Jacks, Marcy - Handcuffed to the Werewolf [DeWitt's Pack 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (9 page)

Tristan and Isaac’s voices could be heard bickering about something.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised anymore that this is happening with so many males in my pack. Wonder who will be next?”

Mick shrugged. “I doubt it will happen anymore. You and Corey were one thing. Tristan  and that hunter was unbelievable, and me and  Jason, especially considering we wouldn’t have met if Deacon hadn’t kidnapped him or me and threw us both in the same pit, is just some kind of miracle. I think that’s all we’ll see of this kind of thing for a

while.”

James nodded.

“So,” Mick popped his knuckles. “Can you let go of my mate so

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we can go to my room, or do I have to fight you for him?”

James laughed and took his heavy arm off of Jason’s shoulder.  Jason eagerly moved toward Mick like a moth fluttering toward a  light.

“He wasn’t hurting me,” Jason said, not liking the idea of a fight.

Mick’s arm around his shoulder was less imposing and much  more welcome, and they turned away. “It’s the principle of the thing,”  he said then half turned and waved to James. “Come and get us in an  hour and we’ll discuss Deacon. No disturbing until then!”

Jason wanted to die of embarrassment.

* * * *

“What’s it like being a werewolf?” Jason asked. “Do you see  things clearer? Experience them better?”

He ran his hand up the firm shaft of Mick’s erect cock as he  spoke. It was curved just enough that the very tip just rest on Mick’s  bellybutton.

He had an outie, and Jason thought it was the most beautiful  bellybutton he’d ever seen in his life.

“Uhh, can we discuss this later?”

Though Jason hadn’t tied Mick to the bed or anything like that— Mick explained that his inner alpha would never allow it—Jason was still able to give Mick firm instructions to reach above his head, grab the wobbly headboard, and hold on tightly to it, preventing it from banging against the wall and disturbing whoever was in the next

room.

The punishment if he let go, of course, would be Jason’s

immediate cease and desist of his actions.

“That wasn’t in our agreement,” Jason scolded, giving Mick’s

cock another firm stroke. He loved that he could now touch his lover,

his mate, without worry of poisoning him like before, and right now  he wanted nothing better than to massage and lick the hell out of

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anywhere he could get his hands and mouth.

It was teasing poor Mick to the point where he would soon be  climbing the walls, but Jason was having no sympathy for him.

Mick was getting frustrated.

“If you don’t—”

“Hands back on the bed frame,” Jason said, keeping his voice firm  without issuing a direct order.

Mick hesitated, and then returned his hands to gripping the  wooden frame. Jason thought he heard a crunching sound in the  wood, but couldn’t be sure.

To keep Mick from losing his temper with him, Jason finally decided to show him a little pity, and he wrapped his  mouth around the top of Mick’s dick and swallowed him down.

There had been only one other person Jason had done this to, and back when they had both been horny, impatient virgins.

Mick was horny and impatient, but he was not a virgin, and he kept himself in check, not thrusting down Jason’s throat like an inexperienced adolescent. Instead he groaned deep within his throat, thrusting his hips, pelvis jerking, letting Jason properly give him head.

Jason loved this. It was his favourite part of sex. The power  to make another man want him so much, beg for him, and at the same time, giving himself over to Mick for his pleasure.

He wished he could do it all day, but he did not have the jaw and throat muscles to be sucking on Mick’s cock for so long. When he pulled back, he quickly crawled up Mick’s beautifully muscled body, pressed their lips together—God, his lips were so soft—and then whispered into Mick’s ear that he now had the proper permission to let go of the headboard.

Mick wasted no time. He grabbed onto Jason’s shoulders, and, using that incredible power of his, nearly crushed Jason to his chest as they rolled and rutted against each other.

Maybe Mick hadn’t been kidding when he suggested that they hadn’t claimed each other properly. This was just too intense!

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They fell off the bed and laughingly came back together with

another kiss.

“Turn around, get on your knees,” Mick said.

Jason did as he was told, gripping Mick’s bed sheets tightly  between his fingers.

He felt the warm press of a kiss between his shoulder blades.  “You are so beautiful. I can’t wait to put my cock in your ass.”

As he’d said it, Mick’s fingers, lubed now from a bottle he’d  snagged, wiggled their way between Jason’s crack, and he shivered as  they prodded his hole.

He spread his legs, thrusting his ass out, eager for it, wanting it  more than anything else he’d wanted in his life.

Jason reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking it as Mick  entered him. He was still decently prepared from their time together  earlier, but the sensation of being entered burned as it always did, and,  thankfully, even in the midst of his dirty talk, and likely just as horny  and full of need as Jason felt, Mick was still able to take his time.

Mick groaned deeply in Jason’s ear when he was fully submerged and ready, his breath rough and hot against the back of his neck. “You grip me so fucking well. I love being inside you.”

Jason loved it, too, but could barely speak. He settled for one word. “Yes.”

Mick’s breathing came out punched and laboured, in sync with the sharp push and pull of his cock inside of Jason’s ass and the slapping of their bodies.

Jason was moaning uncontrollably already. It was too easy for him to come. He was about to release himself all over the place, and he didn’t want that. Though Mick was  already at a pace that suggested he was about to come, Jason wanted this to last just a bit longer, and he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, not caring about the pain so long as he did not come.

“That’s right, baby. Touch yourself for me.”

Jason could hardly think as his body bounced up and down as he

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sat in Mick’s lap, doing his best to push his ass back against Mick’s  cock, driving him deeper, to the place he most wanted to be touched.

“Right there!” Jason cried out. “That’s so good, don’t slow  down.”

Mick reached his hand around and pried Jason’s fingers off of his cock. His hand was still lubed up, and with his slick digits he stroked  Jason’s prick until he thought his entire body would explode from the building pressure becoming stronger within him.

Then Mick’s hand became as tight as Jason’s had been. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Jason nearly sobbed at the loss of his orgasm, he couldn’t even think straight, and though Mick was speaking the same language he always did, Jason didn’t understand. “What?”

“Tell me you’re mine.” Mick growled, his fingers playing around  Jason’s foreskin, driving him insane.

“I’m yours! I’m yours!” he screamed.

Mick finally released enough of the pressure on his hand and began stroking Jason in earnest with his thrusting hips, and Jason stood no chance against the flood of pleasure that overcame him as his orgasm finally took over.

Mick was right there with him, as had been the plan all along.

Jason let his face fall down flat on the mattress, his fingers still gripping the bedspread as he caught his breath.

Mick didn’t even pull out of him before he felt his cock begin to stiffen once more inside of him.

“Christ, you really can go on forever,” Jason said.

Mick sounded almost embarrassed about it. “Yeah, but we can

wait.”

Jason wouldn’t be cruel and make him wait too long, but he did need the breather. However, the sudden reminder of Mick’s werewolf

abilities did bring back his previous question.

“Is it better for you? Because you’re a werewolf?”

Mick curled around Jason’s  back, hugging him as he was still

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inside of him, neither of them in any hurry to separate.

“Sometimes,” he answered. “But just because you can have ten  orgasms in less than an hour doesn’t mean they’ll all be fabulous.  That’s still all you doing that to me.”

Mick accented those words with a sensual thrust, and Jason

gasped as he chuckled.

Then he got serious once more. “Would you turn me into a

werewolf? Because we’re mates?”

Mick stiffened behind him. “Not if you didn’t want me to. Some wolves do that, I wouldn’t. You don’t have to worry.”

“I’m not worried. I ”—

A loud banging on their door had them both startled and jumpy.

The door was locked, though.

“Yeah?” Mick called, gently separating himself from Jason.

Though Jason suspected that Mick already knew who was on the other side of the door, Jason had to wait until he heard James’s voice.

“Get out here now, Mick. Hunters are on our land.”

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Chapter Nine

Jason did not appreciate being locked inside this room, his and  Mick’s room, like he was some kind of helpless child, waiting for news of Mick’s return.

Jason had wanted to go with him. He knew how to shoot. He didn’t like the killing, but he was a good shot, and that Isaac guy had guns on him that he could use. Mick had promptly kissed him, thrown him on the bed, and run out, locking the door from the outside before  Jason could get to it.

There must have been a chair put under the door handle or something, because he couldn’t get out no matter how much he banged on the door. The bars over Mick’s window didn’t help anything either.

He knocked over the dresser and kicked the bed frame he was so

angry, and then he had to sit down on the bed, clutching at his foot  because of the pain, swallowing over his tears of fear.

He hadn’t known about werewolves and hunters or any of that sort  of thing for long, but in his limited experience he knew that hunters  killed werewolves. Mick could die, and Jason was locked in here with

nothing to do but think about it.

He wondered if Isaac had locked Tristan up, then thought it  unlikely considering Tristan was a werewolf himself. If there were  bars over his window, he could probably break them with enough  effort.

Jason opened the window and gripped the black metal bars. Why in the fucking hell were these even on here? His second floor window wasn’t facing the fight, but Jason could hear the growls and the

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gunshots.

It wasn’t some huge, epic battle. He was sure if it was, more  destructive noises would be coming his way. Maybe they were at a  deadlock, neither side really able to advance.

That was no good either.

If only he could get these off!

Then he stopped, recalling the sight of something that might help  him that had come to his attention when he knocked over the dresser.

He went to it, pushing it back up and searching through  the closed and old T-shirts that had fallen out and onto the floor before he came

back with it.

A Swiss Army knife. Guess even werewolves, for all their strengths, liked having these around, or maybe it was just Mick.

Didn’t matter. Jason flipped through the blades as he went back toward the bars until he found one that looked to be the right size.

The blade fit nicely into the screw, and Jason began to loosen the bolts that kept these bars in place. He was going to find a gun and—

“Hello there!”

Deacon’s sudden appearance on the other side of the bars, his wide smile and bright, eager eyes, made Jason scream and jump back.  He fell onto the bed, the knife forgotten in his hand.

Deacon gripped the bars and gave them a test pull, and then he grinned at Jason. “Really strong, these are. Don’t worry. I’ll just be a minute.”

Jesus Christ! Jason ran to the door and began pounding on it in earnest, bashing it with his shoulder, anything that would make it

open.

“Help! Help!” he screamed.

“Don’t think they’re going to hear you, boy. Everyone’s kind of  busy,” Deacon whispered, pointing around the house to where the  fight was still happening. Then he clenched his neck and jaw in the  way one did when there was a screwup. “Oops for you.”