by BA Tortuga
He squeezed Jacks’s prick, grinning down as Jacks howled with it. Oh yeah. Just that. He chuffed, squeezing again.
“Baby! Jesus. Love….” Hips rolling up, hands hard on him, Jacks fucked him like there was no tomorrow. Like he was the whole world.
He leaned back, hands landing on Jackson’s thighs, that heavy prick pressing deeper.
Growling, Jacks humped up, holding him right there, that sweet cock swelling inside him, making him whimper. Yeah. Yeah, he so needed more of that.
“There. There. Don’t stop.” His cock slapped against his belly, hot drops slipping down his shaft.
“Fuck no, baby. Not going to stop. Been missing you at night….” Yeah. Yeah, his stubborn Jacks would miss him and still sleep alone.
“Come back.” It was part demand, part plea.
“I will. Stupid… I’m a stupid fuck, baby.” The words came out as pants, Jacks’s cheeks flushed bright red, sweat running on the man’s chest and neck. “Need to be with you.”
“Mine. Oh fuck. My cock. Love. Touch me.” His motherfucking head was going to pop off.
Jacks did just what he asked, reaching down and pulling at his prick, making a fist around him. His spine tried to bend back on itself and his mouth dropped open on a moan and that was gonna be all she wrote.
He shot so hard the room went white, his teeth coming together with a click as his ass clenched tight.
Jacks roared for him, cock throbbing deep inside him as his mate spent for him, hands almost becoming claws. He could see Jacks’s face waver, the wolf trying to come out, it was that powerful.
Houston slumped forward, licking Jacks’s lips, the pointed chin, the jaw.
“Mmm.” Low, growly, the noise told him everything Jacks hadn’t said the last few days. Love you. Pack. Mine.
He nodded in response, humming low. Better.
Much better.
THE SOUND started low. It was just a whine, a tiny noise that woke him, had him listening to see if there was a wounded coyote out there somewhere.
Then it started to get louder, and Houston began thrashing next to him, clawing at the air. It made the fucking hair on the back of his neck stand up, had him up on all fours ready to fight off whatever was attacking. Without even thinking.
Shit.
It was a fucking dream. He couldn’t fight anything. But he could wake Houston up.
“Baby. Baby, wake up.”
Those pretty eyes popped open, rolling like dice before they settled.
“I got you. I got you, baby. It’s okay.” He rubbed Houston’s shoulders, soft and slow.
“Oh. Oh shit. I….” Houston panted, tongue lolling.
“Quite a dream, huh? Come on, baby. Shake it off.” God, he hated the fear in those eyes. Hated the people who’d put it there.
“Yeah. Sorry.” Houston slid out of the bed, padding toward the bathroom.
Sighing, Jacks eased onto his back, scratching his chest. Waiting. They needed to talk. They really did.
His mate came back, wet-haired and calmer, beer dangling from the long fingers. “You’re still awake?”
“Uh-huh. Been waiting on you, man.” He rolled to his side, propping up on one elbow. “You ready to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” The bed dipped, Houston sitting close. “What I dreamed?”
“That too. You never have told me about the soldiers, really.” He needed to know. How in hell could he defend his mate from what he didn’t understand?
“I…. We had a little house at the beach—it was a little pack: six females and three other males. They came with helicopters.”
Houston drank half the beer down, long throat working.
Jacks resisted the urge to stroke and pet and distract with loving. He needed to know. “Helicopters….”
“Yes. Helicopters. We were asleep, just after the moon. So tired. They had tear gas and shit. They rounded us up in a lab on the coast. There were two other packs. I was there… a long time.”
“How long, baby?” He reached right out, hands landing on Houston’s skin. He couldn’t not touch.
“I was only gone from you four moons before they got me.”
Jesus. Jesus. That was… that was too fucking long to be scared every day. Too long to worry about them taking your fucking balls. “Fuck, baby. No wonder you were so messed up.”
“I don’t… I don’t remember much of parts. There were shots and shocks and…. They have bitches, Jackson. They’re breeding bitches.” Houston was losing it, shoulders hunching, teeth baring.
Crawling over, he took Houston’s cheeks in his hands, staring right into those eyes. “You’re not there now. You’re not. You won’t be.”
Though the temptation to gather a force and go to this lab and wipe it out was strong.
“What if they come back, mate? What if they find me and take you, take your balls?”
“If they come, we’ll kill them. This is our land.” There were other wolves out there. Coyote spirits too. They had friends Houston didn’t even know about. “We’ll be safe.”
“I called for you. I knew you couldn’t hear, but I couldn’t stop.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come.” He rested his forehead against Houston’s. “Some nights I thought I heard you howling for me….”
“I should have stayed. I was so stupid, mate.”
“You were young.” Young and wanting to alpha his own pack and needing a life that wasn’t scrub brush and rabbits. It happened to the best of them. Jacks just wouldn’t be out-big-bad-wolfed, and Houston had paid for it.
“I was. I broke free. I came home.”
“Home. I love you, baby.” There would be more talks. He needed to know what tests they’d done, why they bred the females, and to who, if they were cutting off the males’ balls. But that could wait.
“I know.” Houston put the beer aside, pushing into his arms. “I know.”
“Good.” Hops and yeast and warm wolf. That was what Houston tasted like. It was a fine thing. A fine, fine thing, having Houston home with him. His.
They tumbled onto their sides, twined around each other. He could see himself in Houston’s eyes. He could see need there too. Houston wanted him to wipe out the dreams, make him think of something better. Something fine.
Something true.
All that other, it was lies. Their little pack, their land—that was truth.
He pulled Houston right up to him, lips pressing against his mate’s, opening that hot mouth up for his tongue. He needed too. He traced his fingers along the scars on Houston’s side, the raised ridges making him hard, making him growl.
“Mine, baby. All mine. God, I love you.” He was just…. God, he was so fucked where Houston was concerned.
“Love you.” Houston arched up into him, stretching and offering him all of that fine, fine skin.
Licking and nibbling, Jacks explored, making happy noises of his own. Yeah. Oh yeah, look at his marks right there.
Houston made the best sounds—low and happy chuffing noises that settled right in his balls.
Mmm. Balls. Yeah. Jacks licked some more, lips sliding down Houston’s chest and sides. So sweet. Hot. Salty.
Houston’s muscles jerked and shivered under his lips, under his tongue.
“What do you want, baby?” Jacks needed Houston to ask sometimes. Had to hear it out loud.
“You. Your mouth. Your cock. I’m yours, mate. Want you.”
“Oh, good.” His mouth this time, he thought. Kissing his way all the way down, he nuzzled each of Houston’s thighs, warming the man up.
“Good. Jacks.” Look at that pretty man spread, eager and unafraid, needing him like no one else ever had.
His chin nuzzled those sweet balls, and then Jacks moved up to lick at Houston’s cock. God, he loved that taste. Wet-tipped and dark, that prick throbbed, begging for his lips, his tongue, and when he touched the tip of his tongue to Houston’s slit, his mate howled for him.
Oh, he needed more of that s
ound. Needed it desperately. Jacks went looking for more taste, more sound. He pushed his tongue against Houston’s cock again, then closed his lips around and sucked.
His mate went wild for him, fucking his lips, calling out for him, announcing them to the world.
That was the most perfect fucking sound in the world. Jacks sucked harder, deeper, reveling in it. His tongue rubbed on every stroke, so sensitive, feeling every beat of Houston’s heart.
He could taste it as Houston got closer, could see it—those long hands opening and closing on the sheets, over and over.
Fucking hot. Necessary. All his.
All he could do was make encouraging noises, his hands closing on Houston’s thighs, his fingers opening and closing.
“Jacks!” Houston rolled up, curling around his head, seed pulsing out on his tongue.
Drinking it all down, Jacks licked his lips before kissing the tip of Houston’s cock. “Good, baby.”
“Uh-huh.” Houston’s head was rolling, the look on his mate’s face dazed.
He laid his head on Houston’s belly, panting a little, a bit dazed himself. Fucking A.
“You. What do you need?” Houston petted him, fingers stroking his hair.
“I just needed to be with you. Make the dreams go away.” Fuck, he was still hard, shaking with it.
“Take me. I’m yours.” Houston turned, ass canted, presented like a gift, just for him.
He all but choked on his own drool, moving into place so fast he figured he’d have rug burn on his knees. Jacks got two fingers wet, pressing them right up against Houston’s hole.
Houston pushed right back, opening for him easily, taking him down to his hand. “Yes. Yours.”
“Oh God. Love. Baby….” He moved his fingers in and out for maybe ten seconds. That was all he could stand. Then Jacks was pulling those out and shoving his cock in.
Fuck. Fuck, those muscles rippled around him, making him jerk, push deeper, just to feel more. To know more.
He reached around, put one hand low on Houston’s belly, and pulled up to get the man closer, get a better angle. Then he buried his face against the nape of Houston’s neck, scenting him.
Houston bent his head, offering that nape without hesitation.
Biting down gave him a happy the size of at least Mexico, maybe Central America too. Jacks howled against Houston’s skin, his hips starting to pump.
“Jackson. Mate.” The words were bare growls, Houston meeting each thrust, riding his cock.
“Yes. Mine.” Lord, how many times had he said that in the last weeks? But he meant it with everything in him.
“Yours.” He said it because Houston needed to hear it. Because he needed to say it.
It went both ways. They needed each other. They made each other stronger. Jacks moved faster and faster, his skin too fucking tight and hot.
His mate bore down, squeezing him tight enough he gasped. They rocked together, his hips smacking Houston’s ass, his breath coming in great pants. He just couldn’t stop. Just kept going.
He could feel Houston meet each thrust, body clinging to his cock on each pull.
Reaching down, he grabbed Houston’s cock, pulling at it in time with their movements. Hot. Wet at the tip. So ready for him.
“Yours. Yours. Fuck, Jacks. Soon.”
“Now, baby. Right now.” Jacks couldn’t hold back anymore, and he wanted to feel Houston around him when he came.
“Now.” Heat spread over his fingers; muscles squeezed his cock.
“Now,” he agreed, pushing his cock in one last time before he shot. Jacks came hard, his eyes rolling with it.
Houston slumped down to the mattress, panting, just loose and melted under him.
The back of that neck was irresistible, and Jacks bent to it, licking at the mark he’d made when he bit.
Oh, listen to that rumble, that deep, rough, happy sound.
“We’re good together, baby. No matter what. Remember that whenever the night gets to you.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Houston was almost asleep again, almost worn out.
That suited him just fine. His mate needed to sleep. To rest. So badly. Jacks nuzzled in, loving on Houston a little, humming to help put the man out.
Long fingers twined with his, his mate relaxing fully. Trusting him, his strength.
He would guard Houston’s dreams. Keep his mate safe.
That was his new fucking obsession.
THERE WAS a strange truck.
There was.
It had passed by three days in a row and stopped, a different person inside each time, staring.
Houston watched and watched, then went to Jackson, vibrating, whimpering with his fury, his sorrow. “I have to go. They’ve found me. I’ll head south.”
He didn’t want to go.
He wasn’t ready.
“No.” Jacks didn’t even hesitate, didn’t even blink in surprise. “No, if there’s someone out there, we’ll face them together. Kill them.”
Houston stopped, stared at Jacks as if his mate had lost all sense. “What?”
“We can’t run forever. If they’re as determined as you say, they won’t stop coming.” Those gray-ringed eyes met his, serious as a heart attack and twice as strong.
“They won’t.” He searched Jackson’s eyes, that look settling him. “They’ll try to take us both.”
“We’re not going to let them.” Jacks grinned a little, lips pulling back over his teeth in a wolf smile. “I’m not afraid of dying with you, baby.”
“No. No, I’m not afraid of that.” He was afraid that they would take Jackson, hurt his mate. Dying was inevitable.
“Well, there you go. We’ll fight them to the death, baby. No more running.” Those rough hands closed on his shoulders, firm and bracing.
“You won’t let them take me.” Never caged again. Never.
“I won’t. And you won’t let them take me. This is why we’re mates. This is what you were missing in your little pack before.” There wasn’t a bit of jealousy in it, or anger. Just certainty. Jacks just seemed fucking sure that they were invincible as long as they were together.
He nodded. “We were living a lie. I needed to be with my pack, my mate.”
“You just needed to go out and test yourself. Trial by fire.” Jacks seemed completely determined to understand, even though he hadn’t at the time. Not at all. Jacks had ranted and snarled, told him he was a damned fool and that he would miss what they had.
Jacks had been right.
He snorted, rolled his eyes a little. “I didn’t pass that test, did I?”
“Are you shitting me?” Jacks took a long, hard kiss. “You survived. You survived when so many were broken.”
Yeah. Yeah, he had. He’d survived and he’d come home and found his mate.
He caught Jacks’s eyes, nodded.
“So.” Grinning, Jacks rubbed noses with him, making his eyes cross. “We fight. Yeah?”
“Yeah. Yeah. This is our land.” He wasn’t sure. He really wasn’t; they had people, weapons. Still. He had Jacks. So yeah, they’d fight.
“We can work on some safeguards.” Tugging him into the little office behind the kitchen, Jacks opened a drawer, pulled out a topo map. Damn. The man had scribbled all sorts of shit. Locations of underground springs, other wolves, and bolt-holes.
Leaning against Jacks’s side, Houston began to believe.
JACKS STRETCHED, scratching a little, pondering letting the wolf take him so he could really get a good scratching in behind his ear.
He yawned, then went back to being on watch. The truck that Houston had seen hadn’t shown up again, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t. This time he planned on seeing it.
Houston was curled up, sleeping hard, fingers over his nose. Something had settled with his mate, eased, and Houston had crashed, sleeping like a puppy for two days.
It was the cutest fucking thing he’d ever seen. Jacks had been smiling over it for about a day and a half. Once he realized t
hat Houston wasn’t sick.
His mate was dreaming, legs running, Houston chuffing and grinning, chasing something.
Oh, look at that. Maybe it was a fat rabbit or a prairie dog. The urge to go and tickle those lean ribs was strong.
God, it was good to see—Houston sleeping and having good dreams, laughing and moaning. Calling for him. For him.
He wandered over, scratching his own ribs, his grin splitting his face again. Then he backed off a step and pounced, jumping right all up in the bed and Houston’s sprawl.
Houston yipped and twisted, rolling from under him and moving to attack, fingers digging into his ribs to tickle.
Struggling and laughing, Jacks bent and took a bite, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to feel. “You were dream chasing, baby.”
“Deer.” Houston chuckled, stretched for him a little. “A big buck.”
“Yeah? Did you get close?” He swore he’d woke up once with little white tail hairs in his mouth he’d been so close to catching his dream deer.
“We did.” Houston nuzzled his shoulder, his jaw, relaxed and playful like he remembered the pup being back at the beginning—all teeth and tail.
“Mmm. You and the mouse in your pocket?” Houston didn’t have pockets right now and he knew it. Had to be him.
“Me and my mate. You might’ve met him once.” That tongue headed south, teeth threatening.
“You think?” Oh, that felt hellacious good. His whole body shivered with it, his moan slipping right out.
“Maybe.” His nipple was circled, Houston’s tongue sliding around and around.
“Uhn. Love that. So much.” Body arching, he rocked and groaned, asking for more.
Houston’s lips fastened over his nipple, sucking hard enough that his toes curled.
“Yeah. Yeah.” Babbling probably wasn’t a good look for him, but he couldn’t care just then. All he could do was revel in the heat, the touching.
Houston’s hair had grown long enough for him to tangle his fingers in, to hold on to. Soft. Fuck, he didn’t remember it being that soft. His thumb and forefinger rubbed a bit back and forth, his fingertips tingling. Jacks hummed, jonesing on the sweet feeling.
