Treat or…Treat #2
Now Wolfe lined himself up, pressing in with determination. Eric’s body welcomed it just as it should, sucking him in with a perfect, tight squeeze.
Eric groaned. “Oh fuck.”
“Yes, I know.” Wolfe continued to caress Eric’s back, his hips, his beautiful, sturdy thighs. He withdrew and slid in again in a slow, steady glide, clenching his teeth against the torturous pleasure. “Is this what you needed, pet?”
Eric moaned again, the perfect, wanton creature. “Yes. Yes.”
“Good.” Wolfe tangled his fingers in Eric’s wet strands, pulling his head back. Not in a punishing grip, exactly, but with enough force to have Eric’s spine arching beautifully. “No more talk of families. No mentions of other, imagined lives.”
Eric let out a low, strangled laugh. “You started it.”
“And I’m ending it.” Wolfe gave Eric’s head a gentle shake. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. You always will be mine. There’s no alternative for you.”
“Good.” Eric pushed back, grinding his ass against Wolfe’s hips. “Then fuck me like you promised.”
Wolfe did as his mate commanded. The bathwater roiled and splashed around them, no doubt making a horrific mess. But Wolfe couldn’t be bothered to restrain himself. He fucked into Eric with all the savagery Eric claimed he didn’t possess, encouraged by Eric’s keening wails.
Wolfe had been goaded into it. By his own mind, perhaps, but Eric was still to blame in the end. It was he who’d opened Wolfe up to all these…feelings.
So Wolfe would take his due, wouldn’t he?
He wrapped his arms around Eric’s chest, pulling his mate back into him, and let the change take over. He bit into Eric’s perfect neck with sharp fangs, drinking hungrily as Eric cried out his ecstasy, spurting against the tile without so much as a finger against his cock.
Wolfe growled, slamming into him again and again, chasing the high only his mate could give, that ascension that left Wolfe’s hips stuttering as he filled Eric up with everything he possessed.
Only when he was drained and spent, every drop sucked into Eric’s greedy channel, did Wolfe sink back into the tub, pulling Eric’s limp form down with him.
Eric let out a small noise of contentment, rolling his head back against Wolfe’s shoulder. “Mm. We should add more hot water. Stay like this for a while.”
Wolfe pressed a kiss to Eric’s damp shoulder. All was easy once again. There was no more unnecessary turmoil, no wistfulness to untangle. Only Eric’s warm, wet body plastered to his. “Yes, my darling.”
“Do you feel better?”
“Mm.”
“We need to make sure Roofus doesn’t get into the candy.”
“Who, pray tell, is Roofus?”
“The dog we’ve been fostering for the past two weeks.”
“Ah, yes,” Wolfe murmured, feeling magnanimous with the world once again. “We’ll be diligent.”
It would ruin Eric’s Halloween were the mutt to fall ill. Wolfe wouldn’t allow it.
He supposed he had learned to share Eric, in his own small ways. Foster animals. The wretched den. Video calls wherein that aggravating child Riley demanded to see Wolfe’s better half.
Yes. Magnanimous was the word. A most magnanimous mate was he. There was no cause to worry. Eric should be only grateful for Wolfe’s possession.
“You’re thinking psycho thoughts back there, aren’t you?”
Wolfe pressed a kiss to Eric’s wet hair this time. “Hush, pet. Enjoy your bath.”
Eric
Eric shook the bowl at the pair of ferocious miniature dinosaurs, encouraging them to take their second handfuls of candy. They accepted gleefully, shouting to their waiting parents about their haul as they ran off the porch.
Eric shut the front door with a smile, ignoring Wolfe’s answering glower.
It wasn’t a real one anyway. Wolfe was putting on a show of annoyance, but he’d also been haughtily ranking all the costumes they’d seen in both originality and execution, so he couldn’t be too put out.
Not like yesterday.
It was funny, the things Wolfe got himself worked up over. His personality wasn’t neurotic by any stretch of the imagination, but Eric seemed to bring it out of him sometimes. For someone who usually knew Eric better than Eric knew himself, he could go way off base every now and then.
It always ended in hot sex, though, so it was hard to complain.
Fucking Eric in the bath had certainly seemed to help things, but Wolfe had still followed Eric down to his den and sat him on his lap afterward, insisting Eric warm his cock as he pored over various financial documents.
Eric was pretty sure Wolfe had only been pretending to read them.
Possessive bastard.
Not that Eric hadn’t enjoyed himself.
Now Eric followed Wolfe to the living room, where an old Vincent Price movie was playing, two glasses of mulled wine waiting for them on the coffee table.
Eric hoped more kids would come—the little costumes were so fucking cute—but he’d be content even if they’d seen the last of the trick-or-treaters for the evening.
He still didn’t know what Wolfe could have been worried about. So Wolfe hadn’t given Eric kids of his own. So what? They’d never been a certainty on Eric’s agenda, and in all honesty they wouldn’t fit with the strange, kinky existence he and Wolfe had created for themselves.
Eric hadn’t been upset about a lack of children yesterday, when he’d been rambling to Wolfe over bags of candy. He’d just been feeling a little sorry for the boy he’d been, and the fact that his shitty parents wouldn’t let him hoard candy like the rest of his friends.
His ridiculous psychopath had gone all nuts for nothing.
Especially since what Wolfe had given Eric was very real and very needed.
He’d given Eric a home.
A real home. One where he felt safe and secure, one where he didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than who and what he was.
And yeah, one where he occasionally got revenge-fucked in the bathtub for no reason. But everyone had their quirks, right?
Eric pressed a kiss to Wolfe’s mouth, where the scowl had already softened in the glow of Eric’s contentment. “Happy Halloween, babe.”