Morgan lifted himself up so that he was on his knees on the bed,
40
Marcy Jacks
and he spat into his hand, bringing his fingers down to Terry’s pucker.
Terry was still thrusting his hips, and this time, when he reached down to grip his dick, Morgan let him. “Yes, fuck me, yes,” he hissed, stroking himself as Morgan pressed his fingers inside that tight hole.
“Be patient,” Morgan said with a grunt as those fingers stroked him. He had no lube on him and didn’t have the presence of mind to go and search for any. Terry was a werewolf, he would be fine without it so long as Morgan didn’t rush too much, and the fact that they were claiming each other would make it easier as well.
Terry continued to kiss and nuzzle his jaw as Morgan fingered him, and as he expected, the other man hardly seemed to notice that there was nothing to ease the way. He was so eager to mate. He was eager to be fucked.
How long had it been since he’d had a lover? It surprised him to realize that he couldn’t pinpoint an exact time, but it had definitely been a while ago, and none of them had made him quite as wanton as Terry did.
It had to be the mate thing. This proved that they were mated.
Morgan couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed the sensation of having his fingers sucked into that warmth so much or feeling this anxious to be inside of it.
Terry was eagerly humping against his fingers now, and his fist as he worked his cock. Oddly, he was no longer staring down at himself or trying to see what Morgan was doing between his legs. Now, he was looking at Morgan’s face.
“I’m yours,” he said, though it almost sounded like a question, as though he were confirming that this was real.
“Yes,” Morgan said, removing his fingers and spitting once more into his hand. “And I’m yours.”
He stroked the saliva over himself, biting his lower lip at the sheer pleasure he felt. His eyes fell shut for a second before he opened them again and noted how pink Terry’s cheeks had become.
His hand still moved up and down over his swollen prick, and his
Mated to the Wild Omega
41
eyes were half-lidded as he watched Morgan pleasure himself.
Morgan smiled at him. There was better in store for him than just watching that.
Morgan grabbed hold of one of Terry’s ankles. “Put your legs up onto my shoulders,” he said.
Terry did as he was told, and the backs of his knees fit so nicely on Morgan’s shoulders.
“Push out when I push in,” he said, and then made one more prayer that what he’d done would be enough. Despite the werewolfstrength thing, even he hadn’t ever done this before without something to help it along.
He took hold of the base of his dick and lined the head up with Terry’s stretched pucker.
He couldn’t remember if Terry had said anything to him after that because the second Morgan started pressing himself inside, that was it. His thinking brain put a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door to his mind, and all Morgan was left with was the sheer animal pleasure and the need to ram into his mate with all the force and speed as though it was their last time as well as their first.
Terry’s fingers turned into claws and pulled on the skin of Morgan’s back, but he didn’t care, even when pain raked across his back and warm trails of blood spilled. All he could focus on was that he was balls-deep inside his mate, and he never wanted to be anywhere else but right here.
Terry moaned loudly, completely uncaring that there were other people in the house who might hear him, and Morgan soon followed with that same mentality. He pushed and pulled himself in and out of Terry’s body until the bed started to move in the same rhythm as his thrusting hips.
“You. Are. Mine. Forever,” Morgan said through gritted teeth, punctuating each word with a sharp lunge of his pelvis.
Then it happened. Though they were mated, a mated pair still needed to claim each other for everything to be complete on both
42
Marcy Jacks
ends. Otherwise there was still that little piece on both sides that remained out of sync.
Just as Morgan sped up, feeling the peak of his pleasure looming, he felt that connection between him and the man beneath him grow stronger, more solid, until there was nothing in the world that could separate them.
He kept on moving, continuing to milk himself inside Terry until his cock was finally sated, but Terry still humped desperately against him.
“Please, don’t stop. I need…”
“I’ve got you,” Morgan said, and he reached down and took hold of Terry’s still-swollen prick.
Only now that he was no longer intoxicated on his lust was he able to look down and really appreciate what he had in his hand.
Terry was long and thick, and from the looks of things, a little longer than Morgan was, but Morgan was definitely a bit thicker. Terry was also cut, unlike Morgan. Werewolves born and raised out in the wild certainly didn’t have that procedure done, so that could only mean that Terry’s lapse into the world of feral werewolves had happened more recently. A least after the last winter, judging by the way the poor kid was handling this winter on his own.
A shiver passed through Terry’s body as Morgan’s hand gripped him and then stroked up and down. It was kind of strange, the way Terry was still canting his hips against Morgan’s, while Morgan stroked his dick.
Despite how he was already so recently satisfied, a tremor passed through his body, and his heart rate and breathing picked up as his cock filled once more.
Morgan groaned and began thrusting in earnest again. He let go of Terry’s dick and braced his hands on either side of the omega’s head as he fucked the smaller man into the mattress.
It had been a while and all that, but he still didn’t expect his body to be so eager, or for Terry to be so willing, all things considered. He
Mated to the Wild Omega
43
wouldn’t question it. He wouldn’t analyze it either, not when it felt this good to have Terry’s body squeezing down on Morgan’s cock.
“Nice, that’s
nice
,” Terry said, drawing out the word so that it
sounded like
niiiiiiice
.
Morgan was gasping again, trying to keep his eyes from falling shut as he claimed his mate. He wanted to look at him. He loved the
way Terry’s face twisted in pleasure, and how his cheeks became rosy
as he was fucked.
“Touch me,” Morgan said. “Put your hands on me. Now.”
Terry did as he was told, his warm hands sliding up the muscles of Morgan’s chest, his fingers brushing and pinching his nipples. Then Terry lifted his mouth to the side of Morgan’s neck, licking and sucking with all the energy and eagerness as though he were sucking on a candy.
Then Terry’s hand shot down between them, his arm jerking hard and fast as he stroked himself. “Ughhh! I’m gonna come!”
Morgan felt the wet splash of Terry’s cum on his stomach. He liked it. He liked that his mate’s seed was on him, marking him just as much as Morgan was marking Terry.
Morgan needed another minute before he could come again, his previous orgasm making this newer one take just a little bit longer to reach. Morgan’s fingers became claws just as Terry’s had, and they punctured the mattress as Morgan fucked his mate with every ounce of strength he possessed.
He came with a roar, unable to contain that more animal side of
himself as he spilled his fluids inside of his mate.
Terry was his. Morgan would make sure to find out what had happened to put the omega in this state, and he would never allow anything like it to happen ever again.
Morgan swore he nearly dozed off. The warmth of the body beneath him and the twitter-pated mood those orgasms put him in was too much to resist.
Then a loud pounding on the door yanked him out of his almost
44
Marcy Jacks
nap.
“What is it?” Morgan called, knowing it was Nick and noting the way Terry’s eyes had gone wide and wild as he searched for the loud noise that had disturbed them.
“If you two are finished,” the other man said from behind the door. “I think the storm’s starting to pass. I can smell people outside. They have guns.”
Mated to the Wild Omega
45
Chapter Six
Terry heard the man on the other side of the door announce that there were people nearby, and everything inside him screamed at him to get up, run, hide, fight, do whatever he could do to keep from being taken away from Morgan’s arms.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he actually felt safe. Morgan’s body, his warmth, and his comforting smile all equalled safety, but there were people out there who wanted to snuff that out and take Morgan away from him.
He couldn’t let that happen. That was why, when Morgan tried to get up from where he lay, Terry reached for him, taking his wrist and stopping him from going to the door.
“Don’t go outside. They’ll find you.”
Morgan put his hand on Terry’s shoulder, that calming smile back on his face. Terry liked Morgan’s smile because it didn’t give him the chills the way it did when the others had smiled at him. There was nothing sinister or hidden in that smile. There was only honesty and
openness.
“I’ll come right back for you. Whoever those people are outside, they need to be dealt with. I don't believe they’re trying to come in here, not if they think the house is occupied.”
“But―”
“Don’t worry,” Morgan said, his hand coming on top of Terry’s head and then sliding down his neck. It felt like Morgan was petting him. He liked it. “If anything happens, I promise I’ll come back up for you right away.”
“They’re hunters,” Terry said, fighting against the feeling inside
46
Marcy Jacks
of him that was attempting to calm him.
Morgan looked away and nodded, as though he didn’t like admitting to it. “They might be, yes, but they might also just be normal hunters, out trying to catch a buck or something. We have nothing to worry about.”
There was nothing else Terry could do or say to make the other man stay with him. Despite Morgan’s gentle command for Terry to get back under the covers of the bed, he wouldn’t do it. Instead, he went to the window.
Whereas before he would have thought it was cold in here, now that his body was coming back to a regular temperature, he was comfortable.
The storm was still pretty bad outside, and he didn’t dare crack open the window, but it wasn’t nearly the white out it had been before. Terry could see that there were at least three men out there, shotguns in hand, bundled up against the cold with their orange vests and leather mitts with fur trim, hats, boots, the whole deal.
He was partly shocked that he could remember what those items were even called. There had been more than one occasion when he
ran and hunted by himself that no human thought passed through his head at all. Everything had been instinct. All Terry had wanted to do was eat and survive. Now, it was like the more human aspect to his brain was starting to work again, and all because Morgan had spoken to him and bathed him.
Maybe a hot bath, calm conversation, and good sex were some of the key ingredients that made up a human. Either way, his eyes narrowed at the sight of them.
They looked exactly like the hunters Terry had been running from, but all hunters looked the same, even the ones who hunted regular animals as opposed to werewolves and vampires.
They whispered amongst each other, and Terry couldn’t make out what they were saying, but then the back door opened and that other werewolf stepped outside and called to them.
Mated to the Wild Omega
47
This time, Terry could hear him. That probably had more to do with the volume the other man spoke with, though. “You folks all right?”
The hunters looked amongst each other. “Fine,” said the man in the middle, apparently taking the lead. “Just out on a hunting trip.”
The other werewolf, the friend of Morgan’s, must have found something to wear in one of the rooms, or maybe it was just a spare snowsuit and boots. Either way, he kept on talking with those men as though it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Bad weather for that sort of thing, isn’t it?” he asked.
“We’re good,” said the leader, nodding to him. “Sorry to have bothered you, sir. Didn’t know anyone was home.”
“That’s all right. We just got here today. You all be careful now out in this weather. It’s dangerous, and you don’t want to be getting lost.”
The hunters nodded, turned, and walked away.
The other werewolf seemed to watch them from the porch for a long while, even after the hunters vanished into the whiteout, before he turned to come back into the house.