Page 60 of Wolfgang

He sounded hopeful—content, even. Wolfe stroked his hair while Eric plotted, and their bond pulsed, soft and sweet once again.

Wolfe hadn’t lied when he’d told Eric he hadn’t been unhappy before. But he supposed the truth was he hadn’t been happy either. He hadn’t known the difference.

He knew the difference now.

“So am I, like, your prized possession? Is that how you think of me?”

Wolfe mulled the question over as he soaped Eric’s broad shoulders. The large ledge of the tub allowed Wolfe to sit out of the water with his back to the wall, his calves bracketing his mate as he bathed him. The edge of his robe was damp with bathwater, but it was hard to mind.

Was Eric his possession? Eric washis; that was certain. His to have, his to protect, his to cherish. But Wolfe had no doubts Eric was also his own person, one with thoughts and feelings and opinions. He’d made them known well enough in their time together.

“Does the thought displease you?” he asked, rinsing his hands and reaching for the shampoo.

“I don’t know.” Eric sighed with contentment as Wolfe started to lather up his hair. “You seem to take really good care of your possessions.”

Wolfe smirked. “And you wish to be cared for, don’t you, darling?”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“I don’t know that I do.”

Wolfe didn’t need Eric to coddle him, to soothe him, to bathe him like this. He just needed Eric to…exist. To be there, at Wolfe’s side. And perhaps to allow Wolfe to do those things for him, allow him to take delight in pleasing him.

But Eric seemed to take it another way. “You don’t want me to love you?” he asked, uncertainty lacing his tone.

The question took Wolfe by surprise. “I understand it could be difficult to.”

Eric hummed noncommittally, playing with the soap bubbles as Wolfe rinsed his head. Wolfe’s beast shifted restlessly, agitated by the turn in the conversation. Now that Eric had brought it up…

Wolfe did his best to keep his voice mild and unconcerned, despite what Eric may have been able to feel through the bond. “What does it mean to you, darling? Romantic love.”

“Oh fuck, I don’t know. I don’t have any experience of it. I guess…” Eric paused as Wolfe worked conditioner into his strands. “I guess it’s wanting that person safe and happy. And then feeling safe and happy with them too. Wanting to be around them all the time. Considering their needs like you do your own. But also wanting to touch them and hold them and sex them up. Like, attraction mixed with care?”

Attraction mixed with care? Was it really so simple? Some elementary equation?

Wolfe’s breath caught as Eric tilted his head back, those dark-green eyes fixed on his. “I can feel it, you know,” Eric murmured. “A softening to the way you feel about me, compared to before. It’s still obsessive and…intense. But it’s also changed. There’s care there, I think.”

Now it was Wolfe’s turn to hum noncommittally, as he motioned for Eric to turn around and let Wolfe rinse the conditioner. “The painters come this afternoon.”

“For real this time?”

Wolfe could feel Eric’s smirk, even with his head turned away. “Mm. I believe we’ll finish the en suite in the next few days. And then we’ll move in there. The both of us.”

As far as tests of loyalty went, it was a ridiculous one. But for the first time in his life, Wolfe found himself wanting reassurance. He waited, his muscles held tense, for Eric to protest, to insist on remaining in his own, separate room.

But Eric just leaned more firmly against Wolfe’s legs, his wet torso hot from the bathwater. “Yeah, sounds good. And then maybe the den thing? I know you were teasing me about fucking me over couch cushions and stuff, but it didn’t sound so bad. Like, a comfy space. Not the fucking.” He paused, cocking his head. “But also yeah, the fucking too.”

Ridiculous. As if Wolfe had beenjokingabout fucking Eric over couch cushions. And Eric may have slyly not mentioned the cock warming, but Wolfe hadn’t forgotten Eric’s hitch of embarrassed breath at the thought of it.

There would be time to explore that later.

“We can make you a room,” Wolfe agreed. “And I may put a desk in there for myself,” he added, once again keeping his voice light.

How much will you let me invade, pet? How much space will you try to claim?

Eric just shrugged those delectably broad shoulders, blowing bubble foam into the air. “Yeah, sure. But you have to agree to some atrocious-looking, extra-comfortable leather office chair. To match the vibes. No embroidered fabric allowed.” And then Eric was laughing again, a deep chuckle, clearly pleased with his vision. With his orders.

Something unclenched in Wolfe, deep in the dark recesses of his soul. He should have known his needy mate wouldn’t mind Wolfe near, but there’d been…a light concern, perhaps. With the bond solidifying, without that instability, Eric could take more space if he wanted to. Only, Wolfe no longer wanted him to have that space. Not even an inch.

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