Chapter 7 Warren #3
Harland glanced down at Warren. “I’ll have someone drive you home.” He reached out and squeezed Warren’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about this. Of course, you are free to associate with whoever you wish. I’ll keep Max from overreacting again.”
“What?” Max cried, reaching for Warren like he was going to grab him again, stopping when Harland shot him a sharp look.
“Max, you are not an animal. Control yourself.”
“I’m trying!” Max cried, anguished and dramatic.
Yet again, Harland moved too fast for Warren to see. One second the vampire was in front of him, and the next he was in the living room, grabbing Max by the scruff of his neck and pinning him to the floor.
Max closed his eyes, his body relaxing and going limp under Harland’s hold.
“I’ve got this,” Harland said, calm and confident. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Warren found himself just as comforted by the words as Max seemed to be.
“I want to bite him.” Max spoke the words as though they were a confession. He looked up at Harland with a pleading expression. “Can I?”
“No.” Harland’s voice was firm. “Go upstairs and wait for me in your bedroom.”
Harland rose to his feet, keeping his grip on Max’s neck and marching him over to the door.
“Call a car for Warren and take a shower. I’ll be up soon.”
“Fine,” Max grumbled. He turned around with a final, longing look in Warren’s direction and trudged up the stairs. Harland closed the door and turned around.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, crossing the room. The sight of him in his tight leather suit was just as intimidating now as it had been the first time they met. It clung to his muscular frame, hugging his wide chest and thick thighs, and the gloves made his hands look absolutely enormous.
Did he not own any other outfits?
“Is he going to be okay?” Warren asked.
“He’ll be fine.” Harland stopped a few feet away and crossed his arms. It made his biceps bulge against the sleeves of his racing suit. “Did he tell you that he was raised by humans?”
Warren nodded.
“Well, it messed up his socialization. He doesn’t know how to behave with other werewolves. A competitor laying a claim on you shouldn’t have sent him into such a spiral. I’ll talk him through his feelings and get him to calm down.”
“Is this a big deal?” Warren reached up and touched the bite mark on his neck. It had scarred over, and Warren was more than a little annoyed at Marcus for putting such a visible and lasting mark on him.
“Yes.”
Harland didn’t elaborate. Instead, he uncrossed his arms and closed the distance between them, subtly invading Warren’s space and grazing his fingers over Warren’s neck.
The sensation of cool leather stroking over his skin made Warren freeze.
He held his breath as Harland examined his throat, tracing Marcus’s bite.
“What’s with the suit?” he asked, trying to distract himself from the fact that Harland’s closeness and gentle touch was making him harder than a rock.
He was dating Marcus. It might just have been one date, but it counted. He wouldn’t do anything with anyone else until that was over.
“It’s to protect me against the sun if I need to leave in a hurry. I don’t want to have to waste time getting dressed.”
“Oh.”
That made sense, Warren supposed. The suit was made from sturdy leather, covering Harland from the top of his neck and all the way down to his boots, and with the helmet, not an inch of skin was visible.
He should have known that Harland was being utilitarian and not engaging in some kind of fetish thing.
It was still very, very hot.
“Since you’re here anyway, would you like me to feed a day early?” Harland slid his hand down to Warren’s shoulder, fingers curling down and giving it a gentle squeeze. “That way you don’t have to make another trip all the way out here tomorrow.”
It took Warren a second to register what Harland was actually suggesting, he was so distracted from the feeling of his hand on him.
“Oh, sure,” Warren said, appreciating the offer. That would free up his Saturday for studying and hanging out with Josh. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.” Harland led Warren over to the fireplace and took a seat on the couch.
He made himself comfortable, spreading his legs and leaning back, before pulling Warren down to sit next to him.
He draped his arm across the back of Warren’s shoulders, curling it slightly so that Warren’s neck came to rest in the crook of his elbow, and took a gentle hold of his jaw. “Lean back for me.”
Warren felt enveloped. He wondered if Harland was wearing a cologne. He smelled really good. Musky and woodsy, the scent mingled with the smell of his leather suit, making Warren's mouth water.
“Okay,” Warren said, his heart fluttering at the touch of Harland’s gloved fingers on his chin. He angled his neck back, realizing with a start that he was exposing the mark that Marcus had left on his neck. He licked his lips. “You can do the other side, if the bite mark bothers you.”
“It doesn’t,” Harland said, placing his mouth on Warren’s throat. He licked across Warren’s jugular, next to Marcus’s mark, the wet feeling of his tongue making Warren shudder.
“Is that necessary?” Warren asked, his voice cracking as Harland scraped his teeth over his skin.
He would definitely come in his pants if Harland kept this up.
Harland sucked some of Warren’s skin between his teeth and licked it. “What?”
“I’m not really the kind of guy who sleeps around.” Warren tried to stay composed and sound unaffected. “I would appreciate it if we could keep this professional.”
Harland paused, letting go of Warren’s throat and stroking his cheek.
“Are you sure?”
Warren wished that Harland didn’t have such a blank expression. It made it so hard to know what he was thinking.
“Yes,” Warren said, putting his hands over his lap to hide his bulge. “I’m sure.”
“Let me know if that changes.”
“I will-”
Warren jerked as Harland bit into his neck, a brief flash of pain that was quickly replaced by rapturous pleasure.
He’d forgotten how good Harland made it feel.
Harland released his hold on Warren’s jaw, his hand sliding down his front over his shirt and coming to rest over Warren’s chest. His fingertips, big and blunt and still covered up in those bulky motorcycle racing gloves, framed Warren's nipple through the layers of his shirt and wool underwear as though he were about to pinch.
Warren braced himself, annoyed at the coming disregard for his boundaries and anticipating it in equal measure.
The tension built, Warren’s cock throbbing.
There was no pinch.
Warren squirmed, his balls pulling tight in anticipation, the placement of Harland’s fingers making him long for the sharp pain of a quick squeeze.
“Can you-” Warren clenched his jaw, halting the question before it could make its way out of his mouth.
He wasn’t going to be the one to break.
“Can I what?” Harland asked, releasing Warren’s throat from his teeth and licking over the wound. He was so big, his muscular leather-clad form looming over Warren, and the weight of his presence was making Warren feel dizzy.
“Nothing.”
“All right.”
Harland dove back into Warren’s neck, the sharp pain there and gone in an instant, his hand shifting so that the pad of his index finger dragged over Warren’s nipple. Even through his winter layers, the friction was enough for Warren to feel like there was a wire connecting his nipple to his balls.
When Harland failed to repeat the movement, his hand coming to rest right beneath Warren’s pecs, Warren couldn’t help himself.
“Can you pinch my nipple?”
The question burst from his mouth before he could stop himself.
Harland withdrew his teeth, his fingers finding Warren’s nipple through his shirt and giving it a pinch.
“I thought you wanted to keep this professional?”
“I do,” Warren insisted. Harland kept playing with his nipple through his shirt, pinching and rubbing it and making him feel so good that it almost hurt. “I just…”
“It’s okay.” Harland lifted his hand. “Did you promise the guy who claimed you that you would be monogamous?”
Warren shook his head, and then his whole body jerked in shock when Harland reached down and shoved his hand under all the layers of his clothes and found his nipple directly.
Big, blunt fingers pinched down, and Warren let out a cry as the sharp pain pushed him over the edge and made him come.
Harland kept pinching his nipple, rolling it between his fingers and stroking Warren’s chest with his gloved hand.
Warren couldn’t believe how good it felt.
“Well, did he?” Harland sounded patient and not at all like he was making Warren come just from playing with his chest.
“No,” Warren admitted. “But I-”
“Why don’t you give me a chance?” Harland asked, his hand moving from Warren’s chest and down into his pants. He found Warren’s cock, his massive hand wrapping around it and squeezing down.
Warren’s hips jerked, his butt lifting off the seat of the couch at the overstimulation to his sensitive cock.
“You’ve seen what Max has to offer, and this new alpha. Shouldn’t you give me a chance, too? You wouldn’t want to miss out.”
That was… not really how that worked, Warren thought, but with Harland touching him – surrounding him and enveloping him – it was difficult to articulate an argument.
Warren wasn’t sure he wanted to articulate an argument.
“Maybe,” he hedged.
Warren had stopped coming, his balls relaxing and his gut unclenching, but there was no post-nut clarity.
He still wanted Harland to pin him down and fuck him into the floor.
“Say yes.”
Harland grabbed the back of Warren’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. His tongue explored Warren’s mouth, slowly and thoroughly, before he pulled away to give Warren a chance to answer.