Chapter 13
SEBASTIAN
I should have pulled out the moment I heard the condom pop like an overstuffed balloon, but my cock had other ideas. It kept swelling. And swelling. I worried my skin would burst the same way the condom did.
Gunnar and I were stuck together. I rolled onto my side, dragging him with me, his ass still flush against my hips.
"What's going on?" he asked. "Does this always happen?"
"Never."
He rolled his hips from side to side and groaned. "Why does it still feel so good? My cock is still hard." He whined like feeling good was a bad thing.
I kissed and licked the back of his neck, where his delicious scent was strongest. He tasted like sunflowers and sage. It should have clashed with the scent of fresh cinnamon rolls still wafting to me from the table where we'd left them. Instead, I found it, and him, irresistible.
My wolf wanted to bite him. Gently, I sank my blunt teeth into the meaty flesh of his shoulder, and he bucked against me.
"Claim," he whispered.
"Claim," my wolf answered. "Bite. Claim."
My wolf wanted me to shift and bite Gunnar with his sharp teeth.
"No," I said aloud, more to stop the voices from echoing in my head. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I don't think you could," he said. "I've never been this turned on. I already came three times today, but I think I could go again." He turned his head to meet my gaze. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped from his hair. "Fuck me, Sebastian. You're already squeezing my prostate so hard."
It sounded painful, but from the way his eyes hooded when he rocked himself on the bulge inside him, he enjoyed it. So did I. His slight movements sparked pleasure through every nerve ending in my body. I'd just come, too, but I could come again if he kept rocking like that.
Still, I couldn't continue without reassuring him.
"I haven't been with anyone since … " It was hard to remember the last time I'd had sex, especially with Gunnar grinding against me and making feral noises.
"The Christmas party last year," I remembered.
"I've been tested since then, so the condom … "
"I had a hookup the night before we boarded the cruise," he said. "We used condoms, though."
My wolf howled with jealousy. It took every ounce of willpower not to howl with him. Gunnar and I had been adversaries at best. I had no claim on him then.
My wolf seemed to think I did now. He found his way to the surface of my consciousness. My jaw ached as my teeth elongated. Before I could second-guess or stop him, I bit into the thin skin where Gunnar's shoulder connected to his neck.
He squirmed and cried out, but it didn't sound like pain. I palmed his cock and found it warm and sticky with another round of cum.
"What are you doing to me?" he asked. "That feels amazing."
Oh, fuck. I bit him. My face returned to normal like it had never happened, but the blood dripping from the wound said otherwise.
I licked his already healed shoulder and then stared at it in disbelief.
Jagged teeth marks indicated where I'd broken the skin, but they were already scarred over, like I'd done it months ago.
"Sebastian?"
"Hmm?"
"Why do I hear your wolf's voice in my head?"
For once, I couldn't. "What's he saying?"
"He says I need to bite you now."
My cock was still swollen. It would stretch Gunnar's hole to the limit if I tried to pull out. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"How long will this thing last?" he asked.
"What does the wolf say?"
"He has no concept of time. He keeps saying the same thing. Claim."
"We don't know what this means," I reminded him. "What if it's something important?" I'd done my research after the first time I'd shifted. Wolves mated for life. Did this mean Gunnar was mine forever? I wanted that, but what if he didn't?
He wiggled his hips and moaned. "Still feels so good," he said.
"If you keep doing that, I'm going to come again." My voice sounded more like a growl.
Gunnar seemed to take my words as a challenge.
He rolled his hips, jamming me even deeper into his tight heat.
Obscene squelching sounds filled the air, and his scent of sunflowers, sage, and musk transported me to another time and place, one where we were safe to fuck and frolic in the forest around Chernobyl.
I wrapped my fingers around his cock, giving him a hole to fuck. I needed to feel his channel squeeze around me again to push me over the edge.
He groaned. "It's not enough. Bite me again."
My wolf hadn't returned to my mind, and I was grateful. I bit down on the mark with human teeth, and Gunnar bucked against me. His cock jerked in my hand, and a dribble of cum ran over my fingers.
His channel squeezed around me, choking the orgasm from my swollen cock. I filled him with shot after shot of my cum. Even then, the bulge didn't subside.
Gunnar tried to curl away from me, but I pulled him to my chest and rested his head on my arm. "Shh. It'll go down soon." I hoped.
"So tired." The words seemed too big for his mouth. "Need to bite you." He held me down and twisted in my arms. He met my gaze with desperation, and I nodded my consent. His face elongated around his mouth, giving him just enough reach to bite down on my shoulder.
Immediately, his mouth shrank back to human, and he slumped against me. A moment later, I heard the first of his delicate snores.
I palmed my bloody neck, but my mark was like his, already healed over, though sensitive to touch.
"Marked. Claimed. Mates." My wolf had returned, calmer now.
Gunnar hummed as he dreamed. I sensed his wolf in my mind, though he was asleep, too. My wolf took pride in Gunnar's contented rest. "We did that."
My cock shrank enough to slip out, pulling the slimy destroyed condom with it. I missed Gunnar's warmth, but finally, it was over.
My wolf yipped with what sounded like laughter. From the visions of cinnamon rolls, water bottles, and room service menus he sent me, we had just begun.
We fucked nonstop for three days. By the end of the third day, I was surprised I could still touch my cock without screaming.
I should have been chafed beyond recognition, but Gunnar's body was made for me.
His natural lubricant kept us both happy, even when it felt like we were going through the motions in a delirious sex dream.
Instead of texting me mealtimes and menus, Bettina left meal carts in the hallway for us. She didn't even knock on the door, probably too embarrassed by the sounds from the other side.
When it happened, I hadn't thought about it much, but now, her actions were completely uncharacteristic.
She'd chided me once for calling for room service one morning when I was hungover.
Bringing food to two guys who couldn't keep their hands off each other long enough to take a shower for three days … she deserved a medal, or sainthood.
Gunnar had lain with his back to me, but he whined in his sleep and flipped over onto his other side, his hand seeking along the sheets until he found my hip. He tugged my thighs apart and curled against me, resting his head on my shoulder. His cool breath pebbled my skin.
I brushed his hair back from his forehead and noticed it was dry. He felt cooler, too. No more of the unnatural heat that had been riding him.
I kissed his forehead, and he grinned.
"Morning, sunshine," I said.
"Stop talking to yourself," he grumbled. "I am the darkness."
His breath was rank, but so was my armpit, where he buried his nose when I kissed his forehead again.
"We need a shower, and then we can make a trip to the kitchen to see if Bettina has any more of those cinnamon rolls.
" What I really wanted was an explanation.
She seemed to know what was going on with us more than we did.
Still, I didn't smell any delicious food waiting for us in the hall this time.
Whatever had sparked the unsolicited room service was over now.
"She must hate me," he said. "We've been at it for three days."
"Why would she hate you?"
He raised his head from my shoulder to give me the full brunt of his glare. "She sent me to bed because I was sick, not horny!"
"I'm pretty sure it was both." His entire face pinched into a squint, but I kept going. "You were so horny, you were sick. Or something."
He huffed a breath, stirring his bangs from his forehead. "So what, your magical dick cured me?"
I grinned at him until he broke eye contact, rolled off his side of the bed, and dropped to the floor. "Oh, fuck, my legs are sore."
My thighs, hips, and quads ached, too. Every muscle in my back protested when I sat up, and a few joints popped when I stood.
Gunnar was on his feet and headed toward the bathroom. I blocked his way around the bed, and he glared up at me.
"What?"
I cupped his cheek and kissed the tip of his nose. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Trusting me. Whatever triggered this fuckfest, I'm glad I got to spend it with you."
"According to our wolves, you're the dumbass who triggered it."
"How?"
"By being all sexy alpha male and smelling so—" he was close to my armpit again, and when he inhaled, he gave me stink-face a cat would have been proud of. "Shower. Now."
He shoved past me to get to the bathroom. I adjusted the shower's finicky fixtures until the temperature straddled the line between scalding and freezing.
Gunnar slid the other door open and moaned when the stream of water hit his tender muscles. I'd assumed my cock would be satisfied for days, or at least until tonight, but it was already semi-hard when I stepped into the stall behind him.
Unlike the frenzy of the past few days, I felt an overwhelming desire to take care of Gunnar. I showed him how to work the shampoo and soap dispensers when he asked, but then I took over, lathering the shampoo in his hair and turning him back to the spray to rinse it out.
With the soap, I scrubbed my pits first, and then I switched places with him, stealing the water so I could create a foamy masterpiece with his body. Once he was covered, and a little turned on, we switched places again. He rinsed while I got soapy.
Our gazes locked once he finished slicking suds from his feet, and something unspoken passed between us. The past three days had been sex, yes, but it was more than that. We were a team now. Together. Mates.
I thought he felt the same way, but then he frowned and twisted both water fixtures to off.
"I need some air." Before I could respond, he slid the door open and vanished into a cloud of steam.
I heard the sink run a couple times while I was still screwing around with the bubbles, and then a cold draft filled the shower, followed by the sound of the door closing.
It took me even longer to find the right water temperature, thanks to the soap still clinging to my fingers. Finally, I rinsed and toweled off, brushed my teeth as fast as I could, and darted back into the bedroom.
Gunnar sat on the corner of the bed, his towel still wrapped around his waist. "Do we need to go back to the other room for our clothes?"
"For now."
He nodded. "Are we staying there, or here?"
"It's up to you."
He curled over his knees with both hands on his forehead. "Do I have to decide right now?"
"No." I ventured a step closer so I could rub my fingers through the stubble at the back of his neck. "Breakfast will help."
He sat up, dropping his arms to his sides. He groaned when he tried to stand, so I helped him the rest of the way up with an arm around his waist.
"Thanks," he muttered, but as soon as he was on his feet, he pushed me away and beat me to the door.
The shower helped with my stiff muscles, but I couldn't wear anything constricting. Once we were back in our original room, I pulled on a pair of boxers, gray sweatpants, and a black long-sleeved waffle-knit thermal shirt.
Gunnar rolled his eyes at my selections, but he chose similar clothes from his side of the dresser. His sweatpants were black, and his thermal shirt was a brick red that brought out the gold in his hazel eyes. He was stunning, but every time he caught me staring, he frowned at me.
Bettina stood at the kitchen counter with her back to us when we arrived, but her quick actions to set the bistro table with plates warm from the oven and already-poured glasses of milk and orange juice told me she wasn't surprised to see us.
She stunned me when she smiled, first at Gunnar, and then at me. "Do you know why I took this job?" she asked.
I shook my head, and Gunnar's gaze bounced from me to her like he was watching a tennis match.
"I didn't either," she admitted. "It was something in your scent. You remind me of the old ones, the ulvschalters. It's very weak now in our blood, but my people remember."
"You know what happened to me?" Gunnar asked. "Did I go into … rut … or something?"
"Your mating cycle, yes. Nothing will come of it, since you're both men, but my great-grandpapa said it was still fun to try."
"You've known other … shifters?" I couldn't wrap my mind around it. If Dad knew there were more like us, he would have been rounding them up into research facilities.
"The blood is very thin now. None have shifted in three generations." She pointed to her nose. "I can smell better than most humans, but it's not a superpower. Imagine if Wonder Woman went around sniffing everything." She rolled her eyes, and I laughed.
"My family was the last to stay in the mountains," she said. "I thought we were the last on earth until I met you, and now your friend." She gave Gunnar another warm smile, and he blushed.
I was too shocked to eat the food on my plate. If Bettina's family had been wolf shifters, that meant someone in my family line, and Gunnar's, were probably shifters, too. How many were there in the world? And how soon before my father tried his experiments on them?