Page 9 of Caught

Silas growled again, but this time it wasn’t menacing. It was… satisfied. A pleased sound.

And then, before Evan could react, Silas leaned back in and nipped at his jaw, teeth grazing his skin in a way that sent a shock of heat straight to Evan’s groin.

Evan couldn’t hold it back. A breathless whimper slipped past his lips, terrified. But that terror morphed into something else as Silas’ mouth moved lower, tracing the line of his throat.

A shudder wracked Evan’s frame, his body trembling beneath the weight of the werewolf. His mind was a mess—confusion, fear, heat, desire—all of it tangled up into a wild storm.

His body was betraying him, responding to the raw power that radiated off Silas.Focus, Evan. Focus. Get it together…

He tried to squirm, to fight back, but his muscles felt like they were made of paper. Silas’ weight kept him trapped beneath him, the werewolf’s strength a wall he couldn’t break through.

Then Silas did something that made Evan’s blood run hot. His hips shifted, and Evan gasped as the werewolf ground against him.

He was hard.

Jesus...

The heat from Silas’ body seared through Evan’s clothes, his arousal unmistakable against his own. Every inch of Evan’s body reacted, his skin burning where they touched, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might explode.

Evan’s hands shot up to Silas’ chest, uncertain if he was trying to push him away or pull him closer. His fingers fumbled against the hard, heated muscle, the sheer size of Silas overwhelming him.

This isn’t me. I don’t want this.But Evan’s body told a different story. It betrayed him in the most visceral way, responding with heat, with need. His pulse thudded in his veins, the pulse in his hardening cock a thumping rhythm that matched the erratic beat of his heart.

Evan's eyes darted frantically around the dark forest, searching for an escape route, but Silas' strength and weight held him firmly in place.

He knew what a werewolf wanted from a human tonight. There was no way out of it.

But maybe there was a way to… delay it.

Evan’s breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as his mind raced. Silas was already hard—achinglyhard. Evan could feel the thick, throbbing heat pressing insistently against him, straining, eager.

His stomach clenched. If he played this right, if he gave Silassomething…maybe he wouldn’t have to takeeverything.Maybe he could get Silas off, let him spill his release elsewhere, and spare himself from the brutal stretch of that monster cock.

It was a risk. A gamble.

But it was the only chance he had.

With a hard swallow, Evan, trembling, mustered the courage to reach down and wrap his fingers around Silas’ throbbing cock.

Chapter five

Evan

The werewolf groaned, a low, guttural sound that sent a dark thrill down Evan’s spine. His hips jerked instinctively, driving his thick length harder into Evan’s grip. The sudden, desperate motion sent a shiver through Evan’s body, but he didn’t dare pull back. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the sheersizeof it—the way Silas’ cock pulsed with heat, the weight of it heavy in his palm, the smooth, silken skin stretching tight over steel-hard arousal.

A bead of slickness gathered at the tip, smearing warm and wet across Evan’s fingers as he gave an experimental squeeze. Silasshuddered, a full-body tremor, his powerful frame going tense as a sharp exhale left his lips, brushing hot and damp against Evan’s exposed throat.

Evan swallowed hard, his pulse hammering, his senses drowning in the heat and scent of him: wild, feral, overwhelming. Silas’ panting breaths came faster as he thrustforward into Evan’s grip, his cock sliding through the tight circle of fingers, slick and eager.

Good.That was…good. Silas was reacting, losing himself in it. If Evan just kept up the slow, deliberate strokes—twisting his wrist, dragging his thumb over the sensitive ridge—maybe this would be enough. Maybe Silas would give in to pleasure, spill his release into Evan’s hand, and be satisfied with that.

Maybe Evan could walk away from this after all.

Evan’s hands moved without thinking, instinctively finding the rhythm. He stroked, squeezed and slow, deliberate, and Silas’ growls were low and guttural, rumbling through his chest with each jerk of Evan’s wrist.

His hands were shaking, but he didn’t stop. The heat of Silas’ body against his skin was almost too much to handle, and yet, he couldn’t pull away. His mind screamed at him, a voice he knew well—the one that told him to keep pretending, to keep denying.

You’re straight. You’ve always been straight.

---