Page 12 of Against the Veil (Endangered Fae #3)

After much discussion, the room they had settled on was Zack’s bedroom.

As far as possible from the fae caverns, it also had the added virtues of storm shutters on the windows and heavy, masculine furniture.

Lugh nodded his satisfaction as Diego closed and barricaded the door behind them.

Everything breakable had been removed, including Zack’s pictures and the mirror from the dresser.

Lugh fully intended to have the beast well in hand before anything might be broken, but he didn’t want to risk damaging Zack’s few possessions.

The leather restraints lay on the floor. Zack nosed at them and took a strap between his teeth to shake it back and forth.

“That is not a plaything, Zachary. Please put it down.”

Zack complied and sat watching him, tongue lolling out. He obviously understood far more as a wolf than he did as the were-beast. Lugh sat with him. They still had half an hour before moonrise.

“I will not hurt you.” He took the golden muzzle between his hands, gazing into attentive gray eyes.

“But I may need to do things I would not if circumstances were otherwise. I hope you will understand and that you can forgive me. What I do, I do to keep you safe and to keep you from harming all those dear to you.”

With a little whine-yawn, Zack jerked forward to lick Lugh’s face and butt at his chest. It seemed a gesture of comprehension.

Besides the restraints and the bottles of water Lugh had requested, Diego had piled clean towels and bed linens on the dresser and set a bottle of oil on the nightstand. The care inherent in these little gestures touched Lugh, regret stealing up on him over his earlier impatience.

Evening crowded out the light as the last fingers of sun vanished in the trees.

He sat on the floor with Zack, unhappy anticipation making the minutes crawl.

Softly, he sang of old deeds and battles to pass the time, with Zack curled up against his thigh.

Soon enough, though, he felt the tug of the moon.

Zack whimpered and curled into a tight ball, muscles shivering under his fur.

“I hear you, my braveheart,” Lugh said as he took a firm hold of his scruff. “Let it begin. We are ready.”

He moved back, kneeling on the floor to keep his limbs out of reach of snapping teeth.

A growl rumbled from Zack’s chest, like distant thunder at first, growing in volume and threat as the storm of his change neared.

Suddenly he twisted violently. With a snarl, he snapped at Lugh’s exposed knee.

The teeth only scraped, though, and Lugh seized the thick ruff in both hands, fighting to keep the struggling wolf down.

No more time for regret or reflection, Lugh’s muscles strained as Zack lunged and jerked against his hold.

The frightened, angry snarls soon alternated with whimpers.

Sickening crackles and creaks of tortured muscle and bone echoed off the walls as the body under him began to change.

Zack flung out a desperate howl as his paws grew fingers and his limbs elongated.

Sweat trickled down Lugh’s back. He gritted his teeth as he struggled not to lose his grip. If he made a mistake here, lost his hold for even an instant, the chances of his survival would be a wager he didn’t wish to take. He waited until Zack had fur-covered arms and legs before he moved.

“Forgive me,” he murmured as he let go with one hand long enough to strike two hard blows behind Zack’s ear.

The change continued even though Zack lay momentarily dazed.

Lugh snatched up two of the restraints and buckled them around Zack’s wrists, then heaved him up onto the bed and lashed them to the bedposts.

Already recovered, Zack renewed his struggles, but now all Lugh had to do was deal with one leg at a time.

Within moments, he had Zack fastened spread-eagle, face down on the mattress.

Panting, Lugh took a moment to calm his pounding heart.

The arrangement would keep them both safe through the night, but not if Lugh simply left him to howl and struggle against his bonds.

Either the leather would snap or the bed would break, and neither would take long.

He eased onto the mattress, kneeling between Zack’s widely spread thighs.

Perhaps there should have been revulsion in touching what he had always seen as an abomination.

But the body before him was still Zack, and though the madness had him in its grip and his body was a contorted parody of itself, there was still a strange and terrible beauty in its primal ferocity.

Lugh’s body responded to the animal need and he fought down his own urges, angry at his lack of control.

He palmed one of the furred balls and the were-beast stilled with a soft, needy whine. A simple stroke up and down the crease had the beast pushing up into his hand, hips pumping to drive his erection against the blankets.

“Good, that’s it, my dear.” Lugh spoke softly, murmuring encouragement. The first orgasm shook the bed with shocking speed. Lugh hoped that meant it might be easier to satisfy the hunger this time since the beast was less intent on fighting him and more desperate for his attentions.

He waited until the shuddering howls quieted, then spent a few minutes stroking the were-beast’s back.

The calm lasted only until he caught his breath.

Lips pulled back from razor teeth, he turned his head and snapped at Lugh’s hand, snarling and twisting against the leather.

His teeth closed on empty air, which seemed to frustrate him more.

After another moment, Lugh abandoned trying to soothe him as he thrashed more and more violently.

“Blood and thunder, Zachary,” he muttered and reached underneath to grab hold of Zack’s cock. “Calm yourself.”

The musk of Zack’s arousal, wild and heavy, made Lugh’s head spin.

It was all he could do to keep himself from plunging into that body.

He uncapped the oil bottle, clumsy with one hand, and poured a small stream down the cleft between furred cheeks.

Another whine of need told him the were-beast approved of the unexpected sensation.

He stroked with one hand, letting the oiled hand tease at Zack’s hole and slowly stroke his balls.

Careful never to let his fingers enter, Lugh concentrated instead on the hard, coarse-furred erection.

It might frustrate the were-beast to be denied penetration but there was a line he would not cross.

Necessity was one thing, violation another.

Even if the beast wanted it, Zack most assuredly did not, and had made himself quite clear on more than one occasion.

Depending on who lay beneath him, Lugh was not always the gentlest lover. Many of his lovers had wanted harder, rougher, and had begged for it. But that was the distinction. They had given him leave.

Zack’s body froze in a rictus of pleasure, teeth bared, before he jerked hard against Lugh’s hand and let loose the howls of his second climax.

Lugh fought his own needs down and brought him to completion repeatedly.

At the seventh or eighth orgasm, Zack’s furred hip rubbed against Lugh’s achingly hard cock and he lost his battle.

His seed spilled in heated white ropes across Zack’s fur.

It almost seemed to be what the were-beast needed. After a few more wriggles and guttural moans, Zack drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

Lugh sat for a time on the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands, fighting back his tears.