Page 94 of Taming His Vampire Mate

I laid both shirts on the snow as a makeshift bed. It was a dreamscape—the snow wouldn’t be cold, not if we didn’t want it to be.

Then I hesitated. What if this wasn’t what he wanted?

“I want to,” Thierry said fiercely, locking gazes with me. “It might be rushing things, but I don’t care. Jeremy, Iwantto.”

He stepped forward, hands on my chest, palms tracing my muscles. My eyes slid shut with pleasure. His touch feltso fucking good. Smooth and warm, with the confidence of centuries behind it.

Then his hands dipped lower, encircling my aching cock, and my eyes snapped open. Somehow, we were both naked.

Thierry gave me a mischievous grin. “I have eight centuries of life experience, wolf. I’ve had my fair share of lucid dreams. If I want the clothing gone, it’s gone.”

Bathed in silver moonlight, his pale, lithe body gleamed almost as white as the snow. Lean muscles were taut beneath his skin, like a swimmer’s or a dancer’s. He seemed like he belonged here, more Fae than vampire.

He eyed me with a hunger that should have made me wary, but instead left me feeling utterly desired. Wanted.Needed.

And I craved him too. I ached to be inside him. To feel the hot, wet tightness of him around me. To draw strangled moans from his lips. To feel his body submit deliciously to mine.

Then he dropped to his knees, wrapped one hand around the base of my cock, and took me into his mouth, all the way down to the hilt.

I let out a startled cry.

Apart from my first encounter with Thierry in the woods, I had been celibate since Ian. I’d forgotten how fucking good it felt. Better now, because it was him. My inner wolf urged me to take him, to claim him, to make him ours.

He bobbed up and down, his warm, wet lips sliding over my aching shaft, and my eyes rolled back in my head. His tongue swirled over my tip, dragging a strangled growl from my throat.

I threaded my hands into his hair and rutted into his mouth, losing any semblance of control, letting the animal in me take over.

Thierry worked his own cock while I thrust into his mouth.

When I got close, I eased him off me. We were going to finish together, with me buried deep inside him. Not before.

“Get on your hands and knees,” I ordered.

Thierry surprised me by obeying without question. His ass was round and perfect, and I dropped low enough to see his beautiful rosebud of a hole. With one hand on each cheek, I spread him open and laved at him with my tongue. He bucked against me, letting out a strangled, needy moan.

“Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s like it’s my first time.”

I hummed at that and set to work with my tongue—first circling his entrance and dragging a steady stream of profanity from him, then dipping inside, loosening him gently before pushing deeper. His swears dissolved into incoherent moans. His cock was still rock-hard between his legs, but neither of us touched it.

When he was relaxed enough, I pulled back and reached into the snow beside us. A bottle of lube was there, waiting—because I wanted it to be. I popped the lid with a soft snick and poured some into my hand.

I used the pad of my thumb first, smearing it over his entrance, then coated my index finger.

“Please fuck me, Jeremy,” Thierry gasped. “I can take it.”

“I’m not hurting you just to satisfy my lust. If it doesn’t feel just as good for you, we’re not doing it.”

Thierry muttered something incoherent about wolves, but bucked again when I slid my forefinger into him. The warmth and velvety tightness of him were intoxicating.

“You doing okay?”

“Yes,” he moaned, backing onto my finger, fucking himself with it. His eyes slid shut. “Yes.”

I grinned, watching his unselfconscious neediness, the pleasure he took in being opened. My cock jerked, and my inner wolf growled, hungry to get him ready so we could take him, make him say our name, draw those pleasure-noises from his lips. So our mate would know he belonged to us and only us.

I slid in a second finger.

He bit his lip, letting me loosen him.