Page 12 of Lost Mate

“If your boss doesn’t arrest me.”

“Eli’s not a cop,” Ross pointed out, “and he’s your boss too.”

“So he says,” Dylan grumbled.

The conversation had gone down a grim path in a space that was meant to be just theirs. Ross cupped Dylan’s jaw and kissed him tenderly. “Worry about that later. In here, it’s just us.” He smoothed out the lines between Dylan’s darker brows.

Dylan sighed too. “Make me yours.”

‘I am yours,” Ross said simply. He hadn’t known Dylan existed this time yesterday and now he envisaged the rest of their lives together.

Ross traced one hand down his mate’s lean muscled body, feeling the soft body hair tickle his palm, getting thicker as it followed a line down his belly to the tight curls around his half-hard cock.

Dylan’s wolfy musk aroused him beyond anything he’d known. He’d always loved the strong, heady smells of men, particularly when they were aroused. Sweat-covered men after sport drove him wild. The high school locker room years had been especially difficult, not wanting to give himself away.

“You’re thinking of jocks now?” Dylan asked, an edge to his voice.

“I’m sorry. Train of thought,” Ross confessed. “I was obsessing over your scent again.”

“Mates are meant to be attracted to each other by their scents.” Dylan sounded happier but Ross knew he had work to do to mollify his mate.

Dylan let out a long breath as Ross licked over his nipples and wrapped a hand around his dick. “Feels so good,” he crooned.

Ross jacked him slowly, feeling his shaft thicken, velvet over iron, watching Dylan’s leg muscles tense and his toes curl in time to the slow stroke of his cock.

“Fuck,” Dylan breathed out, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. A flush spread up his chest, his neck, and his face.

He was everything Ross had ever wanted in his bed. But this was better, this was his mate.

“Stop. Thinking.”

Ross found himself on his back, Dylan straddling his hips, glaring down at him, a storm brewing in his expression.

“It’s like having a constant conversation in my head. You never shut up. You’ve got one job to do here, mister, and that’s to fuck me senseless.”

Ross saluted him. “Yessir.”

Dylan rolled his eyes. “Ass.”

“Yours.” Ross tapped said ass in encouragement and Dylan obliged.

It wasn’t the most graceful move but as Dylan slid down Ross’s cock to seat himself, Ross really didn’t care. All he wanted was to be sheathed by that wolfy ass…human ass…whatever.

“You feel so good,” he managed.

“You fill me up.”

Ross held Dylan’s hips and arched up. “Ride me, my wolf.”

Dylan rode him like he was a winning Derby horse.

All he needed was a flogger.

Wait, whose thought was that? Ross was sure it wasn’t his. He looked up to see Dylan smirking at him.

“I’m going to have you,” he growled.

“Yes, now, do it.”

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