Page 27 of Stalked

He leaned down, teeth grazing the tender spot where Toby's neck met his shoulder. The mating bite spot. His mouth watered at the thought of marking this boy forever.

"But I need to hear you say it," Mason whispered against hot skin. "Need to know you understand what this means."

No casual fuck. No one-night stand. This was forever.

Toby's fingers dug into Mason's shoulders, blunt nails leaving crescent marks as another thrust sent him sliding against the forest floor.

"Do you want my knot, Toby?" Mason asked, his voice a low, possessive rumble. Every muscle in his body strained with the effort of holding back.

Toby's eyes locked with his, clear and certain despite the haze of pleasure.

"Yes," he breathed.

That single word shattered the last of Mason's restraint.

He growled—a sound no human throat could make—and shifted his weight, pinning Toby more firmly beneath him. The sight of Toby spread out beneath him, flushed and wanting, sent a surge of possessiveness through Mason's chest that bordered on painful.

The first push met resistance, Toby's body tensing despite how thoroughly Mason had opened him up. The tight ring of muscle clenched, refusing the intrusion.

Toby's breath hitched. "It's too much—"

The words sent a dark thrill up Mason's spine. Too much. Too big. The primal part of him preened at Toby's reaction, at the knowledge that no one had ever filled this boy like he was about to.

"You can take it," Mason said, his voice rough with barely contained need. He reached between them, wrapping his hand around Toby's cock, stroking in time with the gentle pressure against his entrance.

Toby's body yielded slightly, allowing the very tip of Mason's knot to breach him. The sensation made Mason's vision blur at the edges, pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. Just that small victory—the first inch of his knot slipping in—had him fighting for control. "That's it," he hissed, muscles trembling with the effort of holding back. "Open for me."

Toby's eyes were wide with a mixture of apprehension and arousal, his lips parted on shallow breaths. Mason couldn't look away from that face—couldn't miss a single flicker of emotion as he claimed his mate completely.

With a final, determined thrust, the widest part of Mason's knot breached Toby's entrance, locking them together with a wet, obscene sound that echoed in the quiet forest.

"Fuck!" Toby cried out, his back arching off.

Mason felt his control slipping. The sensation of Toby's body gripping him like a vise, the tight heat squeezing his sensitive knot—it was overwhelming. His vision sharpened, his hearing focused until all he could hear was the rapid pounding of Toby's heart and his own ragged breathing.

He stayed still for a moment, letting Toby adjust, letting himself adjust. The urge to move, to thrust, to claim was nearly unbearable. But he wouldn't hurt this boy. This precious creature who had given himself so completely.

Gradually, Toby's breathing steadied. His body relaxed incrementally around Mason's intrusion, the death grip on Mason's knot easing just enough to allow movement. He shifted experimentally, drawing a hiss from Mason as the movement sent jolts of pleasure straight up his spine.

It was the only invitation Mason needed.

He rolled his hips in a tight, controlled grind that forced his knot directly against Toby's prostate. Christ, the way Toby's body clenched around him, the way those blue eyes went unfocused with each thrust—Mason could get drunk on those reactions alone.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

His wolf was relentless now, the primal voice in his head no longer content to be silenced. Each breathless sound that escaped Toby's lips fed the beast's satisfaction.

"Fucking perfect," Mason growled, watching his cock disappear into Toby's body, seeing how stretched and pink Toby's rim was around the base of his knot. "Taking my knot like you were made for it."

The tight, wet heat surrounding him was beyond anything Mason had experienced. Every tiny movement—even Toby's quickened breathing—tugged at his knot, sending sparks of electric pleasure up his spine and through his balls.

Toby writhed beneath him, trying to get more, trying to take him deeper though there was nowhere else to go. Mason was already buried as deep as physically possible, their bodies fused into one.

His wolf howled in triumph. This wasn't just a claiming. This was completion.

Mason's thrusts grew sharper, more desperate, his control slipping with each roll of his hips. His knot swelled impossibly larger, stretching Toby to the very limit of what his body could take. The pressure building at the base of his spine was unbearable, his balls drawing up tight as his orgasm approached with unstoppable force.

There were no words now. Just biology. Instinct. The oldest claim in the world.

---