Caster
His mind was saturated with pleasure, drunk, high on the power only another submissive would understand.
His body was in pieces, each piece alive to a sensation he’d never had before.
He was in the stratosphere of subspace, and even in that distant cavern so far from reality, he didn’t know if he was alive or dead; there was the niggling worry that he’d given too much.
The gentle touch became a caress, and Mark was torn between fighting his assent into subspace and the need to run.
The longer he resisted the pull, the more it became clear he couldn’t let himself soar to those heights.
Not here. Not now. Not when this was a one-time thing.
He was willing to give everything, but that.
“Are you OK?”
Mark nodded again, sure his voice would be too broken and small.
Caster’s brilliant smile calmed his racing heart. “Good.” He stared at him for a moment and then pushed away from his body. “Let’s get you more comfortable.” He jumped off the bed, and even in his sated state, Mark appreciated his nude form.
His smile was incandescent, and Mark sighed. It’s unfair that you can read my mind so easily.
“If you don’t want me to, put up a barrier.” He walked towards the bathroom, pausing as he approached the open door. “Although I’d rather you didn’t.”
Mark reached for the mental barrier every supernatural could erect around their mind, but stopped short of drawing the curtains closed. He liked Caster in his mind.
“Good.” Caster pointed at the bed. “Stay right there!”
Mark’s body eased further into the mattress, giving in to Caster’s will before he could process the command, and he couldn’t help his smile.
The sound of running water floated from the bathroom to his contented mind, and Mark reached for his constant companion.
The wolf flooded his system with its unique blend of healing elixir, a sign of its contentment.
He reveled in the connection, still uneasy with how it came about, but grateful nonetheless. He’d never felt stronger, not since…
He pushed thoughts of him out of his mind, behind the barrier that held his grief. Caster would not appreciate his breaking that rule.
His eyes were closed as he reacquainted his body with the power his wolf provided, but Caster’s stare, unmistakable as it was and familiar as it had grown to be, made his skin tingle with renewed desire. How could he want someone so much?
Caster’s chuckle had him opening his eyes. “Let me know when you have an answer for that one.” He leaned against the doorjamb, the desire his words indicated evidenced by his hard cock and the crimson hue obscuring the gray in his eyes.
“Are you OK to move?”
The question drew Mark away from the display that was Caster’s arousal.
“Do you really want me to repeat myself?”
He gasped and nodded, unsure what the question had been, but certain the answer to every question Caster had would always be yes.
Caster smiled. “Come here.”
His body scrambled to obey, the bedsheets they had twisted about in their haste to chase their pleasure tripping him as his feet hit the floor. His weight settled on shaky legs, and he accepted the floor’s irresistible call as he started to crumble, only for Caster’s strength to surround him.
Caster’s movement had been too quick to decipher, his arms a cage around Mark’s waist. His legs regained their strength the longer he accepted Caster’s support, but he didn’t want to move away from it, from him.
Caster pulled him closer and, in a blur of movement, lifted him into his arms. He closed his eyes on a sigh as Caster carried him to the bathroom. He couldn’t contain his moan the second his body sank into the hot water in the bathtub.
“Good?”
He looked at Caster, who knelt on the side of the tub, and nodded his reply, still too lost in the way every muscle yielded to the massaging heat.
“Make room for me,” Caster said as he climbed behind him, pulling Mark against his chest. Any tension their play had brought dissolved further into the water, into Caster’s strength behind him, and he sighed in unison with his wolf, who seemed more asleep than awake.
A subtle splash echoed in the large bathroom, but Mark refused to indulge his curiosity, keeping his eyes closed. The warm pass of what could only be a washcloth over his face startled him, but the soothing whisper from Caster to relax kept him content.
The washcloth spread its care over his shoulder and onto his chest, and Mark was there again, on the edge of the forbidden stratosphere. He could see it, almost touch it, but nothing good could come from giving in.
Caster’s hand in his hair was the distraction he needed to draw back from the edge.
“I love your hair.” The gentle touch continued as did the washcloth, now past his ribs on its way to his lower body.
“It is full and perfect. I love how it feels on my fingers.” Caster’s hand moved from his hair to his cheek, tilting his head upward, turning it toward him. “Open your eyes, baby.”
The washcloth went past his abs, they rippled in response, his cock hardening from the sensation its softness promised and the look in Caster’s eyes.
Caster’s thumb found his lower lip. “Let me take care of you. Just for today.”
He was unsure who moved first, but the sensation of the washcloth, the warm water, and his relaxed arousal disappeared into the familiar taste of Caster’s mouth.
The kiss was still dominant; there was no way it would ever not be, but every brush of the tongue brought a longing he hadn’t expressed in a long time.
He wanted Caster’s cock inside him like he needed his next breath, but the tub was too small, and he wasn’t in control. The freedom of surrender he’d denied himself for a decade invaded all space in his body, mind, and soul. One day would not do. He wanted this every day.