by Anya Byrne
Owen sighed heavily. "At this point, I'm thankful he's not a vampire who sparkles in the sunlight. I draw the line at that."
V burst into laughter and nodded approvingly. "Good answer. I knew I could count on you, Owen. You're going to make a great father to Luther's babies."
Owen stared at his former employer. "Wait, what?"
****
Luther was tired. He'd slept poorly, as usual, and he still wasn't one hundred percent used to the change in sleep patterns he'd forced on himself. Still, when V asked him to drop by the club, he couldn't refuse. It would be painful to see the place again, but it was the closest he could get to Owen without actually breaking his promise.
He rubbed his chest absently as he headed up the stairs to one of the VIP rooms. He did wonder why V hadn't asked him to meet her in her office, but he knew she was worried about him. Perhaps she meant to provide some sort of relaxation for him today. It wouldn't work, but he appreciated the effort just the same.
He'd expected anything except seeing his mate waiting for him in the room. He froze, but somehow, stumbled inside nonetheless. The door closed behind him, and Luther spared a moment to curse V's meddling ways before he directed his attention to the beautiful human.
"Owen. What are you doing here?"
"I thought we didn't really finish our conversation, or our date," Owen replied. "And it occurred to me that, despite all the letters you sent me, I never really danced just for you."
Luther's mouth went dry. He tried to find an answer, but the images Owen conjured short-circuited his brain. Owen smiled at him and walked to his side. He grabbed Luther's hand and guided him to the couch. "Sit."
Luther stared at their entwined fingers in complete disbelief. He had not thought Owen would want to touch him again, especially not after his awful reaction to Owen's attempt to leave. But there was no fear in the human's eyes, no apprehension, just decision and certainty. He shoved Luther down, and Luther went along with it, because he couldn't do anything different.
He'd thought he'd lost his mate for good. Seeing him again birthed the hope that maybe, just maybe, that wasn't the case, and it almost hurt to wish for that.
Owen picked up a remote and turned on the music system. As a soft melody filled the room, Luther couldn't help but ask, "What are you doing, Owen?"
"Like I said, dancing."
"I don't want the Incubus," Luther tried one last time. "I want you."
Owen smiled. "I'm not wearing the mask, am I?" He brushed soft fingers over Luther's jaw. "We're so bad at this communication thing, Luther. The letters have worked for you in the past, as has my dancing. I figure, maybe we could try again."
With that, Owen started to sway to the music, his slender fingers now tracing the elegant curve of his neck. Luther's cock went rock hard as he watched, too easily imagining his own hand on Owen's body, his fangs buried in the soft flesh.
Owen's graceful motions wove a spell around Luther, until he forgot why he'd been so reticent to begin with. The VIP room wasn't designed as the stage, with the pole Owen used for his more complicated moves, but it didn't matter. Owen bent and twisted, marking each tone of the song with a twist of his hips or a pirouette in just the right place. Slowly, seductively, Owen slid his shirt off, exposing the expanse of his naked chest. Luther's gaze was drawn to his pert nipples, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and suck them in his mouth. Instead, he dug his fingers in the leather of the couch, watching as Owen tweaked the tiny nubs himself. Luther's cock throbbed painfully with every motion of those fingers, and it only got worse when his mate licked his lips and let his gaze roam over Luther's body. He knelt on the carpet and prowled toward him, looking for all the world like he planned to devour Luther whole. For once, Luther felt like he was the prey to Owen's predator, completely hypnotized by the expression on Owen's face.
And then, Owen got up and climbed into Luther's lap. The dancers at the club—including the Incubus—never touched the patrons, but this was different. Owen wanted this just as much as Luther did.
His eyes fixed on Luther just like they always had when he'd danced on stage, but he was closer, so much closer. Luther could scent his need, his arousal, and he wondered how in the world he'd managed to miss his mate's presence when he'd been coming up the stairs. V's doing, undoubtedly.
His instincts to claim and own took over when Owen ground his ass over Luther's dick. Owen's erection rubbed against Luther's abdomen, and as much as he enjoyed Owen's dance, Luther couldn't take it any longer. He gripped the human's hips and rolled them both on the couch, until he was on top of Owen, his mate on his back underneath him.
Owen didn't seem to mind the change in position. He wrapped his legs around Luther's waist and his arms around his neck, his heart hammering and his breath coming out in pants. His eyes drifted closed, and Luther took that as the unspoken invitation it was.
A rush of possessive pleasure exploded over him when their lips met. Owen eagerly granted him entrance, and Luther thrust his tongue into his mate's mouth, reveling in the taste of his beautiful human's desire and submission. He devoured Owen, tasting, exploring, so greedy for his mate that even oxygen didn't matter anymore.
Something nudged at the corner of his mind, though, reminding him that if he took things further, he'd be unable to stop. He forced himself to break the kiss and shot his mate a serious look. "Tell me if you don't want this. Tell me now, because I won't be able to control myself."
Owen fixed him with a determined gaze. "I finally have that answer, Luther," he replied, his voice somehow both decisive and breathless. "I'm not afraid, not anymore."
Luther hesitated. He hadn't gotten the chance to explain everything to Owen, including what a mating would entail. Owen almost seemed to guess his thoughts. "V told me." He smiled sheepishly. "And okay, some of it is weird, especially the male pregnancy thing. I didn't expect that. But... Well, maybe we can get used to it together. Maybe you can teach me."
The frayed edges of Luther's control snapped. He dove in and took Owen's lips once more, and this time, he didn't pull away. Owen's acceptance was like a drug, and it went to Luther's head, shattering every wall he'd painstakingly built throughout the past month.
How had he ever thought he could abandon this? Every minute he'd spent away from Owen had hurt, and now, he was so hungry, craved Owen like a starving man did a feast. Owen welcomed him, giving as good as he got. Their tongues dueled, and between muffled moans and groans, Luther completely let go.
Owen choked and bit on Luther's lower lip as he felt Luther's power flow over his body. Luther separated their mouths simply because he wanted to hear more of those noises and see Owen's face when he made the human come undone.
Astral projection was dangerous, and he'd always held a tight rein over it. Frustratingly, it only escaped his control when Owen was involved in one way or another, which was why Luther had tried to sleep during the day throughout the past month, so that he wouldn't accidentally invade Owen's dreams again. But now, he didn't have to hold back anymore. He could give his mate everything the beautiful human deserved, everything both of them had craved, but had been too afraid to embrace.
He didn't even have to actively control his power. It followed his natural desire to touch Owen everywhere, to claim and caress each and every inch of his mate. Owen had only taken his shirt off, but that was no barrier for Luther. He used his power to zero in on the parts of Owen that were still clothed—specifically his nether regions. While Luther's flesh-and-blood hands focused on Owen's nipples—the damn things had taunted him too much for him to resist—he slid ghostly fingers into Owen's ass and curled others around his mate's cock.
Owen's reaction didn't disappoint. He made a sound like he was dying. "Oh, God. What.... Luther... What..."
"Hush, my Owen," Luther whispered in his mate's ear. "Let me take care of you."
Owen was obviously confused, taken aback by the feeling of too many hands on him. However, Luther's comforting words seeme
d to help, and he took a few deep breaths in an obvious attempt to search for some sort of calm. Luther used the moment to tweak Owen's nipples, while curling his ghostly fingers inside Owen's body and pinpointing his mate's prostate with ruthless accuracy. Just because he could, he also increased the speed of his massage on Owen's dick.
Owen flailed and dug his fingers in Luther's shoulders. "U-Unfair. Can't... Can't breathe..."
"Do you want me to stop?" Luther asked. He meant it too. He wouldn't force his mate into something that was too much for him. Even if this came naturally to Luther, it could easily overwhelm an unprepared human.
"Don't you dare," Owen snapped at Luther, surprising him. "More. Give me more."
Luther didn't think he'd ever been so aroused in his life. He crawled down Owen's body and took one tender bud in his mouth while he reached for Owen's jeans with his flesh-and-blood hands. Even as he lowered Owen's zipper, he continued his intimate caresses, rubbing Owen's prostate and his testes.
By the time Luther had taken off Owen's shoes and jeans, the human was already on the brink of climax. Luther mentally put pressure on the base of Owen's dick, preventing his mate's orgasm. "Not just yet, my beautiful rose. I want to be inside you first."
"Yes," Owen practically hissed. "Come on, please. Now."
Each syllable was punctuated by a moan. In truth, the words were barely coherent, and Luther might have had trouble understanding them if he wasn't so perfectly in tune with his mate's body language. This was clearly more than Owen had ever experienced or even expected, but the human didn't shy away, didn't falter. Everything about his demeanor practically screamed for more, and Luther planned to give him exactly that.
****
Owen knew he was in over his head. He'd known from the very first moment V had told him he and Luther would most likely have a child, one Owen would have to carry. Owen's reaction to that hadn't been very intelligent, or his proudest moment.
But even the embarrassing squeak he'd managed to give V far surpassed anything he could have uttered now. Just when he'd thought he might be at least halfway ready for anything Luther could throw at him, the man went ahead and somehow finger-fucked him using only his... His what? His mind? His magic? Owen didn't have a clue how it worked, and right then and there, he didn't particularly care. He was too busy burning up, needing to be fucked and claimed and touched all over.
When his mate flipped him on all fours, Owen experienced a momentary pang of loss. He wanted to see Luther's face, to lose himself in those surreal, dark eyes that made him forget his doubts and his confusion. The sensation didn't last. Hot lips landed in the small of his back as hands spread his ass cheeks, exposing his hole to Luther's gaze.
"Beautiful," Luther murmured behind him, "so beautiful."
Owen whimpered when a thumb rubbed against his nether opening, massaging his entrance. It threw him terribly, because the ethereal fingers hadn't once stopped their ministrations on him. His brain and his body had trouble processing exactly what was happening, the cognitive dissonance making him dizzy and paradoxically, more aroused than ever.
Despite his confusion, he could tell that the tongue that next swept over his crease belonged to the real Luther, not his astral self. Every inch of him flared to life as Luther wiggled the slick muscle inside him. It was completely surreal, sensation adding on top of sensation, making his mind and body explode with bliss. Still, Luther didn't let him come, and in all honesty, Owen couldn't bring himself to regret it. He wanted more, needed everything Luther could give him.
He found himself pushing back against Luther, trying to fuck himself on his new lover's face while clawing at the couch. He was distantly aware of the whimpering noises escaping him, and maybe he should have been embarrassed, but the hell with it. Owen dared anyone who'd ever had someone like Luther touch them to maintain even the slightest bit of composure.
He was beyond shocked when, all of a sudden, the addicting sensations vanished. Releasing a choked sob, he begged, "Luther... Please..."
He half expected Luther to ask him exactly what he needed, but the question never came. Instead, Luther gripped his hips in an iron like vise and pressed the head of his dick to Owen's hole.
Owen waited for the burn of the penetration to come, but it didn't happen, not yet. Instead, another cock nudged his lips. What little part of Owen remained rational screamed "what the hell?" but the rest of him gave it the finger. Luther didn't press, didn't force him into accepting what he offered. While Owen appreciated that, he truly wasn't afraid anymore. He parted his lips and embraced the sensations.
On cue, Luther pushed, and Owen groaned as the two dicks pierced his willing body. The flavor of his mate's precum exploded on his taste buds, and it was as glorious as he'd expected. Was it weird that he could taste it despite it being solely a projection of Luther's astral self? Maybe. Owen didn't care. Luther was far more than he'd originally realized. He was also the wolf and the magic, and Owen couldn't help but love that too.
All the while, Luther's more than generous girth stretched him to an almost impossible extent. It should have hurt given that Luther hadn't used any lubricant beyond the saliva. But Luther was gentle, and by now, Owen was flying high, drugged by the pleasure Luther had given him. The burn of Luther's entry just added to it, to the delicious cocktail of sensations, and he moaned around the dick in his mouth, wordlessly begging for more.
He had no idea how Luther's astral projection thing worked, but obviously, his lover experienced the echo of what Owen was doing. Luther's breath hitched, and a pang of satisfaction and decisiveness rose inside Owen. The man might have awoken nerve endings Owen hadn't even known existed, but Owen wasn't helpless either.
With that in mind, Owen tightened his ass muscles around Luther's dick while earnestly sucking on the cock in his mouth. It worked beautifully. Luther snarled, his hold on Owen's hips tightening. In one hard thrust, he buried himself inside Owen, impaling him with a violence that should have hurt, but didn't.
From that point on, it all became a challenge, a battle of lust and a dance of desire. Both of them tried to get the other to come first, but it wasn't even about competitiveness. Owen couldn't even pinpoint one single exact reason behind his actions. He just knew that he needed this, needed Luther to come inside him. But it was hard to hold on when Luther's each thrust drove him into prostate heaven, making explosions burst into his vision. The second shaft moved just as mercilessly, fucking his mouth, and Owen had never felt more complete before, utterly owned by his lover and happier than ever before.
In that moment, it occurred to Owen that Luther wasn't just his lover. He was Owen's mate. That realization opened his eyes to what he needed to do, and he tilted his head, offering himself to Luther.
It could have been more graceful and less awkward, what with the cock in his mouth and all. Still, not everything in life and in love was perfect, and in the end, it worked. Luther buried himself inside Owen one last time and then piercing pleasure-pain exploded over Owen as his mate bit down on the juncture of his throat.
That definitely hurt like hell, but it also felt beyond amazing. Owen's body couldn't quite decide between the two and it settled somewhere in the middle, propelling him into an orgasm so intense it bordered on agonizing. He couldn't have hoped to understand it, let alone describe it. He just felt, and in that moment, he truly knew what it was like to be one with another person.
He'd always dreamed of his own romance and had hoped to find his other half, but a part of him had remained practical. There was no such thing as a perfect match, a perfect connection. He'd been so wrong. He literally felt the moment when an unbreakable bond tightened between them, and it was just that, perfect, flawless, everything Owen had craved whenever he scented the roses his then-nameless admirer had sent.
A pulse of pleasure shot through him, both his own and not—an echo of Luther's orgasm. Emotions, sensations and memories jumbled inside him, all coalescing into a crystalline image of who Luther really was
. He saw the reasons for Luther's fears—Luther's past of blood and pain—but also his renewed decision and everything he'd done in an attempt to keep Owen safe. Owen wondered how he'd ever doubted this man, how he'd ever been afraid of what was so clearly building between them. It was written in their hearts, in their memories, a love letter from an Alpha to a human who'd dared to accept the strangeness of his world.
Luther's voice sounded in Owen's mind, making him even more aware of the beautiful closeness they now shared. "Owen, my mate."
As Luther spoke, his astral self seemed to slide into Owen, and suddenly, he could see things as Luther did, feel them in a million different ways he hadn't deemed possible. He could see himself through Luther's eyes, but also sense the wolf beneath the surface of Luther's human demeanor.
This time, when they met in the realm of their shared consciousness, he didn't pull away. He allowed himself to admire the wolf with Luther's eyes and knelt next to the great beast. Brown, just like Owen's favorite color and in more shades than Owen had thought existed. It would have been funny if it didn't make so much sense.
As he embraced the wolf's head and buried his face in the luxurious fur, Owen whispered, "Yours."
He didn't know how long they stayed like that, but all too soon, he found himself drifting away. When he opened his eyes, the wolf was gone, and he was back on the couch, with his mate draped over him. At one point, Luther's astral presence had disappeared. However, Luther's dick was still inside Owen, and somehow, his cock head seemed larger.
Luther moved just so, and the head of his prick rubbed over Owen's prostate. Despite the mind melting orgasm he'd just had, Owen found his own member making a valiant effort to rise to the occasion.
"Sorry," Luther murmured in his ear. "Knotting is a werewolf thing. Happens to us when we make love to our mates, presumably to encourage reproduction. I can't pull away."
There were many things Owen could have said to that. The "encouraging reproduction" thing was a topic he and Luther had not addressed properly, and Owen had to admit that, now that he'd seen into Luther's mind, he realized he might not have given it as much thought as he should have.
