Page 95 of Taming His Vampire Mate

“There’s a good boy,” I praised. “You like having my fingers in there, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he groaned. “Yes. Jeremy, please.”

“One more finger, then I’ll be inside you. Can you wait just a moment longer?”

Thierry nodded wildly, then gasped as I slid in a third digit. His eyes shut again, teeth catching his lip.

When I was convinced it would be only pleasure and no pain for him, I pulled my fingers free carefully.

He let out a soft, anguished sound.

I coated my aching cock with lube, adding more than necessary. Then I positioned myself behind him, lined up the head with his entrance, and—

Thierry bucked back, taking me to the hilt in one go.

My eyes widened, a groan escaping as his slick, wet heat enveloped me.

A sound halfway between a moan and a sigh spilled from Thierry’s lips.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he said. “Your cock feels like heaven inside me.”

I froze, not wanting to hurt him—though every instinct, man and wolf, screamed at me to thrust, to bury myself as deep as I could.

“Do it,” Thierry said. “I’m not breakable, Jeremy. Fuck me. Take me apart. Make it rough.”

Those words unleashed something primal. With a low growl, I threaded one arm under his torso, grabbing his shoulder to keep him still. His back was flat and warm against me, our bodies pressed together, his scent surrounding me. And then I thrust, rutting into him.

Thierry moaned. “Yeah, just like that.”

After that, I was gone. Holding him still, I drove into him again and again, reveling in the tight heat, the slick, almost-too-much pleasure that had me on the edge from the start.

He gave needy cries and broken moans as I fucked him, and I gave myself over wholly to the animal urge to make him mine. To make him belong tomeand no one else.

When I felt myself getting close, I reached down, wrapped my hand around his cock—still hard and leaking—and stroked him.

Thierry’s moans sharpened into gasps as I increased my pace. The orgasm tore through me. I shot deep inside him. Moments later, he cried out and spilled into my hand.

When it was over, I pulled out gently. Dream or not, I could still hurt him if I wasn’t careful. He let out a soft cry of dismay, like he hated losing the sensation of me deep inside him.

I lay back on our shirts, watching him. I half expected attitude—something tawdry or snarky to break the intimacy. Some attempt to undo what had just happened.

He didn’t say a word.

Instead, he lay down next to me, curled against my side with his head on my chest, one arm slung over me. Then his eyes slid shut.

He smiled faintly, letting out a pleased sound. “My beautiful wolf,” he whispered.

Then he went right to sleep, secure and safe in my arms.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX || THIERRY

My very first thought when I opened my eyes was of Jeremy. And based on the soft, fluttery feeling in my chest—conjured by the memory of his touch—I knew I was in serious trouble.

It was late in the day by the time I woke. The sunlight seeping through the edges of my heavy curtains had a distinctly grayish tint, which meant another gloriously overcast day in Seattle. One of the many perks of the Pacific Northwest was that vampires—even younger ones—could keep a fairly normal routine eight months out of the year, thanks to the near-constant cloud cover.

I glanced at my alarm clock and my eyes widened. Nearly four in the afternoon. I’d been asleep for thirteen hours. Vampires don’t require as much sleep as mortals, and that need lessens with age.

The wolf was a terrible influence.