Nipping his neck, Seamus nodded. "No doubt. A far cry from the days that they used his tail as a chew toy."
He arched, rubbing into his mate. "Uhn... speaking of chew toys... Did we get enough? I'm not letting the puppies chew your tail."
"God, cub. You're so damned hot." They moved together, Seamus pressing him back against the counter. "I think so? Hell, I dunno."
"We'll worry about it later." He took another kiss, nostrils flaring at the need in the air. "We've only got so long before they all wake up."
"We should take advantage of it, yeah?" That growl got to him every time, made him shiver, and Seamus' big hands cupped his ass, lifting him.
"Yes, love. Need you." He wrapped around his mate, scenting the fading hints of Bruiser, the new puppies' smells, the desire, the basic core scent of them, mixed altogether.
His butt hit the counter and Seamus tore at his clothes, his shirt coming off easily, his jeans not so easy.
Seamus' shirt came apart under his fingers, his mouth finding the curve of Seamus' shoulder, marking his mark.
"Yeah, cub. Yours." Seamus knew. He always knew. Keith got a matching mark on his chest and Seamus leaned forward and set teeth and tongue to it. Finally they were both naked, and Seamus bent even deeper, lifting and spreading him so that Seamus' tongue could find his center.
"Love!" His cry was pure need, echoing through the kitchen, nails scrabbling on the counter.
"Mmm." Pushing deep, Seamus prepared him, tongue pushing into him, licking, fucking him hard.
His hips pushed and rocked, body begging for each sensation, each touch.
"Gonna fuck you now, cub. Need you." His mate stood, strong arms lifting him and pulling him down, hot cock nudging his wet, open hole.
"Yes!" He tangled his fingers in Seamus' hair, riding Seamus' need like a wave. "Yours, love. Need."
"Mine. Mate." Inside him. Seamus was inside, pushing deep, spreading him wide.
Familiar. Necessary. Right. Good. His. Mate. Love. He whimpered and whined, his heart offered to Seamus with words and true smells.
They rutted hard, his back and butt bruising against the counter behind him, Seamus thrusting into him over and over, claiming him with growls and bites.
He arched, offering belly and throat, heart and soul, everything. His voice filled the room, yipping and happy, harmonizing with Seamus' growls.
"Yeah, cub. Yeah." Seamus held him up with one hand, muscles bulging, and reached for his cock with the other, pumping him hard.
He watched the pleasure in those glowing eyes, knew his own were shining for his mate as he came, howling low.
One thrust, two, and Seamus filled him with heat, growling loud enough to wake the pups, panting and sweating against him.
"Love you, cub. Love you."
Keith nuzzled in, lapping at the dark mark on Seamus' throat. He heard the soft whining and yipping of the puppies and grinned, shaking his head. "You woke them up."
"We'd better get cooking, then." They laughed together, Seamus nuzzling his mark as well, spending the last moment they had before the pups descended snuggling. "I'm proud of you, cub. You're pack, good and solid."
"I'm yours, love." He licked Seamus' chin, Seamus' temple. "Mate."
"Yeah."
Time to get back to the business of raising pups. And their last batch would be there soon, ready for their next lesson. That was what it was all about. He and Seamus. Pack mates.
He grinned and Seamus let him down so he could start the stew. Their pack was hungry.
End.
~About the Contributors~
B. Cameron
B. Cameron scribbles...er resides in San Jose, CA. She'd spend more time scribbling if she didn't work for a large conglomerate corporation with a love for too many acronyms. She considers her life to beÝa work in progress andÝall artistic endeavors are an extension of that philosophy.
Chalcedony Cross
Chalcedony Cross - who is still a bit bemused at having her first, original, published work turning out to be *photographs* rather than the fiction she prefers to obsess on >^~.o^< - currently resides in Nashville, Tennessee, along with a husband, four cats, and a grip on reality that is tenuous at best. Need more? Check "The Crossroads," at http://www.squidge.org/~chal.
K. Fuhr
K. Fuhr pretends to be an artist sometimes, when she needs a break from being a nerd. She finds certain chemical reactions rather erotic, as well as the way a virus viciously thrusts its genetic material into a wanton cell. In retrospect, she wishes she hadn't included the former sentence. Pretend you didn't read it.
Rob Knight
Rob Knight, animal lover and avid reader of erotic fiction, was thrilled to be able to gather the stories in the Shifting anthology together in one book. Rob enjoys travel, pets, and bad B movies, and hopes to edit more anthologies for Torquere Press in the future.
Tammy Lee
Tammy was once a beautiful princess until one day she was kissed by a sexy prince! Now she lives as a humble frog, drawing smut with her froggy fingers. Sometimes her tongue gets in the way, so she ties it back. laleeloo.com is her pond.
Sean Michael
Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his vast gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. Shifting is his fourth published work.
Julia Talbot
Julia Talbot resides in the Southwest of the United States with her dog and several houseplants, and has not quit her day job. She has a penchant for blank books, gay porn, and big, ugly hats. She can most often be found in coffee shops and restaurants, scribbling in her notebook and entertaining other diners with her mutterings.
Julia cut her reading and writing teeth on purple-prosed romance novels, and as a result decided that boys were much more interesting with boys. Intense study of her subject and as much firsthand research as possible figure heavily in her writing adventures. Historical and fantasy settings are Julia's favorites. Shifting is her third published work.
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