Page 63 of 20% Stud 80% Muffin
“Not yet.” He pulsed slower, pressing his fat head against my tine. Saliva pooled in my mouth as I watched him handle his cock, expertly trailing the plump head sideways over my tine again and again. My toes clenched as he drove me to new heights, and the fluffy part of my tail brushed over the tight pucker of his entrance. I brushed a featherlight touch here and a suctioning kiss there as he kneaded our cocks together.
The heat ratcheted higher and higher, the smell of summer fields and musk an intoxicating drug. But it was the intensity in Geo’s pale green eyes, a direct line to my soul, that toppled me over the edge. “Goddess, the things you do to me,” I breathed.
Geo’s eyes flared at my release. He tasted my ejaculate before coating his dick and finishing himself off, groaning as he watched his release coat the blue skin of my stomach like the white icing on my favorite cake.
“So hot, little lion.” Geo’s voice, now soft, had me never wanting to leave my furs again. If only I could have stayed wrapped in his warmth for eternity. All too soon, my blissful glow morphed into a reality check as muffled conversation drifted to us from the dining area.
Geo’s head snapped up, and his neck and face flared red. “Fuck,” he muttered as he stood, went to the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth to clean me up.
“I’m sorry, Makir. I fucked up again.” His eyes flicked from mine to where he cleaned up my belly, and his lips pinched together. “I’m just going to head home the back way.” He gestured to where the sliding doors opened onto the courtyard. Then he pulled on his pants, his undergarments forgotten in his distress.
Would wonders never cease. An alpha apologizing to an omega? Twice now.
“Hey, slow down.” I stood up and moved closer. “We’ve got this.” I smoothed my palm over the coarse hair on his face and leaned in for a kiss.
I unbuttoned his shirt, then rebuttoned it so the holes lined up correctly and scanned him fromhead to toe.
“My, aren’t you handsome this evening?” I brushed the palm of my hand over his shoulders, smoothing the crisp fabric.
He bit the inside of his cheek at my apparent approval. “Ginger brought me some new clothes.”
I dragged my hands down the arms of his navy button-up shirt and clasped his hands. “Feeling better?”
His chest heaved when he inhaled. “Let me put my underwear on.”
I took that for a yes and let go of his hands. With his clothes on the right way, I wove my fingers through his once more. “Ready?”
23
The navy button-up shirtGinger had brought me itched against my sweaty skin, and my belt buckle dug into my belly. It had been so long since I’d worn a dress shirt and pants that I’d forgotten how stifling they were. The confidence I’d built from Ginger’s constant oohing and ahhing and her occasional prod of my bicep had disappeared entirely. If I were Makir’s brother, I’d deck me.
When I’d found his door wide open earlier and the scent of two males on him, I lost my shit. I knew I’d gone overboard, dousing Makir in my smell. He now reeked of me, but I loved it.
I should’ve listened to JayJay when he told me to bring my ‘puppy doojies’ to help me relax. Charz and Pika were having so much fun with Sully’syounglings that I hadn’t dared take them with me, fearing they would give me evil looks for the rest of my life.
Instead of a short walk to the open kitchen where the dining table was, it was a torturous slog. As if my legs were mired in mud and plodding through a never-ending tunnel. Makir’s grip on my sweaty palm was the only thing grounding me.
Much larger than his brother, Bonic approached us from the long dining table. With his lips pressed into a straight line and his stride purposeful, getting a read on him was difficult.
“He’s not as scary as he looks. Try not to worry,” Makir whispered in my ear as his tail wound around my calf.
Bonic bowed and then rose to his full height. “You must be the male who has changed my brother’s eyes?” His lavender eyes scanned me from head to toe.
Makir’s grip loosened in mine, and his gaze focused on the floor. My forehead wrinkled in question.
Why is he talking about the color of Makir’s eyes like that?
His brother towered over me. Despite his regal bearing, I was still more embarrassed than afraid of him. As I wiped a sweaty palm down the dark fabric of my pants, I wished I’d asked Makir a lot more about his family. The lack of a heads-up that I might have to bow seemed like an enormous oversight on Makir’s part at this stage of the game.
My head dipped forward, and I tucked one arm behind my back and the other around my stomach while I leaned my body toward Bonic in what I hoped resembled a bow. I forced myself to not roll my arm in a flourish.
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” Then I repeated the gesture and greeting toward Jast. When I rose, I placed my hand on Makir’s back, kneading out the tension I found there in hopes of drawing his eyes off the floor.
Jast lowered her chin toward me. “I, Jast Tuniga, lifemate of Bonic Tuniga, happily meet you, Archbuilder Geo.”
Okay, that wasn’t so bad.
Raz’s voice rattled. “Archbuilder, anyone who knows-s-s anything about Lornians knows that a true mate has been found when their eyes turn from silver to lavender.”
