Hard to Handle

by Fel Fern

  Grant kissed each one, his predatory yellow gaze never leaving Max’s face. It was all so intense and Max knew things were only beginning to heat up. Grant had promised he’d never leave Max. They’d never make the same mistakes his parents did.

  “We’re both still wearing pants,” Max said. Taking the initiative, he hopped off Grant’s lap and took off his jeans, then his boxers. Finally, he stood naked in front of his wolf. Grant stood up, did the same.

  Max gasped, seeing Grant’s huge cock. He could already envision Grant putting him on all fours and sinking all that glorious length inside of his tiny asshole. Grant would then claim him in the most intimate way possible. Max wanted to be rutted like an animal.

  “Wow,” was all he could say. Undaunted, he closed in and knelt in front of his wolf.

  Grant looked down at him, expectant look on his face. Max never liked giving blow jobs before, but for his wolf, he’d make an exception. No rules applied when it came to Grant. He pressed a kiss to the tip of Grant’s cock, used his tongue to lick the pre-cum gathering there.

  Grant slid his fingers into his hair, urged Max to lean closer.

  “Blow me,” Grant ordered.

  Max didn’t need to be told twice. He licked Grant from base to top, teasing him. Max was in a playful mood. He wanted to explore, to taste, to hear Grant groaning in pleasure for him.

  Chapter 9

  Glorious. That was the only word Grant could use to describe the sight of his human, kneeling before him and giving him the best blow job in the world. He tightened his grip on Max’s hair, let out a groan when Max played with the sensitive spot under his cock head.

  “Take me in your mouth.”

  It seemed that once in a private setting, Max was receptive to his commands. That pleased his wolf immensely. Max did as he asked. His human hollowed out his cheeks, wasn’t able to take all of his prick on the first try. Max gagged, pulled back.

  “Slowly,” Grant said.

  Max tried again, succeeding this time around. Once the tip of Grant’s dick reached the back of Max’s throat, his human pulled back up for air, only to dive back in. Max’s mouth and tongue on his shaft felt divine. He groaned, knew it wouldn’t be long before he exploded inside Max’s mouth.

  Didn’t matter. Shifters recovered a lot faster than human men.

  “Stay still,” he said. Max didn’t move, kept his mouth open as Grant thrust in and out of him. He let out a growl, mind hazing over as he emptied his load down Max’s waiting throat.

  His human took every drop.

  “Good boy.” He used his fingers to swipe away the droplets of cum that lingered on Max’s chin.

  Grant helped Max to his feet and gave the human a gentle push back to the couch. Max lay on his back, panting, dick already erect and hard for him. Grant straddled Max. He began planting kisses down the side of Max’s neck, chest, belly. He licked, bit, explored. His human didn’t seem to mind that Grant had been leaving little souvenirs all over his body.

  Max groaned when Grant closed his fingers around Max’s shaft. A few strokes had his human gasping, panting. Quite a sight to see Max’s pupils blown, his mouth slightly parted. His human looked well-fucked, even though Grant hadn’t even taken him yet.

  He noticed Max’s gaze lingering on his cock, which had already begun to harden again.

  Max flashed him a mischievous smile. “Put that fat cock inside me.”

  “On the floor. Hands and knees.” Grant wanted the best angle of penetration possible, for Max to feel every inch of his shaft deep inside of him.

  Max scrambled to obey his commands. Grant ran his hand possessively down the length of Max’s back, the curve of Max’s perfect and tight ass. He leaned down, pressed a kiss on Max’s mouth. His human nipped at his lower lip, drawing blood.

  That only riled his inner wolf up. Oh yes. Their mate was a feisty one. Perfect for them.

  “Grant,” Max said, plea in his voice. “Please.”

  Grant positioned himself behind his mate. He gripped Max’s ass cheeks apart and led his prick to Max’s hole. Grant didn’t push in right away. He left smears of his pre-cum around Max’s puckered entrance and his ass cheeks, the way an animal marked its territory.

  “Mine,” he growled out the words. Felt his mate shudder. Max practically pushed his ass at him. Grant drove his cock in, slow and steady. He gritted his teeth, culled the temptation to simply drill Max. Their first time had to be perfect. Max groaned and clutched at the carpet underneath him.

  Once Grant pushed past the stubborn ring of muscles, his passage went easier, smoother. Finally, Grant buried himself all the way in. He rested his balls on the curve of Max’s ass. The inner muscles of Max’s ass clamped down on his cock, drawing a groan from him.

  “Breathe,” he told his mate.

  His mate relaxed for him. Grant began to thrust in and out of Max, fast and faster. Deeper as well. Max moaned for him, the sound music to his ears. With every entry, he felt like he was getting closer to his mate, able to get under Max’s skin, travel right to Max’s heart. Like their souls could touch. Make love the way their physical bodies did.

  His wolf howled inside of him in triumph as he pounded in and out of Max.

  “Yes,” Max cried out. “There.”

  Grant must’ve hit Max’s prostate. He did it again, only for Max to arch his back and let out a whimper. Grant fucked his mate senseless, while the pressure continued to build inside of him. His balls tightened against his body. His cock felt so full, close to bursting.

  The next time he sheathed himself inside Max, Grant pushed his mate to the edge. Max came, screaming out his name. Hearing his mate climax only triggered Grant’s own orgasm. He hammered in and out of Max a few more times. The living room disappeared from his line of sight. His mind flew as he emptied his jizz inside Max’s ass.

  They both collapsed on the floor, completely sated. He brought his human close to him, buried his face into the curve of Max’s neck. He could hear it, Max’s rapid pulse. Grant lengthened his teeth, pressed them close to the fragile spot between Max’s shoulder and neck.

  His wolf pushed him to do it, but he gritted his teeth. No. Max wasn’t ready, not after Max had shared his fears regarding the mating bond and the example of his parents. Grant felt Max’s fingers in his hair, gently tugging his face close to Max’s neck again.

  Grant let out a growl. Right now, both of them were in the high of the moment. Once the post-orgasmic bliss from sex faded and Max woke up the next morning with Grant’s mark on his neck, would his human regret it?

  “Please,” Max murmured.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said, voice barely human.

  “I do. I know I was scared at first, but I’m not anymore. We’ve only known each other for such a short time, but from the moment you entered my life, I can’t picture myself with anyone else.”

  Grant couldn’t either. He nuzzled the side of Max’s neck. If Grant decided to wait for the right moment, then he ought to pull back now. His wolf lay so close to the surface and the beast was all but eager to claim what was rightfully theirs. Their mate and no one else’s.

  “I need someone like you in my life. Someone who believes I can be good.”

  “You are,” Grant said, pressing a kiss to the spot where he’d bite Max. “It’s going to hurt.”

  Max took a deep breath. “I’m ready. All my life I felt lost, unsure of my purpose, but now, I don’t feel that way anymore.”

  When Daniel approached him with a job offer, never in Grant’s wildest imagination had he envisioned finding out that Daniel’s human son was his mate. They might come from different worlds, but in the end, they were halves of the same whole.

  Grant studied his human carefully. No signs of Max bolting or second-guessing this choice. Want, desire, and tenderness were reflected in Max’s eyes. Grant would give Max his all, just for Max to look at him every day like that. With love. Devotion.

  Possessiveness settled d
eep in his bones. Max was born to be his.

  He made his decision. No point waiting. He’d given Max a chance to back out. Max had shown no signs of running away. He unsheathed his teeth again. Without hesitation, Grant sunk his fangs deep. Max cried out against him, gripped his shoulders, but his human didn’t pull away.

  Grant could sense the mating bond flaring up between them. His wolf rising from him, to touch Max’s soul, and bind it to his own. Max gasped and Grant understood why. He also saw the golden threads wrapping around their bodies, fusing their life-forces together.

  “Beautiful,” Max whispered.

  Grant pulled his mouth away, licked the remnants of blood on his lips. “Bite me back.”

  “I don’t know how. What if I screw up?” Max asked, sounding concerned.

  He shook his head. “You won’t. I believe in you.”

  Max flashed a shy smile at him, before leaning closer and leaving a much smaller bite on his left bicep. “Is that good?”

  “Yes, perfect.”

  Max snuggled closer to him. Grant wrapped his arms around his mate, not wanting to let go. He knew it had been reckless, making his move today, but it was an inevitable step in their relationship. They had all the time in the world to get to know each other better.

  As for Max’s father? The Alpha won’t be happy about Grant mating Max so soon, but Daniel would eventually come to accept it. Grant was the new man in Max’s life now, and Daniel would soon learn that he made all the rules now.

  Chapter 10

  Bruiser took a sip of his beer, downed it in a few seconds, and yelled at the bartender for another. The guy gave him a look.

  “Paying customer here,” he said, waving his wallet. He only had a twenty left in there. Not a cent more. Who cared? His life was in the drain.

  The bartender, a burly, werewolf in his late forties with a beer gut, handed him another. “You seem troubled, friend.”

  Friend? Bruiser snorted. Was this guy trying to be funny?

  “If some puny human with a big-shot family and his werewolf bodyguard screwed you over, you’d be depressed, too.”

  Bruiser touched the indentation left by the police cuffs on his wrists and scowled at the beer the bartender slid in front of him. Drinking this early in the morning. His ma would’ve been furious. His dad would’ve been proud. Didn’t matter. Both were dead.

  He would’ve managed to worm his way out of a human police jail easily but no. Bruiser had been classified as dangerous and was taken away by the paranormal police. Thankfully, one of the cops there owed Bruiser a favor, which he collected. His buddy Al slipped in the key to his cell on his lunch tray three days ago, and he escaped the same night.

  Now, he was out. His brief stint in jail only worsened the hunger for vengeance festering inside of him.

  Max Shepard. He’d whispered that stinking rich brat’s name every night in his cell. Screw Max, his rich family, and his bodyguard. That big bastard had tossed Bruiser around like he was some mangy, stray dog. Like he was nothing.

  Bruiser had nothing now. No job. He was about to lose his apartment, and worse, the paranormal police were probably on a lookout for him. Bruiser had the distinctive sensation of being followed all day long. He thought the cops were closing in on him, but here he was. Still drowning his sorrows.

  Bruiser could get a new job any time he wanted, but his reputation? That was one thing he couldn’t get back easily. He reached out to all of his old buddies, thinking they’d lend him some cash, let him crash on their couch a few nights. No one offered. In their eyes, he was weak, bested by a cocky little human.

  “You look familiar.”

  Bruiser growled softly under his breath. Wouldn’t surprise him if his face was featured on the local news. He’d probably injured four cops during his escape. Bruiser knew he should’ve kept his head down, stayed low a couple of days, but he was thirsting for a beer.

  “You were on the news. Broke out of the police station on Fifty-Seventh Street. Killed one cop and injured three on your way out, am I wrong?

  Bruiser finished his second bottle and warily studied the bartender. He took a look around the dirty bar. Peanut shells and empty bottles from the night before littered the joint. No one else there but the two of them. Worse-case scenario? Bruiser could take out the bartender and scram, but the other werewolf hadn’t picked up the phone.

  “So what?” he finally asked. “Don’t see you calling the coppers.”

  The bartender flashed him a mouthful of sharp, dirty, and yellowing teeth. “It’s your lucky day, Bruiser.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “A few of my guys have been following you since you got out.”

  The hairs on the back of his neck rose. “Your guys?”

  Bruiser finally noticed the black ink on the side of the bartender’s neck. The door to the bar opened. He craned his head, alarmed as three men sauntered in, all bearing the same ink as the bartender.

  A pack tattoo, Bruiser realized with sinking feeling. It took him a second to place the name of their particular gang.

  “What does the Deadpaws Pack want with me?” he finally asked the bartender.

  He guessed the guy called the shots. One nod from the bartender and the three other guys took a seat at an empty table. These bastards were bad news. Word from the street was, they were an ambitious, up-and-coming crew. They kept taking territories from other gangs and shifter groups in the slums. They left no one alive.

  “We have a shared interest.”

  This must be Darby, the pack’s Alpha. A moment ago, Bruiser sensed nothing from the shifter, didn’t feel threatened one bit, but now? He felt a lot more sober, and he could sense the powerful waves of aggressive energy coming from him. Did Darby purposely conceal who he was so Bruiser would let his guard down?

  He rubbed his sweaty hands together. It took Bruiser a couple of seconds to process Darby’s words.

  “You want Max Shepard dead, too?”

  “No, his father. Daniel Shepard’s Alpha to the biggest werewolf pack in the city. Worse, the fucker’s loaded, and every other shifter group’s terrified of crossing him. He has one weakness.”

  “His human son,” Bruiser answered.

  “Bingo. If I were him, I’d strangle a weak son like that.”

  “Maybe he’s the sentimental sort. Anyway, what does this have to do with me? Your group’s what? Nearly thirty, forty strong now?”

  Darby narrowed his eyes. “You’re well informed.”

  “I have friends, a network to keep me informed about what’s going on in the city.” Used to have were the right words, but Bruiser didn’t need Darby to know that.

  “My boys tell me all your friends turned you away.”

  Heat crept up Bruiser’s face and neck. Sweat coated his back. His wolf felt caged, sensed nothing but danger from Darby and his wolves. He stopped by two of his pals’ apartment earlier. Bruiser swore he’d been careful. Even wore a disguise and everything. One cop car passed him by the street, and they didn’t even flag him down.

  Had Darby’s wolves been following him since then? Scary thought, because he hadn’t even seen them although he had the distinct feeling he was being watched. If Darby had such talented trackers working under him, then he was dead. Escape would mean nothing if Darby’s wolves could easily find him.

  “And you’re offering to be my friend?” he asked.

  He flinched when Darby laughed right into his face, spit flying everywhere. “No. You’re going to do something for us, and in return, we’ll do something for you.”

  “I don’t have a choice either way, don’t I?”

  “No one says no to the Deadpaws,” Darby said simply. “So, you want to hear my offer or not?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Bruiser knew this was no partnership. Darby’s eyes reflected insanity. This Alpha would get rid of him after Bruiser had outlived his purpose, he was sure of that. Men like Darby didn’t take any chances. Still, it was tempting to find out how Bruiser could deal
with Max Shepard and that monstrous bodyguard of his.

  “Over the past three days, Daniel Shepard’s son hasn’t been seen in his usual hang-out places. The human’s a social butterfly, so the paparazzi’s speculating he’s out of the country.”

  “He’s not?” he asked.

  “Nope, just hiding from under our noses. We’ve been sending Daniel plenty of death threats lately, just to see how he’d react. Neo and Rocco over there—” Darby nodded to the two large, black-haired werewolves smoking at the nearby table. “—my best trackers, found out Max Shepard’s holed up in his old apartment, just him and that bodyguard of his.”

  Bruiser couldn’t help but shudder. The image of that other werewolf putting his hands around his throat, nearly choking him to death, rose up in his head. No way a guy that size could move so fast and deadly.

  “He shouldn’t be underestimated,” he said. “He’s a pro, that’s for sure. I come up against him again and I’m dead.”

  “Oh, we don’t need you to fight anyone. We know you’re a coward.”

  Bruiser stiffened. Exactly the same words his so-called friends used when he asked them for help. If they all faced that monster, they’d eat their words. So would Darby.

  “What then?”

  “You’ll be the bait. Lure Max Shepard and his bodyguard out to a location we specified, then we’ll take care of them. That’s all.”

  “What will I get in return?”

  “A way out of this city, and how does thirty grand sound?”

  The prospect of money made Bruiser pause. He could do this job for Darby and his crazy wolves, then take the money and run before Darby’s trackers could find him. Darby would’ve also taken care of Max Shepard and his bodyguard by then. Bruiser would just have to be extra careful of Darby, outsmart the Alpha.

  A win-win situation.

  “Perfect. So when are we doing this?”

  Chapter 11

  Grant hovered outside Gill’s hospital room and took a deep breath. He’d been a little worried about leaving Max in the apartment the entire morning. Then again, Max was in good hands, watched like a hawk by two of Daniel’s best. Still, he remembered the miserable look Max had flashed him.