Page 7 of Ours (Mating Run #5)

Cole knelt in the dirt, face marked with their release, and tried to remember how to breathe.

He'd just... God, he'd just serviced two werewolves.

Both of them. At the same time. The taste of them still lingered on his tongue, salt and musk and something wild that made his head spin.

His jaw ached, a deep, satisfying throb that would remind him of this for days.

His throat was raw, used, claimed. His knees pressed into the forest floor, pine needles prickling at his knees, and tomorrow the bruises would map out exactly how long he'd knelt for them.

He'd never felt better in his life.

The evidence of what they'd done was cooling on his skin—across his cheeks, his lips, dripping down his throat in obscene trails.

He was marked. Claimed. Theirs in a way that went beyond words or promises.

Anyone who saw him would know exactly what had happened, exactly who he belonged to. The thought should have mortified him. Should have sent him scrambling for dignity, for boundaries, for some shred of the control he'd always clung to.

Instead, it made his untouched cock throb desperately, leaking against his stomach like he hadn't already been on edge for what felt like hours.

Yes , something primal whispered in his mind. Theirs.

Blake dropped to his knees beside him with predatory grace, Luca mirroring the movement on his other side.

Before Cole could process what was happening, they were everywhere—hands stroking his arms, his back, his thighs with a possessive familiarity that made him shudder.

Blake's mouth found his throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just hard enough to make Cole gasp before his tongue soothed the sting.

Luca's fingers tangled in his hair, grip firm but careful, tilting his head back to expose more of his neck.

The submission in the gesture—offering his throat to creatures who could tear it out—should have terrified him. Instead, it made him melt.

"Still with us, baby?" Blake murmured against his pulse point, and Cole could feel the wolf's smile against his skin.

Cole could only whimper in response. Words were beyond him. Everything was beyond him except feeling—the heat of their bodies bracketing his, the way their hands seemed to know exactly where to touch to make him shake, the overwhelming rightness of being between them.

They were still hard. Both of them. Cole could feel their cocks pressing against him as they crowded close, hot and insistent, and the knowledge that werewolves could go multiple rounds—that they were nowhere near done with him—made him dizzy.

His human body was already wrecked, oversensitive and trembling, and they hadn't even fucked him yet.

Yet. The word echoed in his mind like a promise.

"Look at you," Blake said, voice rough with approval and something darker, hungrier. His thumb traced along Cole's jaw, gathering the mess there, and Cole's breath hitched when Blake brought it to his own mouth, tasting. "Marked up so pretty. Like you were made for this."

Maybe I was, Cole thought deliriously. Maybe I was always meant to end up here, on my knees between them.

Luca’s tongue traced along Cole's jaw, lapping at the mess they'd made with slow, deliberate strokes.

The intimate gesture should have been too much, too degrading, but Cole found himself tilting his head, giving better access, a broken moan escaping when Luca hummed in approval.

On his other side, Blake did the same, cleaning him with careful attention that felt like worship and claim in equal measure.

They worked in tandem, synchronized even in this.

When Blake nipped at his earlobe, sending sparks down Cole's spine, Luca's teeth found his shoulder, biting just hard enough to leave marks that would purple by morning.

When Luca's hand splayed across his chest, fingers finding and teasing a nipple until Cole gasped, Blake's grip on his hip tightened, holding him steady.

They were mapping him, learning him, claiming every inch of skin they could reach with a thoroughness that spoke of intent.

This wasn't just sex. This was possession.

Cole felt like he was coming apart at the seams, unraveling under their attention.

Every nerve ending was firing at once, pleasure and overstimulation blurring together until he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

Every brush of air against his cock made him twitch, made him whine, made him consider begging in ways that would have horrified him an hour ago.

They moved together, pressing him back until he was lying on the ground between them. All his attention was on their hands, their mouths, the way they seemed determined to touch every part of him at once. He felt like prey—surrounded, overwhelmed, consumed—and god help him, he loved it.

Blake's mouth traveled lower, across his chest with hot, open-mouthed kisses that left Cole gasping.

His tongue flicked over a nipple, then his teeth closed around it, and Cole arched off the ground with a cry that echoed through the trees.

Luca followed the same path on the other side, and the dual sensation was almost too much—pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, making his neglected cock leak a steady stream onto his stomach.

"So sensitive,” Luca murmured against his skin, sounding awed. "Look how he’s trembling for us, Blake."

"Beautiful," Blake agreed, and there was something raw in his voice, something that went deeper than lust. "Absolutely perfect."

When they both moved lower still, Cole's brain short-circuited.

Blake's breath ghosted over his cock, making it twitch desperately, precome beading at the tip.

Cole's hands flew to Blake's hair, not sure if he was trying to push him away or pull him closer.

But it was Luca who moved behind him, strong hands spreading him open with deliberate intent, and Cole's whole body went rigid with anticipation and a spike of nervous heat.

"Breathe, baby," Blake murmured, and then his mouth was on him.

Cole cried out, hips bucking up involuntarily as Blake took him deep in one smooth motion.

Blake's hands held him steady, fingers pressing bruises into his hips that Cole would treasure, taking him deep with practiced ease that suggested this wasn't his first time with a man.

The wet heat was perfect, overwhelming, exactly what Cole had been craving.

Blake's tongue did something wicked to the underside of his cock, and Cole saw stars.

Then Luca's tongue touched him from behind, and Cole's vision whited out entirely.

"Fuck!" The word tore from his throat, raw and desperate.

He'd never experienced anything like this.

Never imagined it was possible to feel so much at once.

Blake's mouth working him from the front with devastating skill, Luca's tongue doing things that should have been illegal from behind, opening him up with patient determination that made Cole's thighs shake.

They moved in perfect rhythm, one advancing when the other retreated, keeping Cole balanced on a knife's edge of pleasure that threatened to tear him apart. Every time he thought he might tumble over, they pulled back, leaving him gasping and desperate, reduced to nothing but need.

Time ceased to exist. There was only sensation: wet heat and pressure and the obscene sounds filling the night air.

Cole's hands scrabbled for purchase in the dirt, his body twisting between them, not sure whether to push forward into Blake's mouth or back against Luca's tongue.

Both. Neither. He wanted to crawl out of his skin with how good it felt.

"Can't—I can't—" Cole babbled, barely coherent. "Too much, it's too?—"

But they didn't stop. If anything, they redoubled their efforts, Blake taking him so deep Cole could feel the back of his throat, Luca's tongue pushing inside him in a way that made Cole's entire body light up like a live wire.

"I'm going to—" Cole tried to warn them, but it was too late.

His orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave, so intense his vision went black at the edges.

He might have screamed—probably did, given how his throat felt after.

He might have sobbed Blake's name, or Luca's, or both.

He definitely come harder than he ever had in his life, his whole body convulsing with the force of it, muscles locking up as pleasure bordered on transcendent.

Blake swallowed everything, working him through it until Cole was shaking from overstimulation, whimpering and trying to pull away. Only then did he release him with a final, gentle lick that made Cole's spent cock twitch weakly.

When he finally came back to himself, gasping and shaking like he'd run a marathon, both wolves were staring down at him with expressions that made his spent cock attempt to show interest despite being thoroughly wrung out.

Awe. Possession. Hunger that hadn't been close to sated.

And something else—something tender and fierce that made Cole's chest tight with emotion he wasn't ready to name.

"Perfect," Blake breathed, and there was something reverent in his voice, like Cole was something precious, something to be cherished even as they wrecked him.

"Ours," Luca added, and it sounded like a vow, like a promise, like fate.

They moved again, repositioning him between them with gentle hands that belied the hunger still burning in their eyes.

Cole was boneless, pliant, letting them arrange him however they wanted.

He trusted them, he realized with a distant sort of shock.

Trusted these dangerous creatures who could tear him apart without breaking a sweat.

He ended up on his side, Blake pressed against his front, Luca solid and warm against his back. Surrounded. Safe. Theirs.

When Blake's cock slid between his thighs, Cole gasped at the sensation.

So hot, so hard, the length of him pressing against sensitive skin still slick with sweat and spit.

Behind him, Luca's cock nestled between his cheeks, not pushing in, just resting there with promise that made Cole's hole clench with anticipation.

"Is this okay?" Luca asked, and the fact that he was checking in, making sure Cole was still with them despite how wrecked he was, made emotion swell in Cole's chest. Even lost to their hunger, they were taking care of him.

"Yes," Cole managed, voice destroyed, rough like he'd been screaming. Which, to be fair, he probably had been. "God, yes. Please. Need you both."

They started to move, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that had them sliding against him in tandem.

The slide of their cocks against him—Blake between his thighs, Luca between his cheeks—the feeling of being surrounded, claimed, used for their pleasure while his own body still hummed with satisfaction—it was everything Cole had never known he needed.

His own cock was trying valiantly to get hard again, overwhelmed by the sensation of being between them, of being the center of their focus, their desire.

Blake's hand came up to grip his throat, holding him—a collar made of flesh and bone that marked Cole as surely as any bite would. Luca's teeth found his shoulder, biting down just hard enough to leave marks that would scar, that would forever mark where he'd claimed Cole as his.

They were going to destroy him, Cole realized through the haze of renewed arousal. Take him apart piece by piece and put him back together as theirs. Mark him inside and out until there was no part of him they hadn't claimed.

He couldn't wait.

"Yours," he whispered, the word barely audible but carrying the weight of surrender, of acceptance, of want so deep it scared him. "Both of yours."

The growls that rumbled from both wolves at his words vibrated through his entire body, and Cole knew with bone-deep certainty that his life as he'd known it was over.