Chapter 48
When he came to, Mark was aware of two things: Caster’s smile and the fear he would never feel that way again. How long had he been out? The ecstasy that comes with full surrender doesn’t conform to space/time.
Caster’s smile grew. “About twenty minutes.” The smile died, replaced by his dependable, calm expression tinged with awe. “You were beautiful. I wanted nothing more than to join you there.”
He couldn’t hope to put the barrier up now. He was too sated to muster the effort. Plus, he wasn’t sure he wanted to lose the connection.
Caster’s hand flowed through his hair with little resistance, the contact with his scalp sending bursts of energy through his body. “Neither do I.”
A subtle frown creased his forehead, but they were close enough for Mark to notice it. Concern intruded on his calm contentment.
Caster shook his head, his calm expression returning. “No. Don’t worry. Just feel good. Can you do that for me?”
He tried to say yes, but it came out as a moan.
He pushed even closer to Caster’s body, so he was almost on top of him.
His touch moved from his hair to the back of his neck, spreading the contentment into his lower body, and Mark soaked it up like a sponge, unwilling to let a modicum of reality in.
“Let’s not think about that,” Caster whispered. “We have today, we’ll always have today.” He shifted, allowing Mark to lay his head on his shoulder, a far more comfortable position for them.
The silence dragged on, its presence more comfortable than awkward. Caster’s gentle touches morphed from a comfort to an arousing temptation, and this time, the moan from his lips was a plea.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” The hint of laughter in Caster’s words didn’t diminish his budding arousal. “Tell me about your first time.”
The request, no hint of command in his tone, was still startling enough for Mark to leave the comfort of his shoulder.
Caster didn’t skip a beat, shrugging even as his touch continued to be a distraction. “How old were you when you knew?”
“That I was submissive?” His voice was a little stronger than he’d expected it to be.
Caster nodded.
His mind went back to that moment many years ago, looking for the best way to frame it, but nothing could replace the truth. “It was an accident.”
Caster raised an eyebrow.
“You know that all wolves, except for Alphas, are submissive in one way, right?”
He waited for the nod, his audience captive even though the gentle touches continued.
“Well… even Alphas are submissive to the Prime Alpha.” He shook his head, still trying to find a way to present the subject without looking like an utter fool. “Anyway, the submission in that way is not like…”
“Like us?”
He nodded. “It’s not sexual. So, when I met a Dominant for the first time who wasn’t an Alpha, one my human side wanted to submit to, I was so fucking confused.” He laughed because the alternative was unthinkable. “He took full advantage.”
Caster’s hand stopped its wandering, resting on his hip, his body hardening.
“It’s OK. I was fine.”
“What’s his name?”
He gasped at the hardness in Caster’s tone, at the anger coiling his muscles in readiness.
“Dean took care of it.” His attempt to ease the tension only increased it.
“That wasn’t my question.”
The commanding tone returned, and Mark’s heart raced, not out of fear of what he might do, but the safety his protection promised and the implications of accepting it.
Caster’s hand moved back to the back of his head, its tightening grip signaling his impatience.
“Jerry Martin.” He placed his hand on Caster’s arm, hoping his touch could ease the anger. “He didn’t live very long after I told Dean about him.” He squeezed Caster’s arm. “Then Dean made sure I got the proper training, and there haven’t been any Jerrys since.”
“I would have killed him for that.”
Mark sighed when Caster eased his hold. “He was human, and it was a long time ago. I doubt he’d still be alive. And you?”
“What about me?”
“Have you always been so domineering?”
“Yes.”
Mark laughed. “That seems accurate. Even when you were a child?”
Caster stared at him for a moment. “I love it when you laugh. I’ve only seen it once before, but it makes you… more than beautiful.”
He lowered his gaze to Caster’s chest.
“I’ll keep telling you you’re beautiful until you believe me.”
When he chanced a glance at his face, the earnest expression tinged with the barest hint of desire had him craving more, more than today.
The thought he couldn’t hide sobered them both, and he cleared his throat.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Not that it was important. Nothing else seemed important.
“Yes. The privilege of being my father’s son didn’t help,” Caster said, a small smile on his lips. “But that was a long time ago.”
“How long ago?”
His smile widened. “Are you asking me my age?”
He shrugged. This, this conversation with no apparent direction, was safer than what he wanted.
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
“OK.” He waited. “You first.”
“850.” Caster waved his hand between them. “Well, 849 to be exact.”
He couldn’t contain his gasp. That was unexpected.
“What, it can’t be that much of a shock? I met your brother about two hundred years later, so I know he’s at least six hundred.” Caster drew further up the headboard, rearranging the pillows and sitting up. “How old are you?”
“Five hundred. 508 to be exact.” Being immortal made annual celebrations of one’s birthday too much. They were accustomed to rounding up or down to the decade. It made things much easier.
Caster frowned. “You’re a hundred years younger than your brother? How can that be?”
Mark lay on his stomach and placed a pillow under his elbow as their initial frenzied attraction dissolved into a comfortable simmer. “Wolves can procreate at any age.” He shrugged. “And I’m sure Mikey and I were a surprise to our parents.”
The confusion on Caster’s face deepened.
“My mother thought she’d only have one child.
” He stared straight at the headboard, unsure if he wanted to share the pain of his childhood.
But the floodgates had opened, and he couldn’t stop.
“And most of the time she acted like she only had one child, even when Mikey was little. It got worse when she found out my need for submission went beyond my wolf.”
Caster reached for his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK. I always had Dean and my father. And then later, Mikey.”
“Dean told me your mother passed away?”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine life without my mother.”
They both smiled. “She’s amazing.”
“That she is.”
Mark turned onto his side, relaxing further. “So, how did you and Dean meet?” Anything to steer the conversation away from his mother.
Caster chuckled. “He tried to kill me. I tried to kill him. It was clear no one would win that fight. Mutually assured destruction, it was.”
Mark laughed. That’s not how his brother tells the story. “You fought off Dean in wolf-form? You have to tell me how you did that.”
“Your brother in wolf-form is terrifying.” He paused, his eyes narrowing even as his smile remained. “I will deny that with everything I have.”
Mark’s laughter was uncontainable as the comfort of the moment dragged on.
“But I am stronger than I look.” Caster reached for his hair, a touch Mark had missed. “I really do love it when you laugh.” He drew closer, the gentle touches bringing the simmering desire to a slow boil. “Of course, you are just as strong as your brother, aren’t you?”
Mark couldn’t contain the moan even as he nodded his reply.
“You were magnificent with Bastian. And the efficient way you dispatched that vampire?” His voice dropped to a reverent whisper. “I’d love to see you in a proper fight.”
“You’re making it hard for me to think, again.”
“Yeah?”