“How old are you?”
Terry blinked at him. “What?”
Morgan leaned in until their noses were practically touching. “You used your fingers before, but I need you to say it. How old are you?”
Terry squeezed his eyes shut, and for a split second Morgan worried that perhaps he was hurting the smaller man.
Then he looked up and noted the way Terry’s fingers had gone again. Terry looked at them, too, squinting his eyes to see them right.
One hand with two fingers up, and the other with three.
“Two, three,” he said.
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“Twenty-three?” Morgan clarified.
“I…Yes. Twenty-three. I am twenty-three,” he said with
conviction in his voice.
More than old enough, though he was still so damn young.
Still, the knowledge that he wasn’t pinning down a minor and pressing his cock into his hip was freeing, and this time, Morgan was the one to initiate their kiss.
He released Terry’s hands, allowing the omega to do what he wanted with them. The first thing he did was stick them in Morgan’s hair and grip as tightly as he could.
It hurt, but he liked it. It was a good kind of pain. Despite how much the pain seemed to heighten the pleasure, Terry’s kisses became biting and soon let Morgan know that he should be taking command of the situation a little better than he was.
He thrust against the other man, grinding their cocks together. Terry was not quiet as he voiced his pleasure. He threw his head back and moaned out loud.
Terry’s legs spread and came around Morgan’s hips, locking together at the ankles, and he was thrusting against Morgan’s cock with all the grace of a virgin.
Morgan was torn between whether or not he wanted that to be a reality.
“Fuck me. Want you to claim me,” Terry said, reaching his hand down to stroke his dick.
Morgan couldn’t allow him to get off before he was inside of him, so he quickly grabbed hold of Terry’s hand and thrust it above his head again.
“Not until I say,” Morgan said with a growl.
“Fuck me!” Terry demanded.
He was so impatient. Clearly they couldn’t draw this out as much as Morgan would have preferred, but that was all right. He wanted nothing better than to be inside that tight ass as quickly as possible.
Morgan lifted himself up so that he was on his knees on the bed,
40 Marcy Jacks
and he spat into his hand, bringing his fingers down to Terry’s pucker.
Terry was still thrusting his hips, and this time, when he reached down to grip his dick, Morgan let him. “Yes, fuck me, yes,” he hissed, stroking himself as Morgan pressed his fingers inside that tight hole.
“Be patient,” Morgan said with a grunt as those fingers stroked him. He had no lube on him and didn’t have the presence of mind to go and search for any. Terry was a werewolf, he would be fine without it so long as Morgan didn’t rush too much, and the fact that they were claiming each other would make it easier as well.
Terry continued to kiss and nuzzle his jaw as Morgan fingered him, and as he expected, the other man hardly seemed to notice that there was nothing to ease the way. He was so eager to mate. He was eager to be fucked.
How long had it been since he’d had a lover? It surprised him to realize that he couldn’t pinpoint an exact time, but it had definitely been a while ago, and none of them had made him quite as wanton as Terry did.
It had to be the mate thing. This proved that they were mated.
Morgan couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed the sensation of having his fingers sucked into that warmth so much or feeling this anxious to be inside of it.
Terry was eagerly humping against his fingers now, and his fist as he worked his cock. Oddly, he was no longer staring down at himself or trying to see what Morgan was doing between his legs. Now, he was looking at Morgan’s face.
“I’m yours,” he said, though it almost sounded like a question, as though he were confirming that this was real.
“Yes,” Morgan said, removing his fingers and spitting once more into his hand. “And I’m yours.”
He stroked the saliva over himself, biting his lower lip at the sheer pleasure he felt. His eyes fell shut for a second before he opened them again and noted how pink Terry’s cheeks had become.
His hand still moved up and down over his swollen prick, and his
Mated to the Wild Omega 41
eyes were half-lidded as he watched Morgan pleasure himself.
Morgan smiled at him. There was better in store for him than just watching that.
Morgan grabbed hold of one of Terry’s ankles. “Put your legs up onto my shoulders,” he said.
Terry did as he was told, and the backs of his knees fit so nicely on Morgan’s shoulders.
“Push out when I push in,” he said, and then made one more prayer that what he’d done would be enough. Despite the werewolfstrength thing, even he hadn’t ever done this before without something to help it along.
He took hold of the base of his dick and lined the head up with Terry’s stretched pucker.
He couldn’t remember if Terry had said anything to him after that because the second Morgan started pressing himself inside, that was it. His thinking brain put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door to his mind, and all Morgan was left with was the sheer animal pleasure and the need to ram into his mate with all the force and speed as though it was their last time as well as their first.
Terry’s fingers turned into claws and pulled on the skin of Morgan’s back, but he didn’t care, even when pain raked across his back and warm trails of blood spilled. All he could focus on was that he was balls-deep inside his
