Microsoft Word - Jacks-Marcy-Hunted-and-on-the-Run.doc by Owner (best books for students to read .TXT) 📗

this hurt?” John asked, but from the look on his face as he watched his fingers disappearing into Storm’s asshole, it appeared as though he wouldn’t hear any response Storm had to give.

Maybe he only asked to take his mind off the lust that consumed him.

“Not anymore,” Storm said. “Burns a little. Be careful on your third finger, though. That one will hurt slightly, but I’ll be fine,” he added quickly.

It looked like John was passed the point of no return when it came to what they were doing. The alpha probably wouldn’t be able to stop even if he wanted to, but Storm didn’t want to risk that he would.

He moaned out loud when John’s fingers pushed against his prostate.

John’s head snapped up from what he was looking at to see Storm’s face.

Storm’s back arched, and he was now humping against John’s fingers. His grip tightened on his dick, and without wanting to, he found his hand moving, stroking, teasing.

John smiled and thrust his fingers in deep once more. This time Storm was able to bite down his moan, but he still squeezed his eye shut.

“Fuck, you look so fucking good. I can’t wait to fuck you,” John said.

That was a lot of fucks in one sentence. Storm managed to open his eye, even as John continued to thrust his fingers inside of him, adding a third as he did so. John’s eyes were gold. Yes, the most animal side of himself was definitely in command here.

“Get out of your jeans. I’m ready. Fuck me,” Storm commanded.

If he had to wait anymore to get John’s cock inside his pucker, then he would die.

John’s fingers slipped out of him, a little too quickly, and Storm’s 42

Marcy Jacks

body stiffened at the shock of pain. He couldn’t blame John for not noticing as he frantically struggled with the button and fly of his jeans. His jeans fit him much better than the ones Storm was wearing, even though they were still a little damp, so John managed to kick them off with less fuss than Storm had used.

He positioned himself, taking hold of his cock and lining it up with Storm’s entrance, and then he thrust inside.

John stiffened and moaned, and Storm felt the sudden warm surge of fluids spurting into him before John was fully sheathed inside.

“Fuck!” he snapped, face twisting in anger at himself.

Storm stroked his hair with his free hand. He doubted any words of “you simply need more practice” or “it will be better next time”

would have the desired effect, so he said nothing.

He brought John’s face down and captured his lips instead. Storm began stroking himself as they kissed, figuring he would get himself off like that, but John quickly put his hand down to stop him.

“Don’t worry, just give me another ten seconds,” he said.

Storm was about to ask him what he meant to do when he felt John’s shaft slowly thicken inside him, inflating and hardening.

His eyes widened in surprise. “That is…I can’t believe it!” He’d always known werewolves had amazing stamina, but this was ridiculous.

John chuckled. “I know. It’s a gift.”

Storm would have said something about his cockiness, but his words twisted into a garbled moan when John thrust his pelvis.

“Yes!” he cried out in a hiss, and then released his knee to rest on John’s shoulder. “Just like that!”

John was back to rutting against him like a, well, like a virgin, but Storm didn’t care. This was exactly what he wanted, what he needed.

“You feel, so, ughh! Fuck!” John said, unable to even get out a full sentence as he thrust inside of Storm’s body.

Now that he’d already had an orgasm, it seemed as though his next one would take some time to earn. That was good. Storm wanted Hunted and on the Run

43

this to go on for as long as possible, and for that very reason he was forced to take hold of the base of his cock once more to keep himself from spilling before he was ready.

There were no other words between them as they moved against each other. John’s skin was hot, and Storm never wanted to stop touching him, never wanted that punching of their bodies to stop or the push and pull of John’s cock inside of him to go still.

Breathy moans were the only thing that would leave Storm’s throat. He still wasn’t entirely certain about this mating thing, but if John continued to fuck him like this, then he would believe whatever the other man wanted him to.

John took advantage of Storm’s open mouth and kissed him. He seemed to think that all they needed to do was kiss while they had sex.

No, not just that, Storm realized with a start. They wouldn’t be kissing at all if this was sex for the sake of sex.

John was making love to him. In his own, clumsy way, he was claiming Storm as his own, trying to show him that they belonged together with his body.

He didn’t have the brain power to be thinking about something of that magnitude just now. He wanted to enjoy himself, nothing more and nothing less. All he knew was how nice and good and right it felt, so he went along with it.

Instead of simply holding onto his cock to prevent orgasm, Storm started jerking himself in earnest. He humped against John and his own hand with hard determination. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

His balls were heavy, and everything inside of him demanded release.

He held off for as long as he could, and now that was no longer a possibility.

He pulled away from John’s mouth and gripped the man to him as tightly as he could. “Oh yes, fuck me faster, yes, like that!” he shouted.

John groaned, but his hips continued to pump like there was a 44

Marcy Jacks

turbo engine inside him somewhere.

“Love fucking you, you’re mine, not letting you go.”

Storm heard those words inside of his head right