Hagen, Lynn - Maverick's Mate [Brac Pack 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (8 page)

Maverick was on the distant planes of another realm, a realm of sexual bliss. His mate’s rhythm picked up, slamming his ass down harder onto Maverick’s pelvis. The echoing sound of skin slapping rivaled the storm outside.

Maverick let go over Cecil’s hands, digging his fingers into his hips as he plunged up into a tight, sweet sheath. Cecil grabbed Maverick’s forearms, making those cute grunting, whining noises again, louder this time. Oh, fuck, nothing in life felt better than this. A violent storm was raging inside Maverick, feelings and sensations crashing throughout his whole body. The overwhelming surges made a tear fall from his eye, and his canines dropped from the powerful and encompassing feelings.

Cecil dropped to Maverick’s chest, exposing his neck, pushing it at Maverick’s mouth. Maverick struck, locking Cecil in place as his hips rocketed into his ass. Maverick growled and pulled harder at his neck. Cecil cried out, shooting his fluids onto Maverick’s chest. His mate was glorious.

Maverick’s orgasm went beyond this world, and his balls hurt from straining so hard on each eruption. He screamed to the thunder outside, a wail of carnal pleasure. Maverick’s seed was exploding inside his mate’s sheath. Maverick licked at Cecil’s neck, closing the wound. He wrapped his arms around Cecil, squeezing him in a bear hug.

“Holy. Shit.” Maverick panted.

Cecil lay on Maverick’s chest, falling asleep within seconds.

* * * *

It had been a month since Cecil had mated Maverick. He had gotten to know the entire Sentry group pretty well. Cody and Jasper were still his favorites. Maverick’s house had turned from a pool shooting, dart throwing, card playing, and sports watching den to a hip, rock ‘n’ roll, gaming place to be. The warriors forgot they had their own homes to go to. Some came in from patrol and crashed right there on one of two couches in the room.

Cecil had finally won the war of fixing his own food. He still didn’t like Maverick spoiling him with gifts, but that was a fight he didn’t want to repeat.

Ever.

He only asked that Maverick not go overboard, though his mate didn’t listen. He still struggled to maintain his independence. It was hard when he was always escorted by one of the Sentries anywhere he went.

He was out with Tank today. The warrior lived up to his name. He was the size of a Sherman tank. Tank had brown hair that was military cut. His eyes were such a deep brown they were almost black. Cecil had asked how tall he was. Tank was an astounding six foot seven, almost as tall as Maverick. The ginormous male was three hundred and twenty pounds with not an ounce of fat on him.

They were at the recreation center where Cecil had begun to volunteer five hours of his time every Friday. He had thought Maverick would argue with him about it. Surprisingly, he thought it had been a great idea. Tank helped the little kids by lifting them up to shoot baskets or they all tried to climb on him like a jungle gym. Cecil had requested Tank on these weekly trips, knowing the mountain actually had a soft heart for the poverty stricken youths.

There was one adult here that had wrapped himself around Cecil’s heart.

Johnny.

One of the counselors had confided in him that the young man was mildly retarded and always kept to himself when he was at the recreation center. Cecil singled him out when he heard this, wanting the guy to have at least one friend.

It had been a slow process of befriending him at first. Johnny didn’t trust anyone. Cecil would sit with him as Johnny drew pictures or beaded necklaces. He sat quietly, handing him the next colored pencil or shiny bead. One day Johnny had finally spoken to him. “I like the pink ones. It’s my favorite color.”

Since then, Johnny stood by the door on Fridays, waiting anxiously for Cecil’s arrival.

* * * *

Cecil had brought Johnny a gift this week. He had searched every craft store he could. Finally, he found the item he was looking for. Cecil had found the letters of Johnny’s name in imitation pink diamonds. He took them to a jeweler and had tiny holes drilled into the letters, so Johnny could make a necklace of them. Usually the necklaces were donated to the hospital for sick children, but he wanted Johnny to keep this one for himself.

The first day Cecil visited the place, he noticed the crafts were of slim selection. Relating this to Maverick, his mate took it upon himself to contact the local craft store and bought a wide selection in bulk, anonymously donating the purchase to the recreation center. Cecil kept a list of depleted items to be replenished on an as needed bases.

Today he saw Johnny waiting in his usual spot, his blond hair in disarray as he rocked from foot to foot, searching every car that passed for Cecil. He was a stunning young man. Johnny’s eyes were a stormy blue-gray, growing darker when Johnny was unhappy. Cecil had never seen eyes that color before. Cecil didn’t like the malnourished look the guy had. His bones protruded at his wrist. Cecil wondered if the rest of his body was that emaciated, but Johnny always wore long sleeved turtle necks that hung loosely from his frame.

“Cecil!” Johnny spotted him coming from the parking lot. A wide grin spread across Cecil’s face as he approached his friend. The honey blond curls bounced as Johnny jumped up and down.

“I got something for you. You can’t donate this, okay? It’s just for you.” Cecil held up a black velvet pouch, dangling it in front of his friend’s eyes. Johnny grabbed for it, but Cecil made him wait until they were seated at their table. He pushed back all the construction paper as he emptied the bag to reveal his gift.

“It’s pretty pink glass letters.”

Cecil organized the letters until the young man’s name appeared.

“Hey! That’s my name. Johnny.” He pointed to each letter, pronouncing them.

“We can make the necklace, and you can wear it around your neck. I even brought you a special chain to put them on.” Cecil pulled the thin, twenty-four carat chain from the bag. He handed it over and watched as Johnny concentrated on his task. Once he was done, Cecil attached it with the tiny clasp. It lay perfectly at his neck. He took Johnny to the men’s room to show him.

“It’s pretty.” Johnny ran his fingers along the letters, spelling each one again. A wide grin appeared as he swung around to grab Cecil in a big hug. Cecil’s eyes misted as he patted his friend on the back.

“I’ll wear it forever,” Johnny said.

* * * *

Maverick picked up another rubber band from his desk, loaded it onto his finger then shot it across the room. It smacked against the wall then fell into the waste paper basket.

He was so damn bored. Cecil was down at the recreation center, volunteering his time. That left Maverick counting how many paperclips he had in his drawer. Twenty-five.

Maverick reloaded his finger as Hawk walked into his office, his rubber assault smacking into the Commander’s chest.

Hawk quirked a brow.

“You come to me on the day my mate is at the rec center asking a favor?” Maverick did his best impression of the Godfather.

“Are you okay, Maverick?”

Maverick tossed his outstretched arms onto his desk as his head fell between them. “Nope.” His lips popped on the letter
P
. “I want my mate. I’m bored.”

“Why don’t you volunteer with him?”

Maverick lifted his head to stare at Hawk as if he were daft. “Uh, maybe because my size would give those human kids nightmares.”

Maverick sighed as he thought of the strip-tease Cecil had performed for him. His mate may not have been a professional, but Maverick wouldn’t trade that night for all the money in the world. His clumsy moves and teasing eyes had set Maverick’s blood on fire.

“Then I suggest you find a hobby.”

Maverick soured his face up, mimicking Hawk silently. He knew he was acting childish, but since he mated Cecil, life had been exciting, almost as if the little man had breathed life into stale lungs. Now, when his mate wasn’t around, Maverick was lost.

Tossing his pile of rubber missiles back into his desk drawer, Maverick stretched as he stood. Alpha Jackson of the Eastern pack had been dormant lately. Not even his peanut gallery he called a pack was stirring up trouble, so there was nothing to do.

Nothing at all.

As Maverick walked from his office, he was attacked by rubber missiles to his back. He smiled, knowing Hawk finally had a sense of humor. The man was more serious than an undertaker. As solemn as one, too.

Maybe he would take a ride on his motorcycle. The air was chilly but not so much that he couldn’t enjoy it with his thick leather on. Besides, shifters’ body heat ran a little higher than humans, so his skin could take it.

Grabbing his leather and helmet from his bedroom, Maverick headed outside.

Chapter Eight

Maverick smiled as Cecil opened wide for another bite. Fuck, if his mate wasn’t sexy with those amethyst eyes of his. Plucking another grape from the bowl, Maverick slid it across his mate’s bottom lip.

“Open wide, baby.”

Cecil complied, flicking his tongue across the thin skin of the fruit. Maverick moaned. Unable to resist, he pulled the fruit away and replaced it with his tongue.

Maverick pushed the bowl aside as he rolled to hover over his mate. They were lying in their bed, enjoying a lazy Sunday morning.

His cock twitched when his mate sucked his tongue in, giggling as he gave him sloppy kisses. Cecil wasn’t the same man he met a month ago. His mate no longer flinched when one of the warriors yelled or Maverick became upset. This was a good sign.

Maverick pulled one of the pillows from above Cecil’s head, tucking it under his mate’s ass.

Cecil laughed. That was a sound Maverick would never tire of hearing. “What are you doing?”

Maverick licked his lips as he stared at the sight splayed out before him. A slim, firm body with nestles of mahogany curls surrounding an erect and glorious cock. He smiled evilly at his small mate, lowering himself until he was eye level, saying hello to the gorgeous pulsing shaft.

He fisted the cock, bringing it to his lips as he opened wide. The member was warm, the pre-come salty. Maverick hummed as he took his mate’s cock until his nose was touching those wiry curls.

Cecil writhed below him, gasping and grunting, pulling at Maverick’s hair. Maverick hollowed his cheeks, pulling Cecil’s shaft from his mouth in one long, tightly suctioned move.

“Oh.” Cecil breathed, pushing his cock back toward Maverick’s mouth, pulling at his long, black strands. Maverick twirled his tongue around the crown then pushed the cock back down his throat.

“Stop torturing me!” Cecil cried to the ceiling as he bucked and squirmed. Maverick chuckled around his mate’s cock. He slid his hands under his mate’s ass, using his mate’s own body to push and pull Cecil’s shaft in and out of his mouth.

“Maverick.” Cecil cried out as he stiffened, he butt cheeks clenching in Maverick’s hands while hot come shot down Maverick’s throat.

* * * *

Maverick came into the bedroom after a long meeting with the Sentries, spotting his mate lying on the cool tiled floor, his eyes closed and his skin pale.

He yelled for Kota to call the wolf’s physician. Picking his mate up, Maverick took him to the bed, covering his mate then running to the bathroom for a cold cloth. Cecil's weak pulse worried Maverick more than anything. He laid the cloth across Cecil’s forehead, stroking his face with his fingertips.

Twenty minutes later the portly doctor entered the room. He examined Cecil, taking blood samples and examining his entire body. He clucked his tongue a few times, shaking his head and mumbling to himself. He finally tucked the covers back around the frail looking Cecil, going to the bathroom to wash his hands.