Page 23 of Little Howl of Moon

He tasted like bitter black coffee and the sugar-sweet answer to all my problems.

His hands smoothed over my chest, his touch exciting me.

“Good morning,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here,” I croaked. “Much better now that you’re here.”

“Good.” Oliver's thighs clamped around my hips, and he smiled down at me as he leaned back, reaching behind him to close his hand around my cock.

It was like a shockwave hit my body, and I arched up, crying out as he started to move his hand up and down.

My rut came roaring back. Pleasure crackled through my nerves. I was so desperate to be inside him. So fucking desperate.

“I loved watching you sleep,” he whispered. “You really do snore in the cutest way.”

I grunted, wanting to apologize for keeping him up, but he tightened his grip around my cock and all words failed.

“Don’t apologize to me,” he demanded. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Oli leaned over, kissing me once more before he slid from my body and off the bed. I started to protest, but then I realized he was grabbing the bottle of lube. The cap clicked as he flipped it open and poured a generous amount in his hands. He joined me back on the bed, lubing up my cock, and then prepping himself for me.

I was helpless. I could barely move. I laid there, every muscle heavy as I watched him.

My mate.

Without a doubt, he was meant to be my mate.

I couldn't believe I've ever been resistant to the idea of being mated. It felt silly now. Looking at the man I was meant to be with, I was filled with a sense of awe. Gratitude even. He was mine, and I was meant to be his. All of the logistics could come later, all of our worries for another day.

In this moment, in this room, I was his.

“Okay. Let’s give this a try,” he said.

He swung his leg over me, guiding the head of my cock toward his hole. My hands settled on his hips, and I lifted him with ease, helping him hover right above me so that he didn’t take too much at once.

“Are you sure?” I worried about being too fucking big.

“Absolutely sure,” he said. “I want to feel your werewolf cock pulsing inside me.”

Fuck. I was going to lose it. Just hearing him say that, I could feel pre-cum dripping down my shaft and all the way down to my knot and balls, both heavy and waiting to unleash.

Fuck. What about my knot?

I opened my mouth to say something, but then Oli sat back, taking the first couple inches of me. I cried out, gasping for air as his hole closed around me.

Nothing else in the world felt this good. The toy we’d used was good, sure, but having Oliver sink his body down mine and taking every single fucking inch, his expression cracking with pleasure—there was nothing better. Absolutely nothing better.

It took every ounce of control not to immediately thrust up. I was fighting for my life. My claws dug into the blankets, ripping the new sheets. Fuck, I really needed to buy him more. Especially if I was gonna keep tearing them up like this.

But before I could feel an ounce of guilt, all thoughts flew out the window, and my focus was solely on him.

The silver in Oliver's hair glinted from the morning sunlight. His head fell back on a moan, his hips rocking. His cock hardened, stiffening as he sat all the way down, only stopping once he bumped against my knot. My swollen, throbbing knot.

Honestly, I was impressed. I hadn't been so sure he’d be able to take me.

Oli let out a string of curses, his eyes fluttering. “You have a big fucking cock, Steel.”