Page 157 of The Good Boys Club

And the cream pie oozing from my asshole.

So slimy and so, so gross.

The chill autumn morning sliced at any part of my skin not covered by Cian’s body. As a werewolf, I was used to being out here on the edge of the Eight and a Half Kingdoms—naked, the cold numbing my flesh—but Cian wasn’t werewolf, and he was shivering in my arms.

I waited until he roused before I peeled myself away from him.

Yesterday, before the shift, we came out to this spot with a big plastic tub in which we’d placed spare clothes, Cian’s glasses, and a vat of food. I wished we’d had enough foresight to include a towel, or toilet paper, or anything to wipe the ick from my hole.

I pulled on sweatpants and a hoodie and brought Cian his clothes. Cords—obviously—a jumper, and his mustard beanie.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I said, once he’d brushed the forest from his butt cheeks and tugged his clothes on. I yanked the lid off the plastic airtight container and immediately crammed half a schnitzel into my mouth. “Fuuuuuck,these are good.”

Of course they were good. Cian had made them.

“What’s your idea?” he said, taking a much more self-restrained nibble from his.

I sat beside him again. The moss was still damp. My sweatpants would get a wet patch, but it couldn’t possibly feel any moister down there. “Next time we should stash lube in the tub for full-moon fucking.”

“But wolves don’t have opposable thumbs.”

“No, but humans do. And you have the ability to flip back and forth between human and wolf. Doesn’t matter now if people see you as a man, does it? We’re not trying to trick them any more.”

Cian opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He had dirt on his face. He looked adorable. “Damn, that’s a very valid point. Why the fuck hadn’t I thought of it?”

“Doctor Mash strikes again.” I punched the air. “Though you could still rim me in wolf form because that felt fucking amazing.”

“Holy shit!” he shouted, almost dropping his meat. “You remember last night?”

In an instant, I was on my feet. “Fuck! Yes. I do! I remember it.”

I rewound my memories of the shift. Usually the next morning I could only remember snippets, but they’d be hazy, and they faded fast. Often, the more I chased the memory, the quicker it dissipated into nothingness.

But this time I remembered. Not everything, but I remembered . . . chunks.

“I remember the mate bites.” My hand shot to my neck to trace the imprint of Cian’s teeth. The mark tingled at my touch.

I pushed Cian’s jumper down at the collar to see his bite, perfectly framed between his tattoos. It looked like part of his ink—like a deliberate design choice. A red crescent against the sea of black swirls.

I leaned forward and lay the gentlest kiss against the scar tissue. Cian whined at the caress.

“Holy fucking fuck. You smell fucking amazing.” I closed my eyes and waited until the sudden and desperate urge to spear myself on him had ebbed.

“Do you remember the wolf sex?” he asked, as though reading my mind.

“Most of it. I don’t remember how we got to the ravine, but I know what happened once we were here. I remember getting absolutely smashed into the dirt. Hey, was it just me, or did every touch in wolf form feel magnified by a bajillion? Like it was way more intense than human sex?”

“Yes, it definitely was more intense.” Cian’s non-schnitzel-wielding hand snaked under my hoodie and traced soft circles on my hip. “But that could be because of the mate bond.”

“Probably,” I agreed.

He gave methatlook. Bit his lip and shadowed his blue eyes with furrowed brows. That was a dangerous look. “We should try fucking as humans to be sure.”

“Right now?” I was already growing hard.

“Why not? You’re alpha. You can do anything you like.” His hand slipped down into my sweatpants and teased the fur on my happy trail. “Do you remember accepting the call?”

I took only a few moments to cast my thoughts back. “I do. Wow, it was . . . weird. I can’t really describe it.”

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