I pull out my phone and Google information about mating. I know the basics, that shifters pick one mate for life. It’s lasting, more serious than marriage, according to one forum.
I’m twenty-two. Should I be really thinking being mated to a shifter? The heat between us is explosive, no doubt about it. I know it’s not merely lust either.
Last night, I remember Lance warding my nightmares away with a simple hug. All I want to do is snuggle next to him, knowing sleep won’t elude me.
Still … am I ready for a forever kind of love, when I’m barely able to put myself together?
I can’t wrap my head fully around this. My chest constricts, and it’s hard to breathe. I touch my throat, recalling how I love Lance dragging his teeth against my skin. I wanted him to bite me, to give me his mating mark.
Didn’t I really want this? Am I ready to enter into a relationship with not just an older guy, but a werelion and Dom to boot?
What if something goes wrong?
Lance took the first step by asking me to stay last night. I’m the one who pushed us towards this direction, and yet, here am I, hesitating.
“What’s the matter with me?” I whisper, staring at the empty space.
Restless, I begin to pace the length of the apartment. I linger by the window overlooking the street below. I finally spot Lance. My werelion carries a number of paper brown bags in his arm, probably the groceries.
He’s such a sweet guy when he’s not wearing his Dom mask. I’m a mess. We both are. He tells me there’s nothing to fix, but what if he does mate me, and finally realizes I’m a fraud?
I can’t expect him to banish my inner demons. With him hovering protectively beside me all the time, I won’t be able to find the inner strength to overcome my old fears.
Shakily, I grab my essentials—wallet, phone, and put on the clothes in the dryer. They’re warm and smell of his fabric softener.
“I’m sorry, I need time,” I say to the empty space, before doing the cowardly thing and bolting.
Chapter Ten
Lance
The doorbell rings. For a second, I think it’s Jax coming in to apologize for missing our last two sessions. I scrub at my face, but my lion doesn’t sense Jax. Just someone else. Besides, it’s been a month.
After Jax left, he wrote me an email a few days later, explaining why he needs time apart. My lion’s unhappy, but for the moment, I cling to the hope things are far from over between us.
The asshole outside keeps ringing the doorbell. I snarl under my breath and drag myself out of the couch to yank the door open, give the fucker a fright.
Duke stands there, smiling, lifting his hand to a wave. I grunt, about to slam the door into his face, but he holds out a paper bag in front of me. The smell of bacon hits my nose. My stomach rumbles.
“I accept your offering, but don’t think I’m letting you stay long,” I warn.
Duke pushes his way in. After I close the door, he looks me up and down.
“You look like shit, Lance. Bloodshot eyes, and have you been wearing sweats all week long?” Duke asks.
“Leave me alone.” I grab the bag and settle back on my couch, bringing the items out. I attack the bacon with no finesse. Duke takes the armchair beside the couch.
“I won’t tease. I’ll get to the point. Jax’s been in contact with me.”
I glower at him. “You know where my mate is?”
“Mates now?” Duke asks with a raise of his eyebrow.
I grunt. “He ran. Told me in a fucking email he needed to fix himself first.”
I still sound hurt, angry, but I don’t give a fuck. Jax has a point. If he stays with me, my overprotective instincts might take over. Smothering him will be counterproductive.
“Jax hasn’t forgotten about you, and he’s been working really hard, seeing his army-assigned therapist and shit. He wants me to give you this.” Duke took out an envelope from his coat.
“What’s this, a love letter?” I ask with a snort. Despite the act I’m pulling, deep down, hope flutters in my belly. Jax’s making an effort. I ought to do the same.
“Just read it.” Duke rises to his feet. “I’ll let myself out.”
Before Duke does that, I notice him looking around the living room space. A month’s long enough for me to dabble in a little redecorating. All of Curtis’s things, I put away. I won’t forget him, never will, but I’m ready to move on.
“I like the new changes,” Duke says.
Before the other man leaves, I call out, “Thank you.”
Once I’m alone again, I open the envelope. Inside is a letter with a single line of address and three words.
I miss you.
My gaze hovers on the address, and with a start, I recognize it.
St. Gabriel’s cemetery. It’s where Curtis’s grave lies.
Fuck. Reading this summons a maelstrom of emotions inside of me. Once I move past the initial outrage and anger, I can finally see we both need time apart.
For the first time in days, I abandon my usual self-pity routine. The date’s set for three day’s time. I finish breakfast and head for the bathroom. The first thing I do is shave my days-old beard. The next, a long shower.
I lean my head against the shower tiles, letting the cold water pelt my head and back. Excitement courses through my lion. Without thinking, I close my hand around my dick and picture Jax in my head. I do this plenty of times, but today’s different.
I move my hand faster, jerking myself until I’m panting, imagining what sort of punishment Jax is in for. Even without kink, I can imagine fucking him until he can barely walk. With a growl, I pump my cock faster, until my jizz hits the tile walls and my balls empty.
One thing’s for certain. Once we meet, nothing can stop me from claiming what’s rightfully mine.
****
Jax
I shove my hands into the front pockets of my jacket, wondering if Lance will show. I lean against my beat up Chevy and breathe in and out. Three days ago, Duke told me Lance got my note. I’m nervous as hell, still guilty about the way I broke off things.
Thinking about reunion provided the motivation I needed to get my life back together. I’m finally seeing my therapist, twice a week at first, then one. I signed up for classes at the local community college and found a new job near campus, fixing cars.
It feels nice, taking charge, becoming an adult. God willing, it’s fucking hard as hell. My scars still twitch in remembrance, but the phantom pain hits me less often now.
Since its mid-February, there’s only me in the freezing parking lot of the cemetery. Over the past few days, I can only second-guess myself, wondering if this is too much of a bold move.
Grief is private. I get that, but I want to share this with Lance. If we’re going to really do this, there will be no secrets between us. A black Bronco pulls in, and my heart races. Lance parks his ride four lots away from mine and gets out.
I hold my breath. He’s wearing a black puffy winter jacket, and underneath that, a red flannel shirt. No scarves or gloves. I’m all bundled up, but I remember shifters burn hot.
There’s not much sun these days, just gray clouds, but his silver-streaked gold hair stands out. Gold eyes pin mine. He strolls towards me. Emotion clogs my throat.
“I miss you, so goddamn much,” are the first words I say.
Shit. Where did my script go? Why am I acting like a brat?
Lance keeps walking towards me, not speaking. Fear suddenly grabs hold of me. What if he’s here to tell me off, that we can’t work out?
“I'm so sorry. I was scared and acting irrationally. Things just seemed to be moving too fast. I promise I'll be better, that I'm going to confront my issues and become a better mate to you. You deserve better," I'm babbling, and I stop. Wait for Lance's reaction.
It turns out I have nothing to worry about. Lance pulls me into a bone-crushing hug, stealing the breath from my lungs for a second.
“Apology accepted. Fuck. Missed you, too. It was hard,
” Lance admits, loosening his hold a little. He tips my chin up, studies me and smiles. That smile goes right to my pulsing dick. I wonder how he’ll react, knowing I masturbate every night, thinking of him. “I like the look in your eyes now.”
“Really?”
Lance’s breath is warm against my ear. “I’ve been waiting to play.”
I shiver involuntarily. “I can’t wait.”
Lance parts from me. “Let’s do this. Let me introduce Curtis.”
He starts walking to the direction of the graves. I catch up and shyly, reach out and clasp our fingers together. It’s funny how holding hands, like we’re in high school, feels so goddamn intimate somehow. Special.
The path’s a little icy, but Lance walks slowly, steadily until we pass a statue of a marble angel. Beyond that, I finally see Curtis’s gravestone. Lance’s been here recently, because there’s a Christmas wreath there.
“Curtis, meet Jax. He’s one hell of a human,” Lance says.
I take a few steps forward, see the inscription. Beloved friend. Amazing mate.
I bow my head, knowing the words to say. “I hope to be a wonderful mate to your lion here.”
Lance chuckles. We linger there for a couple of moments longer. Lance says nothing, simply stares at the tombstone.
“Let’s go.” He finally notices me standing by the side, rubbing my hands. “You cold?”
I shake my head, stubborn. Lance takes off his jacket, placing it around my shoulders.
“What about you?” It’s warm and smells like him. I want to keep it forever.
“The cold doesn’t bother me much,” he says.
I give him a skeptical look. He growls.
“You want to stay here, boy? It’s beginning to snow heavily,” he remarks.
Boy. I grin.
“I miss it when you call me that.” Lance’s right. Fat snowflakes descend on our heads, melting, freezing. I groan. “Let’s head back to my place?”
“Your place?”
I nod. “It’s really mine. Okay, I’m renting, but it’s a studio and I’m not crashing at a friend’s place or having a roommate.”
“We have a lot of things to talk about,” he says. “Will you tell me what you’ve been doing the past few weeks?”
I nod, hesitate. “Can you share stories about Curtis with me?”
I expect him to refuse, to recoil at the old hurt. Instead, Lance laces our fingers together and begins leading us back to the parking lot. “Fair enough.”
“You’ve changed, too,” I observe out loud.
“It’s only right,” he says with a laugh. “Take your car or mine?”
I pout, wishing we can be in one vehicle. He seems to understand my predicament, because he says, “We’ll take your car. I’ll come back for mine tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
He growl. “Are you second-guessing your Dom, boy?”
I quickly shake my head, excitement humming in my veins. “No, Sir.”
“Good, because I’m tallying the number of times you’ve mouthed off to me.”
A shudder creeps down my spine. I can’t wait to be at my lion’s mercy again, to surrender my control to him. To feel completely owned, loved by him.
I fish for my car keys and take the driver’s seat. During the drive, we talk. It strikes me I want to know more about Lance. We know the basics, but I want to dig deeper and he’s the same. I’m not worried, because there’s plenty of time for that.
Chapter Eleven
Jax
With the roads still frozen, it takes us twenty minutes to arrive in my neighborhood. Along the way, we pick up coffee and donuts through a drive-through. It’s nice talking to Lance. It’s easy. He’s a good listener and never interrupts.
Once we’re out of my car, we stumble into the elevator. Lance grabs me close, kissing me until my head spins. He pins me against the wall, and his warm body chases the winter cold away. A ping sounds, indicating we’re on my floor. He growls, nips at my neck, a reminder, before dragging me out.
I’m loving every moment of this. It’s like we’re done with sweet and moving onto some rough loving. My hands tremble with the effort of sliding the key into my door, especially when Lance begins leaving hot kisses down the side of my neck. I moan, tangling my finger into his hair as he sucks on the cords of my throat.
“We need to get inside,” I manage, panting.
Lance takes the key from me and opens it for us. We enter, and I fumble for the light switch and he locks the door behind him.
“It’s nothing much, small but adequate,” I say, blabbering.
He laughs, reversing our positions by grabbing my shoulders and slamming me against the wall. My back digs against the wood. My dick’s rock-hard for him, and I can’t wait to feel his cock in me.
“Shut up,” he says fondly, before sealing his lips over mine.
This kiss. Fuck, I miss it, how he’s capable of making me forget everything around me. It’s rough and full of bite, just the way I like it. When he pulls back, I’m shaky, about to sink into the floor in bliss, but he shrugs my jacket from my shoulders.
The rest of our clothes come off.
“I need,” I whisper.
“What do you need? Tell me,” he says in that goddamn soothing yet growly voice I miss so much.
“Me over your lap. Your marks all over my body. You.” I’m not sure I’m making sense, but he seems to understand. We’re both naked now and wow. I gaze at his body. “Did you, like, get more ripped or something?”
“I work out excessively when I’m stressed.”
“Oh. Nice. Me, I turn to eating.”
The next thing I know, he makes a grab for me and easily tosses me over his shoulder, like I’m a sack of rice.
“Hey!” I protest, but fuck, this is so hot and primal. He brings me over to my bed, tosses me there and sits on the edge. He pats his lap, and I know what’s coming.
He frowns. “Each second you delay this will only add more to the count.”
I scramble over his lap.
“Spread,” he orders, and I push my thighs further apart. “You earned yourself a set of twenty for leaving without telling me. Another set for being mouthy today.”
Heat crawls to my cheeks and neck as he slides his huge hand down my crack, giving my dick and balls a squeeze. Another hand, he uses to squeeze at my nipples, making me groan.
Without warning, he delivers a powerful smack. Yelping, I squirm on his lap, but he grabs my wrists and pins them behind my back.
“Take your punishment like a good boy.”
Oh God. This dialogue. I moan as he begins swatting me, left cheek, then right. Lance pulls my left leg to the side, to deliver a smack on my inner thigh. I try to close my legs in vain, but I’m loving every moment of this.
Lance does my right thigh, too, not sparing my dick, balls, my little hole. By the time he reaches twenty, I’m bouncing on lap, trying to rub my needy cock against his jeans. He pinches my welts, making me gasp.
“It’s time for the last twenty. Where are we, boy?” he asks.
“Green,” I utter, trying to push my cock against his thigh again, but I desist when he pinches my balls.
“Do you need me to cage your cock or are you going to behave?” he demands.
“I’ll behave.” I’ll try at least. I steal a peek at him. The smile’s still there. Gorgeous bastard’s enjoying this as much as I.
He nods in satisfaction at my answer. I can feel the press of his erection against my side and can’t wait for him to throw me down, fuck me. First, I need to survive his next set of spanking.
Lance doesn’t start immediately. He runs his hand over the sore spots, the marks he made earlier, humming under his breath. I quiver, every muscle in my body tense. His hand lands on my ass again, the thud startling in the silence.
“Ow,” I complain, beginning to buckle, but he doesn’t let up. I press my face into the denim of his pants, glad he can’t see my face bright red like
a tomato.
“Count,” he commands, then spanks me again, this blow landing on an aching spot. I groan.
“One,” I grit out, breathless as he delivers each blow in succession. I’m pleading by the time he reaches the halfway mark, making promises. “I’ll do anything you want!”
He chuckles. “Still ten to go, boy.”
Christ. He pats my welts, and I mewl. It feels like a long time, but he eventually reaches twenty. I’m smarting from the spanking, and horny as hell.
“Good boy.”
The compliment goes right to my head. My dick’s rock hard between my legs, and it takes everything of me to keep it in.
He arranges me easily, utilizing his supernatural strength until I’m straddling his lap. The position is alarmingly intimate, and my ass is still sensitive that I shift a couple of times.
“Do you want my cock in you?” he asks.
“You know I do. Sir.” I remember to add the last word, but he doesn’t punish me for forgetting.
I wrap my hands around his neck as he undoes his jeans, pulling his dick up and pressing the leaking tip against my entrance. Lance then snarls.
“The condom,” he begins.
I shake my head. “I’m clean, and shifters don’t catch anything.”
“You sure?”
“I want to be ridden bareback.”
A serious look crosses his face. “Once we do this, there’s no going back, Jax. The lion in me wants to claim you, make you ours forever.”
“I’m ready,” I tell him without hesitation. “I mean, I need to work more on myself, but this is the best I can offer.”
“You didn’t need to change for me,” he finally says.
“I do. We both began as broken, but we’re better together. I get that now.”
Lance nudges his prick into my entrance and begins penetrating me. He moves slowly, as if he wants me to feel every bump and ridge. I groan, willing my inner muscles to clench hard around his shaft. He takes my mouth, spears it open, and thrusts his tongue down my throat. I respond with equal passion.
He starts a burn inside of me, the good sort. Once he’s fully inside of me, I breathe in and out. Lance releases my lips and I’m already panting.
Sub for the Lion Page 5
