Chapter 2
A tremble traveled from Ezra into Rourke, and he felt like an utter ass. He was the one who'd demanded a mate from the witch clan. This was his doing.
He guided Ezra through the pack house and squished the embarrassment wanting to well up inside at the state it was in. As soon as peace was ensured, they could use their money to renovate their home.
"Through here." His room was farthest away from the dining hall. He was one of few who had a kitchenette, the rest had to share, using the big kitchen next to the dining hall. It was wasted on him, though. He never cooked, but it was nice to have the space.
He pushed open the door and ushered Ezra into the one-room apartment. It wasn't big, but it was the best the pack had, and he refused to be self-conscious about it. Once they had more money, they'd upgrade.
Ezra looked around, his gaze bouncing before landing on the bed, and then quickly moving to the floor.
"Come on. Let's get it over with." Rourke looked at him, for real this time, not only to make sure he was seeing a man instead of a woman as he had outside.
He was small, which he'd been prepared for, and he had fewer piercings and braids and stuff than he'd expected, which was a pleasant surprise, but he was still a witch.
"How...eh..." His voice died away, and Rourke took a careful breath to scent him. Petrified. Great. Would a scared witch combust? What if he panicked and flung a spell at Rourke right in the middle of the act?
"Have you ever been with a man?" Shit, this was too much like a virgin sacrifice for his liking. He liked competent men. Confident. Cocky. Secure in themselves. Ezra looked as if he was afraid of his own shadow.
Maybe it was an act. Had to be, right? He was a witch. He could most likely have Rourke pierced with invisible daggers. Fuck, maybe this had been a stupid idea.
His fear annoyed him. "Pull your pants off, so we can get it over with."
Ezra nodded, undid his black jeans with shaking hands, and pushed them down along with his underwear.
When he reached his shoes he made a muffled sound, as if surprised to see them there.
Toeing them off, he almost lost his balance, and Rourke had a hard time looking away as he danced around in a display of uncoordinated clumsiness. Dear God.
Finally, he got the shoes, socks, and pants off and looked up at Rourke.
"On the bed."
His swallow was audible, and for a few seconds, he stood frozen in place.
"Hey." Rourke reached for him, but he jerked away.
"Sorry." It wasn't more than a whisper, then he scurried up on the bed, ass in the air and elbows resting on the mattress.
Oh fuck, a wave of heat washed over Rourke, not enough to make his dick hard, but damn. The picture he presented wasn't something to scoff at.
He undid his jeans and tugged at his cock, stroking himself until he'd managed to reach half-mast before he neared the bed. He tore off his clothes and snatched a bottle of lube from the nightstand. Ezra didn't move, didn't look at him.
Without speaking he uncapped the bottle and wet his fingers, then he brought them to Ezra's opening only to have him jolt.
"Easy. Relax." He caressed him, added a little pressure, and dipped his fingertip inside. Ezra's entire body tensed.
"No, deep breaths." He caressed his hip. "Once. We only have to do this once."
Ezra nodded but didn't look up from where he had his face hidden against the bedding. Rourke pumped the single digit in and out of him, noted the hot, tight grip, and his cock stirred.
Ezra might be a witch, but he was soft and warm, and it had been a long time since Rourke had gotten laid. The negotiations with the witches had taken weeks.
He lined up a second finger and pushed in. Ezra made a strangled sound and tried to edge away from him. "Hey." Rourke curled the fingers of his free hand around his hip to keep him in place. "I won't hurt you."
He hoped it was a laugh he heard and not a sob, but he wasn't sure.
"I won't. We'll walk out of here unscathed in a few minutes. I only need to get you open enough to take me, and then it'll be over."
A nod. Good, he didn't think he could ask for more. His cock was hard, and he sent a short thank you to the universe. Maybe he should take the pill Ulric had given him to ensure it would stay that way until the deed was done, but he didn't think he'd need it.
He pushed in a third finger.
"Ngh." Ezra clawed at the bedspread, holding on tight to the fabric.
Rourke slid his hand forward around Ezra's hip, praying he was erect, and stuttered in his finger thrusts when he found him flaccid.
Fuck. He cupped him and almost pulled his hand away when metal brushed against his palm.
Damn, was he pierced there too? He slid his fingers along the underside of his cock.
Yup, there was a ladder of barbells along his shaft. Why would anyone do that to themselves?
He pushed in with his fingers again and hooked them to reach Ezra's sweet spot. He jumped.
"Just get it over with." The voice was muffled, and Ezra didn't look at him.
Rourke would've preferred mutual pleasure, but if he didn't want to..."Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He pulled his fingers out, reached for the lube again, and made sure he was nice and slick before taking up position behind Ezra on the bed. He curled one hand around his hip and slowly eased forward.
He hadn't breached him with more than an inch before Ezra screeched and collapsed underneath him.
Rourke had been too focused on being careful to be prepared for any escape attempts.
The move shocked him enough to fall forward, and he pressed his chest against Ezra's back, still partly buried inside of him.
"Shit, sorry." He ran his hand over Ezra's side, trying to soothe him like he would a spooked animal. "The key is to relax."
Ezra didn't speak, and his face was hidden in the bedspread. "Ezra?" He ran his hand over him again. Why hadn't he removed his shirt? Rourke had to bite him, and he didn't want to bite through fabric.
He'd only told him to take off his pants.
"Come on. Deep breaths." Rourke all but buried his nose in his hair. He smelled...good. Huh. He'd never met a witch who didn't smell of rotting death before.
Ezra took a deep breath which helped nothing with the relaxation. Rourke chuckled, and it was so far from how he'd believed this would go.
"I'm sorry, I wish I could bite you and get it over with, but I have to...spill inside of you for the magic to take."
To say Ezra relaxed would be a lie, but his shoulders slumped a little. "Can't you..." He shrugged, and Rourke leaned over him, hoping to see his eyes. He didn't.
"Can't I what?"
"Spill."
Another small chuckle left him. "I'm afraid it's gonna take at least a few thrusts."
When he didn't reply, Rourke cooed. "Come on, look at me."
Ezra tilted his head a fraction and opened his eyes, they were almost black. "Do you want me to try to get you to enjoy it or do you want it over as fast as possible?"
"I don't think I can enjoy it. Sorry."
Fuck, was he straight? It was a cruel fate. "Okay, but I need you to do your best to relax. Don't you know a spell or something? The more you tense, the more uncomfortable it'll be."
He shook his head, and he guessed it was a reply to the spell question. Carefully, Rourke pushed farther in. Ezra's mouth dropped open, but he didn't flinch. For the first time, Rourke wished he'd been smaller. Shifters weren't known to be, and he wasn't small among shifters.
He pulled out a fraction and pushed in again. He repeated the action over and over, burying himself a little deeper with each stroke.
A strangled moan escaped Ezra.
"Okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah, it's...it's okay. A little uncomfortable, but no pain like before."
Shit, Rourke believed he'd done a good job stretching him, but apparently not. He'd do better next time.
The thought made him freeze. There would be no next time. He'd told Ezra he only needed to get through this once.
The tight heat around him had a groan escaping. "You feel good."
Ezra's eyes widened in surprise, and Rourke almost cursed. He had to know he did, right? He thrust again, his hips brushing against Ezra's buttocks this time. Fuck, yeah. He pushed in deeper and moaned. Shivers skidded over him, and his fangs dropped.
"So fucking good." He rested his forehead against Ezra's shoulder and pumped into him, doing whatever he could to speed his climax along.
When Ezra tilted his hips ever so slightly to meet his thrusts, he growled and clutched at him. Damn. "Do you have more shirts?"
"In the car." He ended the statement with a small moan. Rourke reached the neck of the shirt and ripped it to reveal his shoulder. Then he pumped into Ezra faster. The climax was building and building. Pinpricks rushed from the soles of his feet to his balls.
"Fuck yeah." He clutched at Ezra. Wanting deeper, wanting more.
Right as he was about to tip over the edge, he buried his teeth in the meaty part of Ezra's shoulder. He released inside him, and heat rushed through him in a way it never had before only to settle around his heart.
Ezra gasped, and Rourke licked at the wound he'd inflicted. Blood trickled over the pale white skin, but he chased the drops with his tongue until there were no more. The bite would scar, mating bites always did, and a small part of Rourke liked seeing it there.
His bite. His mate.
* * * *
Ezra lay unmoving underneath Flint. A fire burned in his chest, and for a moment he believed he'd suffocate. It was all too much. Flint was inside him, both physically and through the magic binding them together.
"Are you okay?" The words registered as Flint pulled out of Ezra, making him hiss.
"Sorry. I tried to be gentle."
Gentle? Damn, how was he when he wasn't gentle? He hadn't injured him, his weak magic told him as much, and for a moment there right at the end, heat had built inside Ezra. A pleasant heat. It had made him hope Flint would take a little longer before he was done.