Mathias obviously realized this, and he realized words weren’t the best way to accomplish it. Before Ward even knew what was going on, Mathias was setting him down on his—no, their—bed. Ward had no idea at what point his mate had carried him to the bedroom, but it didn’t really matter, because then Mathias kissed him.
The moment their mouths met, Ward allowed himself to let go, to discard the weight that had settled on him and just be. He parted his lips for Mathias’s invasion, and his mate eagerly took him up on his invitation. Their tongues dueled in a battle that neither of them won, but that they both needed, regardless. Mathias’s taste was just as addicting as ever, and now, it was also a refuge.
They’d done this so many times, kissing in bed, exploring one another with a greed born out of the ever increasingly strong connection between them. They’d been so happy. They still could be. Mathias was safe, and so was Ward. They could rebuild, start over. This, what they had here—it was genuine, true, fierce and powerful, and it would not falter.
The realization made passion and desperation rise through Ward. He clawed at Mathias’s borrowed tee, needing the material off, needing skin to skin so much it hurt. He wasn’t really successful in his endeavor, but his mate did better. Buttons popped and seams ripped as Mathias tore off Ward’s shirt. His hot hands traveled over Ward’s skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
Ward never wanted to stop kissing Mathias. If he spent the rest of his life lost in this kiss, it was fine by him. Still, when Mathias shoved him down onto the pillows, he went along with it, if only because he needed to breathe. Damn pesky oxygen, getting in the way of what he wanted. His lungs might be protesting, but he didn’t care. If Mathias didn’t touch him again soon, he’d go insane.
Thankfully, the time for waiting was over. Mathias took a few moments to tear off his own shirt, then fell upon Ward with a snarl that echoed the bright need curling inside Ward. Their mouths collided again, so viciously Ward tasted blood. Mathias’s claws took care of the rest of their clothes, and Ward remained aware enough of it to force off his shoes.
After that, everything drifted into a mess of moans, caresses, and breathless grunts. Between kisses, they whispered each other’s names, and that was probably the only thing anchoring Ward within his identity as a person. He was Mathias’s Ward, and he didn’t want to be anything different.
But instead of sating their hunger, their touches seemed to have a counterproductive effect. Mathias grew even more frantic, his clawed fingers tearing into the mattress. Ward wasn’t doing much better, dizzy with need, with the desperate more-more-more that threatened to choke him.
Did that train of thought really belong to Ward, or was it Mathias’s? Ward couldn’t really tell. He just knew something was different about the two of them. The wolf-man Mathias had unleashed was still there, underneath the surface, making his mate’s instincts stronger, hungrier.
Just as this realization dawned, Mathias suddenly gripped his wrists and pinned his arms over his head. His handsome features were twisted into a snarl that should have been threatening, but somehow came out pained. His cheekbones seemed sharper somehow, and his previously smooth skin was covered in a dusky layer of hair. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, and his voice came out in a growl, barely human.
“You won’t,” Ward assured his mate, his heart hammering not in fear, but in arousal. “I trust you.”
And he did trust Mathias, beyond anything and anyone he’d ever known. No matter what shape Mathias took, his soul was the same, and it recognized and knew Ward in a way that could never be denied or forgotten.
As expected, his trust was not misplaced, because Mathias didn’t shift further. He took a deep breath, and the wild litany buzzing at the back of Ward’s mind seemed to calm a little. That was a good thing, because Ward really wanted to make love to his mate, and he wasn’t sure he was compatible with the wolf-man. The spirit might have been willing, but the flesh was weak, and it hadn’t skipped Ward’s attention that Mathias’s middle form had been remarkable in size... everywhere. Ward might have gotten used to a regular and enthusiastic sex life, but even he was not ambitious enough to try his hand—or his ass—at a cock that was so big.
In the end, he didn’t have to, because Mathias released Ward’s wrists. Some sort of instinct made Ward keep them in place, and he waited patiently while his lover found the lubricant. As Mathias uncapped the tube, Ward spread his legs, wordlessly encouraging Mathias to take what he—no, what they both—craved.
He was rewarded by a low, appreciative growl, an animalistic sound that swept over him like a caress. Magic pulsed through their connection, awakening every atom in Ward’s body, making him even more aware of Mathias’s presence, of his strength, his scent, his heartbeat. He couldn’t help but whimper at the sensations. “Please. I need you, Mat—“
He didn’t get to finish the phrase, because his mate was already thrusting two slick fingers inside him. They were no longer clawed, but neither did they feel completely human either. The delicious disconnect fed the flame of Ward’s desire, because if there was any particular moment when Ward truly felt closest to Mathias, it had to be this one.
Ward wouldn’t have deemed it possible, not after everything they had shared already, but there it was. He hadn’t realized it until now, but a part of Mathias had always been shut to him, and maybe to Mathias himself. No longer. Everything was wide open between them—no more barriers, no more secrets.
It was nearly overwhelming to think about, so Ward didn’t think. He just felt, surrendered to his needs and his instincts, just like Mathias did. His decision encouraged Mathias, and if he’d thought his lover’s previous ministrations had been passionate, they were nothing compared to what happened next.
The world became of blur of kisses pressed to every inch of skin within Mathias’s reach. He moved so fast that Ward’s senses had trouble registering it. One moment, his free hand was tweaking Ward’s nipple, and the next it was on his cock. His mouth trailed over Ward’s body so quickly that he truly seemed to have more than one. On occasion, the kisses were replaced by sharp, biting nips, and the slight pain somehow translated into feverish ecstasy, Ward’s confused nerve endings unable to tell the difference.
All the while, Mathias crooked his fingers inside Ward, mercilessly working his prostate. Soon, Mathias had him practically in tears. He’d tried to keep his wrists up like before, but he couldn’t muster enough control for it, and he reached out for his mate, clinging to Mathias’s shoulders in the hope of finding an anchor, something that would keep him from shattering or falling apart in a world that was quickly dissipating around him.
His touch had an unexpected side-effect. It almost seemed to flick a switch inside Mathias, because the next thing he knew, the man was flipping Ward on all fours on the bed. Ward didn’t really want to lose sight of his mate’s face, and it didn’t help that Mathias’s fingers had abandoned his body as well. He tried to catch his breath, to find a way to convey that message—but as it turned out, he didn’t have to.
Mathias’s large hands landed on his hips, holding him in place. The head of his dick nudged Ward’s hole, and it might have been Ward’s impression but it seemed a bit bigger than before—maybe not wolf-man big, but definitely different in a way that Ward would feel.
He wasn’t afraid. If he could have, he’d have pushed his ass out to show that, but he was effectively pinned to the bed. Instead, he relaxed, allowing Mathias to take the lead.
For all his savage instincts, Mathias didn’t rush him. When he pushed inside Ward, he did so slowly, giving Ward time to adjust. Ward still couldn’t help a pained hiss, but the burn came with the pleasure only Mathias could give him. That thick shaft seemed to be spearing him in two, but it also showered him with a sense of belonging that was almost transcendental.
Ward felt every single inch of Mathias’s dick, so hot it branded him from the inside out. He clenched his fists in the sheets, desperately needing to come, but not quite able to reach that point. By the time Mathias was fully embedded inside him, balls flush against Ward’s ass cheeks, Ward was having real trouble withstanding all the emotions and sensations that flourished within their bond.
A murmur sounded in his ear, or perhaps in his mind.“Ward... My mate.”
“Yours,” Ward whispered back.
As if on a cue, Mathias pulled out of Ward and pushed back in, so hard his teeth rattled. He hit Ward’s prostate dead on, and all thought processes came to a halt. Colors rushed to the forefront of his mind, the perfection, the beauty, the ecstasy painting his consciousness in a dazzling kaleidoscope. He wasn’t a painter anymore, and instead, he’d become the canvas. With each of Mathias’s masterful thrusts, another burst of color and bliss exploded over him, mingling with it all, blending with the rest of the rainbow.
And beyond it—or perhaps within it—Ward saw the wolf. He heard the beast howl in triumph as Mathias claimed him. He welcomed it, embracing Mathias’s animal side just like he had many times before, when one of them had sought comfort.
It was too intense—good, painful, mind-melting, the fear mingling with the relief and the anger being swept away by the love. Ward didn’t think it could get any better, until Mathias buried his fangs in Ward’s throat.