Chapter 55 Warren
WARREN
Warren woke up to the feeling of Max nuzzling his neck in his sleep, the alpha’s thick arm draped over his chest and hugging him tight into a meaty pair of pecs. In front of him, sitting upright and scrolling on his phone, was Marcus.
Seeing that he was awake, Marcus put down his phone and smiled at him.
“Good morning.”
Warren stayed perfectly still. After the pounding he’d taken the night before, he knew that the second he moved a muscle, his hole would be on fire and his muscles would ache like he’d done a full bodybuilding workout with no warmup.
He’d been okay during dinner, but as they were getting into bed and the endorphins had started to wear off, his body had warned him of the misery he would face in the morning.
The best strategy was to bask in the warmth of Max’s body and wait to move until he absolutely had to.
“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice groggy.
“How are you feeling?” Marcus asked, reaching down and stroking his hair. The sensation of strong fingers brushing over his scalp made Warren’s stomach flutter.
He enjoyed the sensation for a few seconds and then took stock. He carefully shifted, eliciting a grunt of complaint from Max, who snuggled closer, and braced himself for the consequences of the night before.
To his surprise, there were none. His hole didn’t ache, his muscles were fine, and when he pulled out of Max’s embrace and sat up, there wasn’t so much as a twinge of pain.
“I feel fine,” he said, in disbelief.
“Not too sore?” Marcus asked, squeezing his neck and massaging him.
Warren shook his head. “Not even a little.”
“Well, that’s good.” Marcus leaned over and kissed his cheek, and then grabbed him and lifted him into the space between his legs.
Warren let out a squeak of surprise at the sudden manhandling.
“We didn’t exactly take it easy on you last night,” Marcus said, resting his chin on Warren’s shoulder and hugging him to his chest.
He didn’t sound the least bit sorry.
Warren leaned back into Marcus’s embrace and pulled the duvet up over his lap. The bedroom was freezing cold, a fact he was only just noticing, and when he looked over and saw the open window, he understood why.
“Are you cold?” Marcus asked, hugging him tighter.
Warren shook his head. It was impossible to be cold with a werewolf space heater practically enveloping you.
“Any complaints at all?” Marcus asked, his stubble tickling Warren’s naked shoulder as he rubbed his jaw back and forth over his naked skin.
“Nope,” Warren said, completely truthful.
It occurred to him that he maybe should be more traumatized by what had happened to him in Florida, but thinking back on it, all he could focus on was Marcus barging into the bathroom he’d been locked in, in all his alpha glory, and rescuing him.
Thinking about Marcus all geared up like some kind of super soldier, looking competent and dangerous, made Warren’s gut clench and his balls twitch.
He remembered what it had felt like when Marcus picked him up and crushed him into his front – how the tactical vest had dug into his front and how Marcus’s gloved hands had gripped him tight – and his cock hardened.
Marcus, blessedly, didn’t notice.
Needing a distraction, Warren leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed his phone.
He had several messages from his sister – she’d been served breakfast in her room by Marcus’s minions and had talked to them and agreed to be flown back home later in the afternoon – as well as a message from Josh asking if he was enjoying Disney World.
Warren texted Josh back to update him, giving him a redacted version of events and assuring him that he was fine.
Josh tried to call him within a few seconds of getting the messages, but Warren didn’t answer.
He didn’t want Max and Marcus to hear whatever wild thing could potentially come out of his best friend’s mouth.
The last thing he wanted was to have his mates listen to Josh offer to have his New York detective uncle come rescue him.
Of course, Josh immediately foiled that wish by making the offer in writing so that Marcus, who Warren had thought was busy on his own phone, could read it over his shoulder.
Marcus chuckled. “Do you need rescuing?” he asked, tightening his hold on Warren’s chest and sliding a hand down between his legs. “Do you need saving from the big, bad alphas?”
Warren’s stomach swooped at the playful dominance in Marcus’s voice.
“No, I think I’m all set,” he said, squirming when Marcus palmed his erection and brushed the pad of his thumb over the head of his cock.
“Maybe you should tell your friend that,” Marcus said.
“Tell his friend what?” Max asked, waking up and looking groggy. He pushed himself up and stretched, and Warren was distracted by the movement of his hairy pecs and briefly exposed armpits that he completely lost his train of thought.
Max, blinking at him, broke into a wolfish grin.
“Good morning,” he said, shifting a little closer. “See something you like?”
He flexed his arm, pushing his bicep obnoxiously into Warren’s face and making the muscle pop.
It had no right being as hot as it was.
“Maybe,” Warren hedged, completely forgetting about Josh.
“Yeah?” Max asked, pushing his bicep into Warren’s face and dragging it back and forth across his mouth and nose. “Come on, kiss it. Show me how much you like my muscles.”
Warren moaned. He couldn’t believe that Max could just do things like this – say things like that – without dying of embarrassment.
He could never.
He could, however, enjoy it when Max did it.
Tentatively and feeling very self-conscious, Warren kissed Max’s bicep. After a few modest kisses, Warren parted his lips and started using his tongue.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Max said, moving even closer. “Get in there.”
Max rotated his arm, letting Warren kiss down his bicep toward his triceps.
Marcus, meanwhile, relaxed back and let his hands come to rest on Warren's waist. He rubbed his thumbs in small circles over the line of Warren’s ribs.
“Lift your arm,” he commanded after a while.
“Why?” Max asked, though he obeyed instantly. Warren stared at the exposed pit just inches from his face. The scent of Max’s musk, spicy and delicious, filled his nose.
Instead of answering, Marcus grabbed Warren by the back of his head and guided his face into Max’s armpit.
“That’s why,” Marcus said, his hand on the back of Warren’s head keeping him in place.
Max barked out a laugh, lowering his arm and trapping Warren in the heat of his pit. He leaned down and kissed the top of his head.
“Is this what you wanted, baby?”
Warren made a muffled sound that was unequivocally a yes.
“Good boy.”
Max held Warren in place under his arm for a few beats before letting him go. His movements were fast and jerky, like there was so much energy in his body he didn’t know what to do with it.
Before Warren could brace himself, Max had grabbed him out from between Marcus’s legs, tossed the duvet aside and flipped him over, and laid him down flat on the mattress with his face nestled between Marcus’s inner thighs.
The scent of Marcus’s cock and balls just inches from his face was even more potent than Max’s armpit had been. Warren found himself unconsciously scooting up the mattress, seeking to bury himself in his alpha’s taint.
Meanwhile, Max settled himself between Warren’s legs, lying down on his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows.
“I fucking love your butt,” he said, pulling Warren’s cheeks apart and licking a wet stripe across his hole. “It’s so cute and fuckable.”
Warren flinched at the loud sound of Max spitting, a big glob of liquid landing right over his hole and sliding down. Before it could keep moving, Max caught it with two fingers and pushed into his ass.
The stretch was intense. Warren clamped down instinctively, his thighs tensing and his abs going tight as his body resisted the sudden invasion.
“You’re so tight,” Max said, spitting again and scissoring his fingers.
Warren pushed his face into Marcus’s thigh and grit his teeth. Max was jabbing his prostate, and while it felt good, the fast stretch was still painful.
“Be careful,” Marcus warned, stroking Warren’s hair.
Warren looked up, his breath catching at the sight of Marcus’s cock rising up in front of him, huge and hard and leaking.
He wanted to suck it.
“I am,” Max said, adding a third finger the second Warren stopped clenching.
“You’re not!” Warren complained, the added stretch of a third finger making his ass feel like it was on fire.
“Do you want me to stop?” Max asked, his hand completely still while he waited for an answer.
Warren waited a beat before answering.
“No.”
Max withdrew one finger and went back to two, though he did scissor them wider than before.
“I want to suck your cock,” Warren said, looking up at Marcus.
Marcus grinned down at him and scooted back a little so that he could push his cock down toward Warren’s lips.
“Anything else?” Marcus asked, tracing the tip of his leaking cock over Warren’s mouth.
Warren was suddenly struck by a want. It almost bubbled out of him, but he bit it back at the last second.
Both Max and Marcus noticed.
“What?” Marcus asked, his thumb brushing over Warren's lips next to his cock and pushing into the corner of his mouth.
“Tell us,” Max demanded, finding his prostate again and giving it a firm rub.
Warren lowered his face into the mattress, hiding and embarrassed, and mumbled, “Alpha shift.”
Marcus grabbed his hair and pulled his face up, bending his neck back and forcing him to make eye contact.
“What was that?”
Warren wondered if Marcus consciously made his voice that rumbly and dominant, or if it just happened. Either way, it was hot as fuck.
“I was wondering, if maybe you could…” Warren swallowed, his face burning from embarrassment. “Be in your alpha shift.”