Page 30 of Tempting Jupiter (Arena Dogs #2)

Seneca’s fists ached, but he couldn’t stop hitting the training target.

The tension inside him had to go somewhere.

He’d found a surprisingly well-equipped training room on the main level.

The gear looked very different from the blunted swords, metal shields, and staffs he’d trained with on Roma.

He did recognize the square of striking surface, surrounded by sensor readouts.

On Roma they trained for the primitive and deadly weapons of Old Earth, but Master Owens spared no expense on technical gadgets to improve their strength and battle skills.

Jupiter entered the room on softly thudding bare feet. “You’ll overload that target’s circuits, if you don’t give it a rest. Maybe you need something else to hit for a while.”

Seneca threw one more punch, then met Jupiter’s gaze. “You want to take the target’s place?”

“Whatever you need, Sen.” Jupiter held his arms out to the side, as if he might be waiting for an embrace. No. He wasn’t waiting for that. He was offering himself up as a more satisfying striking target.

A flash of violence ripped through Seneca, and he had to hold himself still until the urge to punch Jupiter’s treasured face faded. “There’s safety gear,” he offered instead.

Jupiter’s eyebrows lifted. Seneca shrugged.

The bigger Dog’s eyes lit as he charged right at him in a sloppy move more play than training.

Jupiter tackled him around the middle and carried them both to the ground.

Seneca didn’t want playful. He wanted to pound and be pounded on.

He needed to numb the pain. Not the pain in his hands, the ache lodged firmly under his ribs.

The large organ that pumped blood through his heated body had become an open wound.

The sound of Jupiter’s howl when he’d joined with Feeona had stabbed him with more force that he’d expected.

He slammed a fist into Jupiter’s ribs and was rewarded with a small grunt of pain.

Seneca pressed the advantage, twisting beneath Jupiter and landing another firm blow a few centimeters from the first.

Jupiter let him twist, pushing with the motion. The world flipped and Seneca’s back hit the training floor with a loud thump. Jupiter pressed Seneca’s body against the floor. The heavy masculine weight of Jupiter over him, the hip pressed against his groin, dug into Seneca like a rusty spoon.

“Fuck,” Seneca grunted and bucked then reached for Jupiter’s head, trying to get some purchase.”

Jupiter didn’t budge. “What’s eating you, my friend?”

“I’m fine,” he growled back, still trying to dislodge his pack-mate.

“Then why did you leave the bed to come hammer away at training targets?”

Seneca snarled. “We’re free now brother. A Dog should have his female to himself the first time he claims her as mate.”

Jupiter’s concentration broke. Seneca was ready. He threw Jupiter off and leapt into a defensive stance. He waited for the next attack, muscles vibrating with tension. When nothing came, he realized the Dog had gotten to his feet, but stood still, jaw slack.

“A mate claim?” Jupiter shook his head.

Seneca wanted to roll his eyes. The Dog operated on instinct and had rarely studied his own feelings. “Don’t be too worried. The two of you fit.” And that was what was shredding his guts most of all.

Seneca didn’t wait for a reply. He took Jupiter down in a clean efficient move. Now that he’d said it out loud, it seemed he could manage the emotions better. He grinned as he pinned the bigger Dog beneath him. “We’re even now.”

“Not even.” Jupiter reversed the pin with a show of brute strength.

Seneca couldn’t move. Jupiter had him pinned tight.

He knew his best move was to relax. Stop struggling.

But fuck. He could feel Jupiter all over him, his broad chest crushing him.

His scent and the smell of sex filling his nose.

Jupiter wasn’t aroused. No doubt Feeona had sated him.

Seneca wanted to slide his knee up to press gently against Jupiter’s balls.

Just to see if he could change that. Jupiter’s powerful thighs, locked tight against him, wouldn’t allow him to move a centimeter closer to that temptation.

Seneca hated how easy it would be to get off.

The grip of Jupiter’s strong hands holding his wrists above his head screamed sex to his corrupt mind.

It would only take one or two thrusts up against the Dog who had no idea how often he played center stage in Seneca’s thoughts.

The one thing Jupiter couldn’t miss was the iron length of his dick, pressed tight between them.

Jupiter chuckled low in the back of his throat. “You wouldn’t be so uncomfortable now if you’d stuck around in bed a little longer.”

Seneca growled. His dick had only gotten harder with Jupiter’s laugh. “Let me up, damn it.”

“Serves you right for that mate crap you used on me.”

That reminder should have done more to dampen his over sensitized nerves. His vision dimmed and he realized he was breathing too fast, too hard, without getting any air. Hyperventilating.

Jupiter released his wrists then pulled him up and forward. “Fuck, Sen. Calm down.”

Seneca couldn’t think, he was drenched in sweat and shivering. Jupiter moved around him, never losing contact, never giving him the break he so desperately needed.

“You’re okay.” Jupiter pressed up against his back. Not restraining now. Chafing his arms and murmuring softly. “Breathe slow. In and out. That’s it.”

Seneca responded, in spite of himself. Obeying an alpha. Following the guidance of the Dog he trusted most in the universe. The concern, the love in Jupiter’s voice, soothed him. This was the love Jupiter could offer. It had been enough for him before. It would be enough again.

He cleared his throat of panic’s leftover tension. “I wasn’t … joking.”

“Don’t try to talk.”

Seneca looked over his shoulder. “I’m okay. But you, my friend, are in love.”

Jupiter’s face twisted in a half frown, half grin. “Maybe.”

“Definitely.” Seneca ran his tongue over his parched lips.

Jupiter’s mouth stretched into a full, beautiful grin. “If it’s true, you have even more reason to stay in our bed.”

The pack bond. It was the way of the packs. He stifled a sigh. At least he’d managed to distract Jupiter from his own inconvenient distress and the undeniable fact that his own heart was breaking.