Chapter Ten #2
Jalen dragged his gaze up, pupils blown, mouth wet. That trust punched a hole through Chase’s chest big enough to drive a truck through. He pushed in an inch, then another.
Tight. Hot. Every muscle in his back locked down with the urge to slam home.
“Fuck,” Jalen whispered, voice shaky but hungry. He rocked up, asking without asking.
“Take me,” Chase said, the words low and blunt.
Another push, deeper this time, until he was seated to the root and stars crowded the edges of his vision . He held there, riding the clutch while Jalen’s body accepted him.
A low curse scraped out, Chase’s mouth busy at Jalen’s ear, whispering nonsense that somehow sounded like nothing and filthy all at once.
A shift of hips found the angle he wanted.
Jalen’s back bowed off the mattress, a choked moan breaking out.
Perfect. Chase pulled back and drove in again, setting a pace that balanced sanity and the wrecking ball urge to pound.
The bedframe complained. Springs chimed.
Somewhere downstairs, a door shut. None of it mattered.
Sweat built along Chase’s temple and stung his eyes. He took Jalen’s wrists and pinned them above his head, changing the leverage. That earned him a keening sound that shot straight down his spine. His own voice went filthy without permission, praising every clench, every push back.
“Look at me,” he said, because he wanted those eyes. When Jalen focused, hazy and wrecked, something in Chase snapped the rest of the way. Chase kissed him hard, swallowing the sounds, fucking him through it.
“Harder,” Jalen got out, breath catching at the end.
Request granted. He hit a pace that had both of them gritting teeth.
Sweat slicked between their bodies. Jalen’s cock slid against his stomach with every thrust, smearing precum, leaving a hot trail that made Chase thrust harder just to feel it again.
He wrapped a hand around Jalen’s cock and stroked in time with his hips.
That drew a wrecked sound from his mate’s throat that might have been Chase’s name.
“Perfect,” Chase said, more for himself than anything. He had to say something or he’d forget English and just growl like an animal. Not a great look with someone who already thought he howled at moon.
Jalen clenched around him so tight it bordered on cruel. Every thrust dragged a curse from Chase’s throat.
He tucked his mouth against the place where neck met shoulder and breathed his mate in. Teeth grazed skin.
Jalen arched, offering instinctively, and that was all the yes Chase would ever need.
He drove deep and stayed there, grinding into that spot inside, hand working Jalen’s cock.
Pressure coiled tight, breath punched out of him in rough bursts, and for once, he didn’t try to outlast it.
He wanted them to fall together. Chase dropped his hand to Jalen’s hip, held him still, and snapped his hips with focus that was almost savage.
“Come for me,” he said, voice torn.
Jalen arched like the words flipped a switch, hips jerking, body locking down around him.
Hot pulses spilled over Chase’s stomach, and that sight—Jalen stripped bare and taking him so well—punched a groan out of him he couldn’t have swallowed if his life depended on it.
His orgasm coiled fast, violent. He bent, his mouth finding that place where destinies met.
Canines sank through skin with a sweetness that had nothing to do with taste. Hot copper hit his tongue. Jalen cried out and clamped down around him, and Chase drove deep, spilling inside his mate, held there by that perfect grip and the knowledge that he would never be the same.
Something hit between heartbeats.
His chest thudded, then stuttered, then matched the rhythm under his palm where he still held Jalen’s throat.
Two heartbeats stumbled into sync, beating the same pattern, and it felt like a door clicking open in a house he hadn’t realized was his.
Not pain. Impact. Realignment. Every instinct in him sighed, finally.
From their chests, mist rose, thin and luminous.
From Jalen’s sternum a pale pink ribbon unfurled, shimmering like morning light over water.
From Chase’s chest, a smoky silver strand uncoiled to meet it.
They twined midair, spiraling together with an inevitability that felt older than his years.
No pain, just a slide of cool across superheated skin, a snap of rightness that rolled through him like a lock clicking open—and then each shot into the opposite chest, sinking without resistance.
Jalen sucked in a breath like he’d just broken the surface.
It was his suffocating trauma, how he’d always been drowning under it.
This moment was Jalen’s air. His freedom.
His first real breath. Chase felt it inside his own lungs, the same pull, the same release.
Their heart kicked once, hard, then settled into a steady pace that made every nerve in his body exhale.
He eased his canines free and licked the bite, sealing the skin with lazy care while aftershocks rolled through them both.
Jalen’s pulse fluttered under his tongue, synced with his, steady and present in a way that felt like someone had moved furniture around in his chest and somehow made the room bigger.
Silence stretched while they came back to themselves.
Sheets stuck to damp backs. A breeze nosed through the cracked window and cooled sweat where it beaded at Chase’s hairline.
Somewhere down the hall, someone laughed, faint and distant, a reminder the world still existed and was profoundly inconvenient.
Still buried in heat, Chase braced on his forearms and studied the man beneath him. Flush lingering. Eyes glassy. Mouth swollen. A drop of sweat tracked from Jalen’s temple into his hairline and disappeared. Chase caught it with a kiss anyway.
“Mine,” he said, because accuracy mattered.
And Jalen didn’t panic. Didn’t freeze. Didn’t run. His hand slid into Chase’s hair and tugged. Not hard—just enough to answer. That was Jalen saying, I’m still here. I choose this. I choose you. It wasn’t submissive. It was acknowledgment. It was partnership.
Chase started moving again, slower this time, chasing the leftover drag of pleasure. Jalen’s legs tightened at his hips, heels pressing into the backs of his thighs, body welcoming every push like they’d been doing this for years. Greedy little thing. Perfect.
They rode the afterglow until his cock softened enough to slide free.
Warmth spilled out over his fingers when he cupped Jalen between the legs, a possessive smear that made something feral in him preen.
He grabbed a towel off the chair and did a quick, careful cleanup, mouth finding Jalen’s between passes for kisses that were more gratitude than lust.
Sheets were a lost cause. He dragged the blanket up anyway and rolled, hauling Jalen on top of him because distance sounded like a terrible idea.
“Congratulations,” he muttered against damp hair. “You’re stuck with a 240-year-old fossil who makes decent French toast and questionable life choices.”
Jalen huffed a laugh into his skin. That tiny puff warmed Chase’s chest in a way no fireplace ever had. He tucked his nose to Jalen’s hair and breathed him in.
Outside, a night bird called. Somewhere in the house, a pipe ticked.
His wolf purred—not literally, he’d argue that point to the grave—and settled down for the first time since he’d scented Jalen in that apartment.
Chase tightened his arm around Jalen and closed his eyes, already planning a late-night errand that involved a certain piece of human trash and a dark stretch of road.
Later. For now, he had a mate to hold.