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Authors: Scarlet Hyacinth

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BOOK: The Swan Who Flew After a Wolf
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“What do you mean? You don’t trust me?”

“Whether I trust you or not is irrelevant,” Daniel replied. “It’s just

a tricky situation, and I want things to be absolutely clear.”

“I agree with that,” Paris said. For his part, he no longer wanted to

be regarded with doubt. If he was truly Anson Wright’s son, then he

wanted to be sure.

“Well, then it’s settled.” Daniel clapped his hands together. “Get

some rest, freshen up, and in the meantime, I’ll go find Anson and his

mate.”

Yet again, Paris and his mother were forced to comply. They

followed behind Melanie as she led them into a secondary wing of the

mansion. It didn’t escape Paris’s attention that Daniel went in the

exact opposite direction. Apparently, the squirrel aimed to keep Paris

and his mother apart from Anson.

Well, now that he was here, Paris had no choice but to go with the

flow. He only hoped his real father would be a better person than his

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Scarlet Hyacinth

adoptive one. If so, he would deem this trip a success, in spite of all

the hostility he’d faced so far.

* * * *

Anson dumped his mate on the bed, his wolf already eager and

demanding his mate’s attentions. The past few weeks had been

incredibly strenuous, not so much because of the pressure the pack

was putting on them, but rather, due to the fact that he hadn’t been

able to devote enough attention to Reed. Anson found that every

moment of the day, he yearned for Reed’s presence. Sometimes, his

mind would drift off into naughty fantasies, which Reed himself

encouraged.

But today was not a fantasy. It was real and so much better than

any dream could possibly be. Grinning, Anson pulled off his shirt and

tossed it on the floor. “I can’t wait to be inside you,” he said.

Reed shuddered, as Anson had, in fact, expected. He loved how

responsive his mate could be. Even dirty talk could get Reed

incredibly aroused, and it was one of Anson’s favorite things to do to

just lie over Reed’s nude body and whisper naughty things in his ear.

Of course, now he didn’t have the patience for that sort of thing,

and neither did Reed. The swan quickly started to remove his clothes

while Anson toed off his shoes and got rid of his pants. In no time,

they were both naked, their bond teeming with arousal.

Anson joined Reed on the bed, crawling over Reed, desperately

needing to feel his mate’s touch. As he brought their bodies together,

Reed wrapped his arms around Anson’s neck and pulled him in for a

kiss. Passion exploded between them as their lips met, and Anson

thrust his tongue into Reed’s mouth. God, he could never get enough

of Reed’s unique flavor. The swan surrendered to his dominance,

releasing small whimpers that ended up muffled by Anson’s assault.

Anson explored every inch of his mate’s mouth, sucking on Reed’s

tongue, licking the palate, devouring Reed. No matter how many

The Swan Who Flew After a Wolf

65

times he kissed the swan, it was always just as addicting and novel as

the first time.

They only broke apart because of the need to breathe. Their gazes

met, and Anson was invaded by an even more intense urge. He

yearned to feel Reed’s cock sliding over his tongue, to revel in the

flavor of his mate’s pre-cum.

Smirking wickedly, Anson kissed down Reed’s chest, caressing

each inch of silky skin he could reach. He was temporarily distracted

by the pretty pink nipples that demanded his attention, and he lingered

over them, unable to resist the sight. He bit down on one of the nubs

of flesh, making Reed arch against him and cry out.

“Sonny!” the swan screamed.

That word, spoken from Reed’s lips, was the greatest aphrodisiac

in existence. It was a very heady thing to know that Anson alone

could bring Reed to the edge, could make him go crazy with desire

and lose himself in the passion. Whenever he was with Reed, Anson

felt invincible and, at the same time, subdued by his own need for

Reed. It was paradoxical and perfect, and Anson wouldn’t have traded

this feeling for anything in the world.

Whatever he did seemed insufficient. He wished he could taste his

mate all over. Having two hands and one mouth didn’t seem enough.

In the end, Anson reluctantly gave up on teasing Reed’s nipples and

went straight for the prize. He lowered his mouth over Reed’s cock,

blowing a gust of hot air against the glans. Pearlescent drops of pre-

cum leaked from the tip, making Anson’s mouth water. He formed an

O
with his lips and, without a second of hesitation, took Reed’s prick

deep.

Reed moaned, but somehow still managed to speak. “I want to

taste you, too,” he panted out.

Never able to refuse his mate, Anson shifted their bodies until his

cock hovered above Reed’s mouth. The swan eagerly opened up, and

Anson thrust inside the wet cavern, nearly choking at the pleasure that

assaulted him.

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Scarlet Hyacinth

It was very hard to concentrate on pleasuring Reed when the

younger man was doing such sinful things to Anson. The fact that

Anson didn’t want to squash Reed under his larger bulk made it even

more problematic, but somehow they made it work. They fell into a

rhythm of sweet suction, warmth, and greed, engaged in a race that

held the most sensual prize of all.

Anson truly didn’t know who came first. A gush of Reed’s hot

semen splashed against the back of his throat, and at the same time,

unspeakable pleasure coursed through him. Growling against his

mate’s cock, he came, ecstasy sweeping over him in a wave that

reached every last fiber of his being.

And yet, as mind-numbing as the climax was, it only whet

Anson’s appetite. He crawled off Reed and changed positions, until

they were facing each other again.

“I don’t know how you can move after that,” Reed told him, his

expression dazed.

“I’ve got great incentive,” Anson replied, amazed that he could

even utter such long words. He reached for the nightstand and opened

the drawer. With the ease of practice, he found the tube of lubricant

inside. He felt Reed’s arousal skyrocket again and, as he looked at his

mate again, couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the swan’s lips. “Come

on, baby,” he whispered. “Show me how much you want this, how

much you want me to fuck you.”

With a low whimper, Reed lifted his legs, exposing his twitching

hole to Anson’s gaze. Just the sight of that pink, winking opening

almost made Anson swallow his own tongue. His hands trembled as

he opened the tube of lubricant and poured a hefty amount of liquid

on his fingers. He felt like he was a virgin on prom night, and his

greed and desire were mixed with uncertainty, the desperate need to

keep Reed safe.

In a way, he hadn’t fully let go of his hang-ups, but Reed’s

affection encouraged him, melting away any doubts he might have. It

wasn’t that he didn’t think Reed was truly his mate, but rather, that

The Swan Who Flew After a Wolf

67

Anson would end up destroying Reed’s innocence, enthusiasm, and

the way he saw the world, due to Anson’s more jaded perspective.

“Stop being an idiot and fuck me now,” Reed ordered.

Anson laughed, although Reed’s words did wonders for his

psyche. Shaking himself, he immediately obeyed Reed’s command.

He slid one slick finger inside Reed’s body, and they both groaned as

Reed’s channel clasped down on the digit. “Please, Sonny,” Reed

begged. “Don’t tease. I can take it.”

But in spite of Reed’s words, Anson didn’t relent in his thorough

preparation of his mate’s passage. He added another finger, then a

third one, scissoring them gently inside his mate. Reed writhed under

him when Anson hit his prostate, having at this point dissolved into

incoherence.

With the lust emanating through their bond, Anson couldn’t keep

his own need in check for much longer. He removed his fingers from

Reed’s channel and poured more lubricant on them. This time, he

slicked up his cock, never once looking away from Reed’s beautiful

face as he did so. “Ready, baby?”

Reed nodded eagerly, lifting his legs so high he was almost bent

in two. “In me. Please, in me.”

Anson didn’t have to be told twice. He positioned his cock at

Reed’s opening and slowly pushed inside. At first, it was a battle, one

to control his instincts and not start thrusting like a rutting animal. But

then, Reed squeezed his ass muscles around Anson’s prick.

Any resistance Anson could put up was shattered. His wolf broke

free, and just like that, Anson no longer felt nervousness. The passion,

the almost-painful pleasure, and the ecstasy flooding his bond with

Reed were too much for him to think of anything at all. His mind was

a litany of his mate’s name. He pulled out of Reed and thrust back in,

pouring all the yearning he had for his mate into the motion. The

resulting shove was so powerful it made the bed move with them, but

Reed took it in stride. He clung onto the headboard and pushed back,

impaling himself on Anson’s cock.

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Scarlet Hyacinth

After that, Anson’s mind melted in a blur of emotion, ecstasy, and

animalistic desire. His bond with Reed overflowed with the amalgam

of sensation, and Anson lost track of everything that wasn’t his lovely

mate. They fell into a rhythm that was poetry in motion, as perfect

and effortless as their bond. Over and over, Anson buried his cock

inside Reed’s tight ass, and it was only instinct that guided him to

always hit Reed’s prostate.

In spite of their earlier orgasms, it came as no surprise that soon,

they were both on the brink once again. Anson’s wolf howled inside

him, demanding the final completion of their bond. For once, Anson

didn’t care about anything anyone said. This was right, and so perfect.

He and Reed fit together, and nothing, absolutely nothing, could go

wrong, as long they stayed true to each other.

Clinging to that thought, Anson buried his fangs in Reed’s neck.

As soon as his mate’s blood hit his taste buds, Anson came, the rush

of ecstasy too powerful to withstand. If throughout their entire

coupling, they had felt each other’s emotions, now there were no

longer any boundaries of identity. Reed and Anson were one, a single

soul, together for all eternity.

He felt Reed come as well, both physically in a splash of heat

hitting his stomach, and at a different, more transcendental level,

through their bond. Their shared climax washed over them like a

hurricane, threatening to swallow them whole. But Anson was no

longer afraid. He embraced the emotion and the pleasure. He opened

his heart to all the love he felt for Reed and the happiness that only his

beautiful swan had brought into his life.

For so long, he had been alone, having partially become alienated

from his best friend. For so long, everyone had considered him a fool.

They’d all thought that he’d never taken a mate out of a misshapen

desire for Liam. But Anson had just been waiting. In his heart, he had

somehow known the day would come when his true mate would

appear. And now that this had finally happened, Anson wanted

nothing more than to spend his entire life at Reed’s side.

The Swan Who Flew After a Wolf

69

Reed’s own thoughts drifted in Anson’s mind, a myriad of ideas

mostly centered around Reed’s love for Anson. Love. If anyone had

told Anson twenty years ago that he would fall for Liam’s son, Anson

would have thought the person in question insane.

Anson floated on the cloud of pleasure and happiness for the

longest time, simply enjoying the mind bond, the closeness, and the

pure flawlessness of the moment. As the haze of orgasm dimmed,

though, Anson found himself forced to return to reality. He collapsed

at Reed’s side, tired, but sated.

He’d have liked to say many things, among them “God, I love

you,” and “Fuck, that was amazing.” Instead, he pulled Reed close,

inhaling his mate’s scent, combined with his own. The beast within

him loved to mark Reed as his own.

Reed chuckled, a tired but gleeful sound. “You’re crazy,” he said.

“Only about you,” Anson replied automatically.

Since Anson was, as a rule, insatiable, he might have resumed

their little sex fest, but he suddenly sensed someone approach. Just

BOOK: The Swan Who Flew After a Wolf
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