Page 37 of Feral Heart

And he was right. His mate turned the burners off, his eyes a deep amber glow as he pulled Jamie out of the kitchen and to one of the tavern bedrooms. They’d blown him away the first time he’d stepped into one. When Jamie thought of tavern bedrooms, rickety furniture and sparsely furnished came to mind. Not these rooms. His mate told Jamie the first time they’d used one that the bartender… er, alpha, like his comforts. None of the rooms belonged to any one person, even though Sin & Steel was really the pack den.

Every thought fled when Cesar kicked the door closed behind them, his hands all possessive confidence and barely checked hunger. Jamie’s heart knocked around his ribs, a weird mix of excitement and trust making him loose-limbed as he let Cesar back him up until his knees hit the edge of the bed.

Then his back met the cool sheets, legs hanging off the mattress. His shirt vanished somewhere behind Cesar’s head, the damp hem catching on his nose before Jamie started laughing.

“You always get me naked in record time, you know that?” His voice came out too high, but he didn’t care. He always said the wrong thing when he was nervous, so why not now, when it mattered most?

Jamie’s heart pounded way faster than it should have. He’d never get used to being wanted like this, not even if it happened every day. He reached for Cesar’s waistband, finding skin instead, tracing along his lower stomach, following the light trail of hair until his knuckles bumped into the hard length tenting his sweats.

The way his mate looked at him now—eyes all molten blue with that amber glow—made Jamie’s stomach swoop, like the first drop on a roller coaster. It was only the two of them now—no pack, no brother, no ghosts.

Cesar took his hand, pressing it flat against his cock, letting Jamie measure every inch before sliding the pants down his hips. He watched, transfixed. Cesar was so perfect, so full of tension, all controlled heat and hunger.

His own jeans and underwear were gone before he really registered how.

Their mouths pressed together, rough and soft at the same time, tongues seeking and coaxing. Jamie opened up, letting him in. It all felt normal now, this easy push and pull, Cesar’s body finding his like they’d rehearsed it for years.

“Tan listo para mí,” Cesar muttered, mouth moving down the line of Jamie’s throat, tongue flicking over his racing pulse. Jamie arched, knees falling open as if his body knew the script by heart.

He was pretty sure the world narrowed to Cesar’s mouth on his skin and the scratch of stubble under his jaw, strong hands parting his thighs.

Cesar didn’t say anything, just pressed his mouth to Jamie’s cock, tongue swirling in a way that made Jamie’s entire body buzz. He knew what Cesar was doing—he’d learned his tells by now—the way one long, slow lick up the length always meant he was plotting something and the way Cesar’s hand cupped Jamie’s balls, thumb rolling, meant he was about to up the ante.

God. Jamie fought to keep some grip on his thoughts, but it was useless. He let go, hips rocking weakly against Cesar’s mouth, pulse thumping in his ears. He could’ve stayed there for hours, but Cesar pulled off with a last kiss to Jamie’s tip, making him whine, half-protest, half-please-don’t-stop.

“Turn around for me, colibrí,” Cesar coaxed, voice low and ragged.

Jamie did, heart pounding, pressing his chest and cheek to the mattress, ass tipped up in the air, feeling no shame. He wanted this. No, he craved it. He craved the way Cesar’s hands settled on his hips, thumbs pressing small, steadying circles into his skin.

A jolt of anticipation shot through him as Cesar’s cock nudged at his entrance, the familiar slickness of shifter precum already easing the way. Jamie breathed deep, relaxed, and let his mind focus on the details—the warmth of Cesar’s body braced behind him, the low string of Spanish that vibrated against his skin, the way his own hands curled around the sheets to anchor him.

The first push was heady, broad tip breaching him, Cesar’s precum relaxing muscle and making his body open up. Jamie sucked in a breath, not in discomfort but in surprise at how... right it felt. The pressure was firm, not painful, and when a second and third spurt slicked him further, the tension eased.

“Yes,” Jamie whispered, pushing back, greedy for more.

He felt Cesar steady himself, both hands anchoring Jamie’s hips as he pressed in, slow and controlled until Jamie was full, so full he almost forgot how to breathe. Every nerve ending snapped awake, from the base of his spine to the soles of his feet. Heat rolled through him, sweat breaking out across his shoulders as Cesar bottomed out, their bodies now flush together.

“Perfecto,” Cesar gritted out, voice shaking a little. One hand slid up Jamie’s back, spanning his side like a living claim.

Jamie rocked back, impatience taking over. “Move, jellybean,” he mumbled into the blankets, voice shaky and hungry.

“So beautiful when you give in like that.” The rhythm got rougher, sharper, every thrust hitting that spot that made Jamie’s vision blur at the edges.

Every roll of hips hit something inside Jamie that made him want to beg, curse, promise anything if only this never stopped. Noise spilled out of him, little bits of nonsense—Cesar’s name, random grocery facts, half-Spanish, all of it tumbling until it just dissolved into desperate, wordless sounds. He held on as the bed creaked and Cesar’s rhythm built.

Sweat pooled at the small of his back. Cesar leaned forward, chest pressed tight against Jamie’s spine, mouth at his ear. “Tan bueno, mi vida. Querido, eres tan perfecto para mí.” He punctuated each phrase with a thrust, his cock dragging against that spot that made Jamie’s vision flicker.

Jamie gripped the sheets harder, breath hitching as Cesar’s hand snaked underneath, fingers curling around his cock. Every stroke pulled him closer, pleasure ratcheting up so fast Jamie could barely keep up. He couldn’t tell if he was trembling from the friction, the heat, or the way Cesar’s voice kept breaking through with promises, none of them cheesy, all of them true.

“Don’t stop,” Jamie gasped, feeling everything tighten, his body tensing up like an overstrung guitar. He was close, so close, and every muscle in his body seemed to coil tight.

Cesar’s teeth grazed Jamie’s shoulder, hovering, threatening. Jamie’s whole world narrowed to that bite, the promise of it, the way Cesar’s cock kept hitting that spot inside him with relentless, punishing precision.

It only took a few more strokes—Cesar’s hand on his cock, body flush behind him, hips slamming home—and Jamie’s orgasm hit hard and wild, vision going white. He barely registered Cesar’s voice, a low commanding call in Spanish, before teeth sank into his shoulder, pain and pleasure hitting him at the same time.

He cried out Cesar’s name, body jerking, pleasure riding him longer than he thought possible as Cesar came inside him with a growl that sounded both human and wolf.

For a long moment they stayed like that, Cesar pressed over him, both panting, sweat cooling on skin. Jamie felt raw and alive and anchored, more himself than he’d ever been. He reached back blindly, feeling Cesar’s fingers close over his, squeezing once, twice, just enough to promise he wasn’t letting go.

Eventually, Jamie let out a laugh, muffled and shaky, into the sheets. “You killed my ability to think.”

Cesar pressed a kiss to his shoulder, tongue soothing over the mark. “Te amo, colibrí.”

Jamie let himself believe it—let himself belong—in this new, solid place he’d found with Cesar. And as Cesar pulled him close, gentle again, Jamie thought maybe forever didn’t seem so impossible after all.

THE END