriented when I woke. I didn’t know where I was.”
Dalton saw perfectly in the dark and knew his mate was staring right at him. There wasn’t any fear in his eyes, just curiosity, and a little lust. His mate stretched, bringing their bodies closer together. It was as if Sherman was trying to rub up against him while pretending he wasn’t doing it.
Grinding his teeth to keep his control in check, Dalton simply lay there to see what else Sherman would do and how far he would go or if he would get up and demand Dalton take him home.
Dalton’s stomach flinched when Sherman glided his hand across it. The guy didn’t say a word, but he heard how shallow Sherman’s breathing had become. Dalton hadn’t undressed either of them, aside from removing Sherman’s shoes. He hated that they had barriers between them but hoped that soon changed.
Sherman grew bolder, his hand gliding downward toward Dalton’s raging hard-on. His mate scooted up, bringing their faces closer together.
Aw hell. Dalton wasn’t a saint, for fuck’s sake. He could take only so much contact before he took action. Still, he waited, making sure this was what Sherman wanted.
His mate pressed a hand to Dalton’s face then leaned up and kissed him. It started out slow, hesitant, until Dalton curled his arms around Sherman and yanked his mate to his chest. They moaned into each other’s mouth, as Dalton kissed first his mate’s jaw then his lips.
His hands slowly massaged Sherman’s soft skin, trying to relax his mate as he worked the shirt up inch by unhurried inch with his hands and then pulled it over the small man’s head. Dalton groaned when he saw how flawless Sherman’s skin was against the moon’s glowing light.
Turning until he was on his hands and knees over his mate, Dalton dipped his head and sucked in a tan nipple between his lips, teasing the small bead with his teeth. He used his tongue as a weapon against Sherman’s senses, making his mate moan in pleasure as he sucked the satiny skin.
It was a powerful feeling to watch his little human’s body writhe beneath his touch, knowing that he was bringing his mate so much pleasure. Sherman wasn’t hiding anything from him. He let his moans be heard, along with his hisses and whimpers. Inside of him, Dalton’s bear was growling his approval at him taking his mate, claiming the small man.
Dalton released the moist nipple, using his tongue to trail across his mate’s chest until he could give the neglected nipple some undivided attention. Sherman’s hands carded through Dalton’s hair, tugging at the strands when Dalton’s lips touched him once again.
His body was flooding with a heat that was only growing hotter as Dalton watched his mate struggle to breathe. His lips were parted, and his hands were clenching and then unclenching. He felt a strong and overwhelming need to touch and explore.
Dalton had always been a generous lover, making sure his partner was pleased first. The sentiment hadn’t always been returned, teaching him that not all men were as passionate about lovemaking as he was.
In his opinion, that was a sad fact. Sure, Dalton liked fast and hard at times. Who didn’t? But lovemaking was an art, a sensual exploration, and not a happy squirt and a wet ass. He wanted Sherman to remember this night for years to come, to blush whenever he thought of what Dalton had done to him, and to crave more, to crave him.
Dalton wanted to peel away Sherman’s jeans and lick the man from asshole to cock. His breath escaped on a rough growl as he ghosted his hands along the creamy flesh of his mate’s body. Sherman moaned as Dalton caressed and kissed his way down the man’s slim chest, over his abdomen, stopping at his mate’s navel to give the silky flesh a small nibble.
Sherman’s hips were rocking forward, the man making it quite clear what he wanted and desired. Dalton pulled the flaps of Sherman’s jeans apart and then rid the man of the interfering fabric.