Page 9 of Ours (Mating Run #5)

Three Months Later

Cole checked the clock on the nightstand for the third time in ten minutes. Five thirty. They'd be home soon.

The house felt different now that it was theirs—all three of theirs.

His books lined the shelves next to Blake's nature guides and Luca's collection of crime novels.

His coffee mug sat in the cabinet next to their matching set, chipped from when he'd dropped it last week and both wolves had nearly tripped over themselves trying to make sure he wasn't hurt.

His clothes hung in their closet, taking up the space they'd cleared for him without him even asking.

Home. Three months ago, the word had been foreign, something other people had. Now it lived in his chest, warm and constant.

He'd learned their routines by heart. Blake always checked the perimeter before coming inside, methodical and thorough.

Luca would head straight for the kitchen, grabbing a beer and calling out to see if Cole needed anything.

They'd both seek him out within minutes, some invisible timer in their heads counting down until they could touch him, scent him, reassure themselves he was safe.

Cole smiled, stripping off his shirt and tossing it toward the hamper. It had taken him weeks to realize they weren't being clingy—they were being wolves. Pack. And he was theirs to protect, to care for, to love with an intensity that still sometimes took his breath away.

The black silk blindfold sat on the dresser where he'd left it this morning, and his pulse kicked up just looking at it.

This game had started by accident two weeks ago when Blake had covered his eyes with his hands during a particularly intense moment, and Cole had nearly come apart from the sensation of not knowing which of them was touching him where.

"You like that, don't you?" Luca had growled afterward, voice rough with satisfaction. "Not being able to see us, having to guess."

Cole had nodded, too wrecked to speak, and Blake had pressed a kiss to his temple. "We'll have to remember that."

Now it was one of their favorite ways to play, this sweet torture of sensation without sight, of being completely at their mercy while they took him apart piece by piece.

He slipped out of his jeans and underwear, skin prickling with anticipation. The sound of tires on gravel made his heart race, and he quickly tied the blindfold around his eyes, adjusting it until the world went dark.

The bed dipped under his weight as he settled onto his knees in the center, hands resting on his thighs.

He could hear car doors slamming, the sound of their voices carrying through the evening air, and his body responded instantly.

Three months of this, and he still reacted like a teenager every time they came home.

The front door opened and closed. Blake's voice, saying something about fixing the back fence tomorrow. Luca laughing at something, the sound carrying down the hallway.

Then footsteps. Two sets, moving through the house with purpose.

The bedroom door opened, and Cole's breath caught. He couldn't see them, but he could feel their presence, the way the air in the room shifted. The silence stretched, charged and electric, and Cole could picture them taking in the sight of him—naked, blindfolded, waiting.

"Well," Blake's voice, warm with amusement and desire. "Look what we have here."

"Someone's been thinking about us," Luca added, and Cole could hear the grin in his voice.

The bed shifted as one of them sat down—Blake, based on how carefully he moved. Hands settled on Cole's shoulders, thumbs brushing over his collarbones in a touch he'd recognize anywhere.

"Miss us?" Blake murmured, lips brushing Cole's ear.

"Always," Cole breathed, and felt Blake's quiet laugh against his skin.

Another pair of hands joined the first, rougher, more demanding. Luca. Cole melted between them, letting them position him however they wanted, trusting completely.

"So perfect," Luca growled, hands mapping Cole's chest like he was memorizing him all over again. "Always so ready for us."

They worked in the synchrony they'd perfected over months of learning each other. Luca’s fingers traced up Cole's inner thighs, feather-light touches that made him tremble. Cole knew those hands, recognized the patient way Luca built sensation layer by layer.

"That's Luca,” he whispered, and heard a low chuckle in response.

"Good boy," Luca murmured, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin just below Cole's hip bone. "What about this?"

Different hands now, rougher, more demanding. They gripped Cole's waist and pulled him forward slightly, thumbs pressing into the hollows of his hipbones with just enough pressure to make him gasp.

“Blake,” Cole breathed, and felt those hands squeeze in approval.

"Very good," Blake’s voice, rough with want. "But let's see how long you can keep track."

They began in earnest then, hands and mouths everywhere.

Blake's patient fingers mapping every inch of Cole's chest while Luca's mouth worked at his throat, teeth scraping over skin that was already marked from previous nights.

Cole tried to catalog every sensation, tried to maintain some awareness of who was touching him where.

Blake's lips found his nipple, tongue flicking over the sensitive skin in a pattern Cole had memorized weeks ago. At the same time, Luca's hands slid down his back, fingers tracing the line of his spine with possessive intent.

"Blake's mouth," Cole gasped, back arching. "Luca's hands on my—oh fuck."

"Language," Blake teased against his skin, but his voice was fond.

Then they switched, so smoothly Cole almost missed it. Luca's mouth replaced Blake's, hot and demanding, while Blake's hands settled on Cole's thighs, spreading them wider. The different techniques, the different rhythms, made Cole's head spin.

"Who's who now?" Luca asked, voice muffled against Cole's chest.

Cole tried to focus, tried to separate the sensations, but Blake chose that moment to roll his fingers against the spot just behind Cole's balls that made him see stars.

"I—I can't," Cole stammered, hands fisting in the sheets. "You're both—it's too much."

"Too much?" Blake's voice was teasing, fingers continuing their torment. "Should we stop?"

"No!" Cole's response was immediate, desperate. "Please don't stop. Never stop."

They laughed, the sound vibrating through him, and Cole felt that familiar rush of affection mixed with desire. Even like this, even when he was falling apart between them, they made him feel safe. Loved.

More touches, more kisses, until Cole lost all sense of time and place. Someone's mouth on his inner thigh, someone else's fingers tangled in his hair. Teeth scraping over his shoulder blade while hands worked between his legs with maddening precision.

"Please," he whispered, not even sure what he was asking for anymore.

"We've got you," a voice murmured—Blake, maybe, though Cole couldn't be sure. "Always got you."

Hands guided him onto his back, and Cole went willingly, blindly trusting. He felt the bed shift as one of them moved between his legs, felt careful fingers preparing him with familiar ease.

"Who do you think it is?" The question came from somewhere above him, voice thick with arousal.

Cole tried to focus, tried to analyze the touch, but then a mouth found his and he lost the ability to think at all. The kiss was deep, demanding, and definitely Luca—he could tell by the way Luca's tongue swept through his mouth, claiming and eager.

Which meant it was Blake between his legs, Blake's careful fingers working him open with the patience that was so uniquely his. Cole moaned into Luca's mouth, caught between them exactly where he belonged.

"That's it," Blake murmured, voice rough with want. "So perfect for us. Always so perfect."

When one of them finally pressed inside him, Cole's back arched off the bed, a broken cry escaping his throat. The sensation was overwhelming—heat and pressure and connection, the feeling of being claimed all over again.

They began to move then, setting a rhythm that had Cole clutching at the sheets. Strong hands were everywhere, pinning Cole's wrists above his head one moment, tracing patterns on his chest the next. The dual sensation of being held down and taken apart was intoxicating.

"Who's fucking you, baby?" Luca's voice, rough and teasing. "Tell us."

"Blake," Cole gasped, sure of this touch, this careful rhythm he'd memorized. "It's Blake."

"Correct," Blake praised, voice strained with effort. "But let's see how long that lasts."

More switching, more confusion. Sometimes fast and demanding, sometimes slow and thorough. Cole gave up trying to guess, gave up trying to maintain any awareness beyond the sensations overwhelming his body.

"That's it," a voice praised—Blake's voice, he thought, but he wasn't sure of anything anymore. "Just let us take care of you."

The switching stopped. Cole felt hands positioning him, guiding him until he was on his hands and knees. A thick cock pressed against his lips, the head already slick with precome, while another positioned itself at his entrance—larger, stretching him open with deliberate pressure.

"Just like that," Luca's voice, rough with want. "Think you can handle us both at once, sweetheart?"

Cole's answer was to open his mouth wide, taking the cock deep into his throat while pushing back desperately against the thick length breaching him from behind. The dual sensation was overwhelming—his mouth stretched around hot, hard flesh while his ass was filled completely, used thoroughly.

"Fuck, look at him," Blake growled from behind, his cock buried deep in Cole's body. "Taking us both like he was made for it."

They found a brutal rhythm together, one that had Cole trapped between them, speared on both ends.

Every powerful thrust from Blake drove Cole's mouth deeper onto Luca's cock, making him gag and choke around the thick shaft.

Every time Luca pulled back, it forced Cole harder onto Blake's cock, the stretch burning deliciously.

"Such a good mate," Blake growled, his hands gripping Cole's hips hard enough to bruise. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? Both of us using you properly?"

Cole couldn't respond, couldn't do anything but moan around the cock filling his throat.

"So perfect," Luca praised, his voice strained as he watched his cock disappear between Cole's swollen lips. "Taking it all so well. Our beautiful mate.”

Cole's own cock hung heavy and untouched between his legs, leaking steadily onto the sheets below. The rhythm built to something punishing, both of them using him exactly how they wanted, and Cole felt himself getting close just from being so thoroughly owned.

"That's it, baby," Blake growled, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his peak. He wrapped a hand around Cole's cock. "Show us how much you love being our toy."

The words sent Cole over the edge. His climax hit hard, spurting across the bed while his body clenched tight around Blake's shaft. He was rutting into Blake's hand, pushing back on his cock, moaning helplessly around Luca--

The sensation dragged both wolves after him. Blake came first, roaring as he filled Cole with his come. Luca followed seconds later, flooding Cole's mouth.

He collapsed forward when they finished, completely wrecked, dimly aware of gentle hands cleaning him up and removing his blindfold. When his vision cleared, both Blake and Luca were there, watching him with expressions so tender it made his chest ache.

"Hey," Luca said softly, brushing hair back from Cole's forehead.

"Hey yourself," Cole managed, voice shot.

Blake pressed a kiss to his shoulder, right over a mark he'd left weeks ago that had long since faded. "You okay?"

"More than okay." Cole reached for both of them, pulling them down onto the bed beside him. "I love you. Both of you. This... all of this."

"Good," Luca said simply, wrapping an arm around Cole's waist. "Because you're stuck with us."

"Forever," Blake added, settling on Cole's other side.

Cole smiled, letting his eyes drift closed. Three months ago, forever had seemed impossible. Now it felt like a promise.

"Forever sounds perfect," he murmured, and felt both of them relax against him.

Outside, the sun was setting over their territory, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink. Inside, the three of them lay tangled together in their bed, in their home, exactly where they belonged.

This was finally enough for him.