Mike [Wounded Hearts 2] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Fel Fern

  “Owe you?” Mike asked, raising an eyebrow. “You certainly sound like a smug little cat right now, don’t you?”

  Bowen pouted. Mike had a feeling Bowen was going for fierce or defiant, but seemed unable to pull it off. Bowen only looked adorable, glaring at him right there. When little cats misbehaved, the best solution was to calm them down, dangle bait.

  “What do you want then?” Mike asked and Bowen squinted at him, probably suspicious of his change in attitude.

  “A goodnight kiss. You owe me that at least, before you send me home like I’ve done something wrong, but—”

  Mike shut his little cat up by grabbing Bowen’s chin and leaning in for a kiss. Lips touched, and Mike couldn’t stop because Bowen yielded so fucking sweetly to him, responded with a hunger similar to his own.

  Once he kissed Bowen, Mike couldn’t stop. He ran his hand past Bowen’s shirt, touching heated skin. He nipped, sucked, bit, and when Bowen prodded his tongue between Mike’s lips, Mike opened up so he could deepen the kiss. Electricity surged from his belly and went right to his dick. His tiger wanted Bowen completely at his mercy, to submit to him, beg him for more.

  Something nagged at him, why he ought to keep his distance. Bowen deserved better, but maybe he could let his guard down for one night. One night of sex didn’t have to mean anything, although he had a feeling that once they started on this particular path, there was no going back. However, once they were out of their clothes, would Bowen care about his missing leg? Would seeing what he was missing kill the mood?

  He drew away, panting. So was Bowen. The lynx shifter’s pupils dilated, swollen lips still half-parted. The smell of their combined need was thick in the air. He wanted to drag his little cat in the backseat, fuck Bowen senseless, so Bowen could barely walk in the morning. Mike would give Bowen one hell of a night to remember him by because he had to face the facts. Hook-ups were all a broken shifter like Mike could settle for.

  Bowen had been nice enough to make an effort, but Mike had cold reality to deal with the next morning, so he’d have zero expectations. One night. No holds barred. That was all he was getting.

  “We should get inside, it’s more comfortable, but…” Bowen bit his lip and Mike steeled himself of rejection.

  After that little kiss, he expected Bowen to be drunk with lust, ready to beg Mike to fuck him after more foreplay, but maybe he’d read the situation wrong.

  “But?” Mike pressed.

  “I don’t want our first time to be in that musty motel room. Can we go to your place instead?”

  “You sure?” Mike asked, not bothering to hide his surprise.

  “Yeah. Please?”

  Mike started the engine again. His heart kept beating in a staccato rhythm. His tiger couldn’t believe his luck. This time, he kept his eye on the road, speeding up, but still driving carefully. They reached his neighborhood within fifteen minutes. After Mike found a parking lot on the side of the street, he got out. Bowen took out his crutches from the backseat, smiling shyly at Mike as he offered them out.

  Most of the time, Mike hated it when someone helped him. They usually wore strained smiles, looks of pity on their faces. Bowen just looked eager, palpable waves of excitement coming off him. Thank God, Mike didn’t fumble. Crutches in place, he led the way to the elevator and to his floor. Mike’s unit was, thankfully, in front of the elevator. He walked in front of the door and fumbled for his keys.

  It felt like he was in some kind of surreal dream. First, free coffee that morning, then dinner, and now he had this sexy and handsome little lynx at his doorstep. It certainly wasn’t Christmas or his birthday, but he felt like the luckiest bastard in the world. He opened the door and they were greeted by Brownie, who wagged her tail eagerly at the sight of him.

  Mike expected her to start growling at Bowen. He seldom got any visitors, but if Abram or one of the others came by she turned hostile, as if recognizing predators in her midst.

  “Hey, girl. How are you?” Bowen asked, going up to her, bending down to pat her head.

  She licked his hand. Mike locked the door behind him.

  “I’ll just feed her and before showing you around.”

  “Can I do it? I’ve always wanted a dog,” Bowen said.

  Mike showed Bowen to the kitchen and pointed out Brownie’s two dog bowls. Once Bowen set down one full of dog food and the other with water, the lynx shifter stood back up, smiling. Mike grabbed two beers from the fridge and gestured to the living room.

  “Sorry the place is a mess, I wasn’t expecting company,” he explained as they settled down on the sofa and Bowen accepted the beer. It was a two-seater, so Mike became alarmingly aware of Bowen’s shoulders brushing against him, Bowen’s thigh brushing against his good leg. Bowen smelled good enough to eat, too—tempting. So easy for Mike to unbutton Bowen’s jeans, to play with the little shifter’s dick. Would be nice to get Bowen to mewl for him.

  “Are you kidding? I thought you were a clean freak,” Bowen replied, taking a sip of his beer.

  “Why didn’t you get a dog?” Mike didn’t want to ruin the evening by dragging the past back up, but he had so many questions.

  He knew Bowen had problems, something that had to do with Bowen’s brother. Were there people after them? Why? Curiosity always got the better of cats, but Mike wanted to know what he was dealing with, so he could be prepared. Prepared? Here was Mike, making presumptions again, assuming Bowen would want him to stick around even if tonight went sideways.

  “Brad is allergic to dogs, and we travel from place to place, so it didn’t seem practical.”

  Mike studied Bowen, who began to fidget. “You’ll tell me about yourself, about what kind of trouble you’re in, when you’re ready.”

  Bowen laughed. “That sounded like a statement, not a question.”

  “Trust takes time to build, but I’m willing to do the work. Aren’t you?”

  Bowen let out a breath. “Mike, I can’t drag you to my problems. The way you reacted in the restaurant—”

  Bowen faltered, as if the lynx shifter was finding a polite way to express his thoughts. Mike stiffened, aware Bowen brought up an excellent point. Mike was in no position to protect anyone because if his control over his tiger fell apart, he’d turn into nothing better than a feral beast who didn’t have the ability to differentiate between friend and foe.

  “I was happy,” Bowen finally said. Mike blinked, not expecting that. Bowen continued, “No one has ever defended me like that. My brother protected me all my life, but he isn’t as strong as you. When a situation like that came along and we had to face a powerful, dominant shifter, he’d urge me to run. It was nice, pretending for a moment that I’m someone worthy of your protection.”

  I protect what’s mine, my mate.

  That thought scared the shit out of Mike. Thank God, he didn’t utter them out loud, because Bowen would definitely turn tail and run. They sipped their beers, the tension building between them. Once Bowen and he set their empty bottles down, Mike couldn’t take the silence any longer. He grabbed a fistful of Bowen’s shirt and slammed his lips over the eager little cat’s mouth again.

  Whatever direction tonight was heading toward, Mike was game.

  Chapter Six

  Bowen responded to Mike’s rough and deep kiss with the same eagerness and hunger. Back in the car, there were too many obstructions that got in the way of them touching, like the gear shift and seat belts. When he boldly suggested they head to Mike’s place, he didn’t expect Mike to agree. The tiger shifter had shown hesitation, and he’d been terrified to push. One wrong move could send Mike away, and Bowen didn’t want that.

  This kiss changed things. Bowen slipped a hand past Mike’s shirt, touching Mike’s six-pack abs. He groaned. So much muscle for him to explore. He felt Mike’s hands on his shirt, then the sound of ripping fabric. Once their shirts disappeared, Mike withdrew his mouth, golden pupils laced with lust. Bowen’s gaze slipped, taking in Mike’s powerful body. Flutter
s appeared in his stomach.

  Bowen wanted to touch, lick, play—the list was endless. He settled for bending forward, licking at one nipple, groaning when Mike wove fingers into his hair, giving a little tug, a reminder who was in control. Bowen liked that, how Mike maintained dominance. He always knew he wanted to submit to the right man, to his mate.

  Mate.

  Right now, the word terrified him because the last thing he wanted was to see Mike get hurt on his account. Mike was lethal, the tiger shifter had proven that tonight, but against Blank and his cronies?

  Don’t think. Do.

  What was the point of thinking about tomorrow, when tonight demanded all his focus and attention? Bowen moved in front of Mike. He sucked on Mike’s nipple, kissing it, before moving to the next. Bowen kissed his way down, hoping to erode all of Mike’s insecurities about his body. The tiger groaned, and he finally unbuckled Mike’s jeans and drew out Mike’s dick.

  He stared a couple of moments.

  “Wow. You’re bigger than I imagined,” he whispered, already imagining wrapping his lips around that veined, thick length, and Mike pushing that dick in his tiny hole.

  “Scared?” Mike sounded amused.

  “No way.” To prove his point, he lowered his head, flicked a tongue at the pre-cum there, tasting undeniable male saltiness and musk. He tongued Mike’s slit, swirled at the bulbous head. Mike snarled softly, a happy sound. Bowen explored every ridge and bump of Mike’s prick, amazed at how Mike hardened under his care. Reaching Mike’s heavy, velvety balls, he sucked at them.

  Mike sucked in a breath.

  “Enough, little cat, before I bend you over the coffee table and rut you.”

  The erotic image sprang up in his head. Oh. Bowen would like that a lot. Still, he hadn’t made his big tiger purr, so he opened his lips and took in Mike’s cock. He gagged at first, unused to Mike’s size, but a couple of sucks and licks, he managed to accommodate Mike’s girth. Mike gripped Bowen’s hair tighter, to the point of pain, but he liked it. His pulse raced and his own prick strained against his jeans.

  Bowen bobbed his head up and down, liking every moan he drew out of Mike. Mike gave his hair a pull, and he paused.

  “I’m close. I’m taking over. Swallow,” Mike instructed.

  He held his mouth open as Mike pushed his prick and out of him. Mike’s breathing turned ragged, so he knew Mike was close to climax. One last thrust in his mouth and Mike erupted. The tiger shifter growled out his pleasure as he spilled his cum down Bowen’s throat. He swallowed every drop, but some leaked from the corners of his mouth. Mike thumbed the droplets, then lifted his fingers to his mouth and licked at them, like a satisfied cat.

  Bowen blushed, incredibly aroused by the sight.

  “Take off your jeans, little cat,” Mike said in a hoarse voice.

  Bowen eagerly slipped out of his pants and bottoms and helped Mike out of his. He hesitated at the prosthetic. “Do you want to keep it on or take it off?”

  He was aware of Mike intently watching him, waiting for his reaction maybe. The dominant tiger was still thinking he’d run, which made him a little angry.

  “Mike, my dick’s close to bursting, so please. Hurry up and decide.”

  “Off.” Mike bent down and with a few grunts, unlatched the prosthetic. Bowen paid attention. Hopefully someday, Mike would let him help. It seemed like an intimate gesture, an ultimate show of trust, which was something he badly wanted to earn.

  “Let me,” Bowen insisted, holding out his hands. Mike paused, then handed him the prosthetic. “It’s heavier than I thought. Where do you want me to set it?”

  “By the TV console.”

  Bowen gently placed it down, before returning to Mike. Mike had been amputated from the knee down, he noticed, and Mike was watching him warily, an injured predator ready to bolt or lash out any second.

  It was up to Bowen, to chase away those fears, so he straddled Mike, until his legs hung on either side of Mike’s thighs. Mike’s pupils changed colors again, and the tiger shifter automatically banded one muscled arm around his waist, tugging him close. He let out a breath, as their sweat-slicked chests touched, so did their dicks. He noticed that Mike was already getting hard again. God, Bowen was happy they were both shifters.

  Mike grabbed the back of Bowen’s neck with his other hand and crushed their lips together again, thrusting heat down his throat. Bowen shamelessly rubbed his body against Mike, groaning as Mike closed his fingers around his dick and began working him, moving up and down. Mike flicked the pre-cum on his tip, used it as a lubricant to stroke him. Mike released Bowen’s mouth and closed his lips on the side of Bowen’s neck, licking at the spot between shoulder and neck.

  His heart beats kicked up a notch. A kind of peace settled over his lynx. He silently willed Mike to do it, complete the mating bond by biting him.

  “I’m sorry,” Mike whispered, dragging his teeth lower.

  “What are you sorry for? I want you to claim me.”

  Reckless words, but he wasn’t drunk on the moment. Bowen realized it was something he badly wanted. All the time he and his brother ran, moved from one place to the next, he wondered if he’d ever find a placed to settle down and call home, find a mate who looked at him like he was more than a possession, but someone worthy of fierce love and devotion.

  That man was Mike, he knew that with absolutely certainty, but his train of thoughts disappeared when Mike numbed his mind with more heated kisses. Mike left a little trail of bite marks, too, hard enough to bruise but not break skin. He liked knowing Mike was eager to mark him up, show the world Bowen was his.

  A tingle went down his spine. Mike’s hand moved from his prick, to the skin separating dick from asshole, and fingered his puckered entrance. He let out a breath, groaned when Mike pushed a finger and stilled.

  Mike looked surprised to find him slick and ready. “This is my secret, my curse,” he whispered. “I’m a rare male lynx shifter capable of giving birth, the equivalent of an Omega wolf.”

  Mike swiftly recovered, nodded. “I won’t ever betray your trust. This ability is a gift, not a curse.”

  Mike pushed a second finger in, widening Bowen for access.

  “It’s a curse,” he whispered. “If I hadn’t been born like this, my brother wouldn’t need to give up his life and spend it running with me.”

  “If you were mine, I’ll never let you out of my sight. I’ll make sure nothing and no one can ever touch you.” Mike kissed Bowen’s neck while he said those words. Once again, Bowen felt the edge of sharp teeth, grazing skin

  “I want to be yours.” He looked Mike in the eyes. “Badly.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

  Mike positioned his dick into Bowen’s entrance and he gasped as Mike breached him. It burned for a couple of seconds, but once Mike pushed past the thick ring of muscles, it was easier to breathe. Finally, Mike buried himself all the way in, until Bowen could feel Mike’s heavy balls slapping against his ass.

  Bowen wasn’t a virgin. On lonely nights, when his brother was out seeking solace in the arms of a woman, he’d recklessly find a guy to shack up with, but he’d never had sex in this position. It was intimate, left him feeling exposed, because Mike had a view of his dick and the expressions on his face.

  Bowen locked his arms around Mike’s neck. “You’re the man I’ve been waiting for my entire life, my mate.”

  Mike sucked in a breath, then began to fuck him, slow and sweet at first, until Bowen started meeting Mike with each push. The tiger shifter hammered into him with deep, fast strokes that left both of them panting like animals in heat. He sunk fingers into Mike’s shoulder blades, liking the snarl that came from Mike’s lips.

  “Please.” He bit Mike’s bottom lip, which only riled up the tiger shifter.

  Tiny jolts started from his insides and went to his dick, to the rest of him. Every muscle in his body tightened, ready for the explosion Mike would soon set off. Mike didn’t stop
stroking Bowen’s dick and the dual sensations proved too much. He gasped as Mike slammed into his sweet spot.

  “Fuck, little cat. You look so sweet, like that.” Mike nailed his prostate again, making him grasp, claw at Mike’s arms, but the tiger shifter didn’t seem to mind the pain.

  Mike gave his balls a squeeze, which did the trick. His mind splintered and Bowen came, screaming, painting Mike’s abs and ribs with cum. Unthinkingly, he offered Mike his throat. Mike roared, the sound bouncing off the walls. There was nothing human in that noise anymore, but he didn’t care. He trusted Mike and Mike’s tiger. The striped beast would never hurt him intentionally.

  Mike opened his mouth, flashing a row of sharp teeth, then struck without warning. Canines broke skin, hit bone, and he cried out, squirming, but he couldn’t move. Mike held onto him so tightly, Mike would leave bruises on his skin, but Bowen didn’t mind that at all. Never before anyone had wanted him so fiercely, it hurt and felt good at the same time.

  Mike pulled away. A tickle of blood dripped down Mike’s unshaven jaw. Lazy golden eyes of Mike’s tiger stared back at him, a silent dare there. His turn. He eyed Mike’s left collarbone and left his own, smaller bite there. Something changed inside his lynx and Bowen could see Mike’s enormous and fierce white tiger now. Their animals forged one strong bond, their mate bond, and he could sense Mike’s beast becoming more at peace.

  Mike pistoned in and out of him several more times before letting out an earth shattering growl. He moaned as Mike filled his ass with cum.

  Bowen held onto Mike, until Mike finished shooting his load. Still high on the ecstasy that came with post-orgasm bliss, he leaned his head against Mike’s chest, feeling content. Mike started stroking his back, which was nice. He purred in contentment.

  “Bowen,” Mike began a few minutes later.

  “No,” he interrupted before Mike could say anything else. “Don’t ruin this, or say this was a mistake. Don’t you dare. Can’t you feel it, how we’re better like this?”

  “Yeah. I never planned on saying this was a mistake.” Mike wore a smirk. “You’re bound to me now, little cat. For better or for worse.”