Chapter 5 #3
He laughed softly as he continued stroking me.
“You’re learning. Good boy.” Something sharp trailed down my neck.
His teeth, I realized, shivering. Fuck, could he transform those, too?
Rip into my flesh while he made my dick feel like a million dollars?
I wasn’t sure I cared. My heartbeat pounded in my cock as I moaned and thrust into his fist. He released me, spit into his hand, and carried it back to my shaft.
The sound of his wet strokes joined my ragged breaths and the hushed rasp of my jeans shifting around my ankles.
My deep, pleasured groan filled the kitchen.
“You like this, hmm?” he asked, his breath hot against my ear. “If you want me to stop, just say the word.”
I clenched my jaw. Because fuck him if he thought he was stopping before he got me off.
His chuckle vibrated my back. Before it fully registered, something cool dragged over my lips, and I realized I’d squeezed my eyes shut. I opened them to see the apple slice pinched between Jesse’s fingers.
“Open,” he said, his voice back to that low timbre I felt all the way down to my nuts.
The pressure built, and this time I didn’t want to fight it.
I only wanted to make Jesse happy, so I bit into the fruit.
The sweet, crisp taste of apple exploded on my tongue.
More pleasure rushed me—the sense of well-being so intense that I cried out.
Jesse ground his hips into my ass, shoving me harder against the counter as he thrust the rest of the apple slice into my mouth. I chewed obediently, earning his growl of approval.
Nothing had ever tasted so good. Nothing had ever felt so good as Jesse’s body pressing me flat against the counter and his big hand working my shaft more roughly than I handled myself.
But I wanted it. Fuck, I couldn’t get enough of his quick, ruthless strokes.
I shuddered, my cheek hot against the granite as I thrust into his hand.
The fine hairs on my body stood on end. Helpless moans spilled from me as I jerked my hips, trying to grab the orgasm I was chasing. I swallowed and gasped, “Don’t stop.”
He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled me up, my back and bare ass against his chest and groin.
He stopped his strokes, his hand on my dick clamping like a vise.
As I sucked in a sharp breath, he angled my head toward him so our lips were almost touching and his bright yellow eyes bored into mine.
“You don’t give the orders, pup,” he said in a smoky voice.
“If you don’t want me to stop, ask nicely. Let’s hear it.”
I licked my lips, tasting apple. That hot, trembling humiliation twisted through me again.
And once again, something about it drew me.
My chest was sweaty from being pressed against the counter.
I was naked in a near-stranger’s grip, my dick ramrod straight in his damp palm.
Cool air teased my slit, where I knew I was leaking like a faucet.
And I was caught. No matter what I said or did, Jesse van der Meer was going to get his way. And, damn, that fucking did it for me.
“Please,” I breathed, and this time I couldn’t break his stare. But his bright gaze didn’t hurt. No, it held me captive. Enthralled. “Please don’t stop. Please.”
Satisfaction flared in his eyes, and then his lips were on mine.
He licked into my mouth, his kiss aggressive and demanding as he resumed pumping my dick.
His hand moved faster, the fleshy sound of his strokes warring with my desperate whimpers.
I bowed my spine as I thrust my hips shamelessly, my feet spread as wide as I could get them with my jeans tangled around my ankles.
My balls tightened. Only half-aware of what I was doing, I twined an arm up and around his neck, anchoring myself to him as I used my other hand to grip the edge of the counter.
White-hot lust sizzled through my veins.
I was burning up, rushing headlong into a bigger, brighter fire, and all I could think was more, more, more.
“Come on,” Jesse said against my lips. His grip on my dick loosened and then flew faster, jerking me so hard and quick that I couldn’t fucking breathe. But he didn’t let up. “Come for me. I want you dripping from my fingers, college boy. Show me what you look like when you lose it.”
His growled command was like a bomb detonating inside me.
I came on a choked cry, my hips jerking wildly.
My ass cheeks clenched as I spurted all over his hand, coming so hard my vision went wavy at the edges.
I gripped the edge of the counter and held on for dear life as my soul escaped through my dick.
Jesse jerked me a few more times, then held me up as I slumped against him, my sweaty back sticking to his shirt.
Chest heaving, I looked down at my softened cock in his hand.
My cum glistened on his long fingers. A few pearly drops had splattered on the floor.
He kept his hand in place, his fingers curled around my shaft like he owned it.
His thick wrist and the dusting of dark hair on his forearm held my attention like a fireworks display.
“That was hot,” he said.
Jesse van der Meer, Master of Understatement.
He slicked my seed up and down my sensitive dick. It twitched, and I moaned as aftershocks rippled through me. After a few more slow, agonizing strokes, he dropped his hand. “Don’t move.”
“No problem,” I muttered, leaning over the counter. As he moved around the kitchen, reality crashed in and set my thoughts spinning. Had I really just let him jack me off? What the fuck did I do now?
“Here,” he said, appearing beside me and pressing a warm, damp kitchen towel to my groin. He cleaned my dick and balls with gentle swipes, and I let him because it was easier than trying to figure out how I’d let myself make such a stupid mistake.
Except it didn’t feel like a mistake. The warm swipes of the towel felt perfect.
Jesse’s scent in my nostrils and his body heat caressing my cooling skin felt…
right. Something new tugged in my chest. Not pressure, exactly.
It was insistent but gentle, like a current in the water.
And, somehow, I knew that if I heeded its guidance, it would urge me to curl up at Jesse’s feet and sort of… bask in him or something.
“Weird,” I mumbled.
He said nothing, but he obviously heard me as he bent and pulled up my boxer briefs.
“I can do it,” I said, reaching for my waistband, but he batted my hands away.
“You’re underfed and on the verge of shifting. Shut up and let me take care of you.” He tugged my jeans over my hips and buttoned them, then nudged me onto the barstool. This accomplished, he returned to the sink and rinsed the towel.
My cheeks heated as the remnants of my cum disappeared under the spray. “On the verge of shifting?” I asked.
He shut off the tap and wrung out the towel.
Despite everything that had happened over the last twenty or so minutes, he looked as calm and unruffled as ever, each lock of hair in place.
“The first shift is the most important,” he said, “and the most difficult. No one does it alone. Your little stunt in the forest tonight was dangerous for us, but it has a silver lining. As it happens, teaching is my gift. If I hadn’t found you when I did, you would have killed someone or ended up dead yourself. ”
I tensed. “What do you mean?”
He draped the towel over the edge of the sink and gave me a sober look.
“You’re not human anymore, Caleb. There’s a beast inside you, and it wants out.
Worse, it wants to rule you. Mastering it takes time and skill.
You almost lost control with the cyclist, and you were ready to lose control with me just now. ”
“That’s not true,” I said. “I can’t even look you in the eye.”
“Oh, yeah? You weren’t ready to grab a knife and gut me?”
More heat rose under my skin. “You told me to clean my plate.”
He raised a dark brow. “Definitely a stabbing offense.”
“I wouldn’t have stabbed you.” I was pretty sure.
“We can debate that all night long, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re not going to stab me because I’m strong enough to control your wolf until you learn how to do it yourself. It helps that your wolf has chosen to be submissive to mine, but—”
“Wait, what?” My heart sped up. He’d said something like that before, I realized. But I’d been distracted by his hand working my pants open.
His brown eyes were steady. “Your wolf wants mine as a mate. Sometimes, the human side chooses first and the beast follows. But it can happen the other way around. Your wolf didn’t waste any time.
It should be pretty obvious by now, but let me state it plainly: My beast isn’t going to submit to yours, Caleb.
I’m too dominant. Or, to put it a way that might make more sense, my wolf is as much of a top as I am. ”
The sun took up residence in my face. “I’m not—” Jesus, were we really having this conversation? I squeezed the edge of the counter. “I’m not submissive.”
He leaned a hip against the sink and folded his thick arms. “You almost got on all fours to cross my kitchen.”
Oh, fuck him. My face tried to melt into my neck. “That was your voice thing.”
“Which you could have fought. You didn’t want to.”
I opened my mouth. When a brilliant reply failed to emerge, I closed it.
“Your wolf wants to cede control to mine,” he said. “In every way.” He held my stare. “You already know this is true. You’re just annoyed about it.”
He couldn’t be serious. I wasn’t into kinky dominant-submissive shit. Sex was one thing and, yeah, who didn’t like getting their dick worked over by someone who knew what he was doing? But crawling on all fours for him? Turning into a fucking werewolf?
I tried to summon a laugh. When it wouldn’t come, I shook my head. “I don’t want any of this.”