Page 51 of Wolfgang

Wolfe tried again. “If you had turned out to be unsatisfactory… An idiot, say. Irritating to be around. I would have changed my mind, were I able. But you’re not. You…pleaseme. You’re beautiful to look at.” Wolfe smirked at Eric’s blush. “You’re also intelligent, eager, needy in a way that suits me quite well. I believe you’re also kinder than you give yourself credit for, but that doesn’t mean much to me. Except it may temper my more…aggressive instincts. And I suppose I should be grateful for that.”

Wolfe held his breath, waiting for a response. It wouldn’t be enough, would it? He wasn’t saying any of it in the right way.

But then Eric’s lips were on his, kissing him unprompted. Nothing filthy, no tongue or hungry noises. Just a soft touch of his mouth.

Eric pulled away, smiling at whatever he saw in Wolfe’s face. Their bond wasn’t exactly sweet and soft, not like before. But some of the sourness had left it. “Okay, weirdo. Take me home.”

But Eric’s strange, solemn mood still hadn’t lifted upon their return.

Wolfe found himself missing the anger, the petulance. Those he could recognize—enjoy, even. But this…subdued sorrow? If that was even the correct diagnosis for what Eric was feeling. Wolfe didn’t know. He couldn’t recognize the emotions pulsing through the bond, this new heaviness in the pit of his stomach. For possibly the first time in his extended life, Wolfe had some modicum of regret for the way he was.

He simply wasn’t equipped for emotional nuance. The best he could think of, after getting Eric settled in the sitting room, was distraction. He’d prefer the sensual kind. And though barely twelve hours had passed, it felt like it had already been too long since they’d last enjoyed the embrace of each other’s bodies.

His beast agreed.Touch our mate. Taste our mate. Fuck our mate senseless.

Talk to me when you have something new to say.But Wolfe would only have been too happy to oblige. To get down on his knees and take another taste of his mate’s cock, to help Eric lose himself in pleasure. But it was hard to believe his advances would be welcome at the moment.

It had been easier in the beginning, when Wolfe had only ever known Eric’s discontent. But he’d tasted Eric’s happiness now. He knew the contrast, and he wanted itback, damn it.

His strange need for it made him wary, more cautious with his words and actions than he was used to being. He didn’t want to set their relationship back any further.

So he brought out the book of paint samples to the sitting room. “Help me pick out colors for the main bedroom, darling.”

Eric turned from where he’d been staring into space. “Weren’t the painters already supposed to come?”

Wolfe set the samples on the coffee table, standing off to the side. “I’m afraid they were…delayed.”

“All right.” Eric leaned forward on the love seat, running through the samples more flippantly than Wolfe would have liked. “You really like green, don’t you?”

“When it’s the right green.” A dark, deep green. That of shadows dancing on a lake. Eric’s green.

Eric had barely been looking for a minute before he pointed to a selection. “Okay. This one’s good.”

It wasn’t, not at all. The paint swatch he had pointed to was all wrong. Too bright, too garish. Wolfe hummed noncommittally. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

Well. That hadn’t provided as much distraction as he’d hoped. He replaced the book with one of tile samples instead. “Now these, pet.”

Eric didn’t even glance at it. “You hunted tonight,” he said softly, staring off into space again.

“I did.”

Eric turned in his seat to look up at him. “Tell me about it.”

Wolfe hesitated, if only for a moment. Was this some excuse to feel more disgust for him? Was Eric searching for more proof that Wolfe was a monster? Too bad, if so. Wolfe had behaved impeccably.

He sat down next to his mate on the love seat, folding his hands over one crossed knee. “Let’s see. I dropped you off for dinner. I went to a nearby park, one dimly lit and out of the way—”

“I want to sit on your lap,” Eric interrupted, the words almost running together in his haste to say them.

Wolfe found himself genuinely, truly speechless.

Eric’s cheeks were flushed a dusky pink. “Nothing sexual. Just while you tell me about the hunt. I want to be sitting on your lap.”

Yes. Always.

Wolfe got ahold of himself quickly. It wouldn’t do to let Eric marinate in his embarrassment too long. “Of course, darling,” he purred, uncrossing his legs and patting his thigh.

Eric shuffled onto his lap slowly, as if he’d never done so before. He didn’t sit crosswise; he placed his back to Wolfe’s front, widening his legs to drape them over Wolfe’s. And then he did the most darling thing Wolfe had ever had the pleasure to experience: he grabbed Wolfe’s hands, dragging his arms to settle around his waist, and refolded Wolfe’s hands over his lower belly.

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