Little Wolf (33 page)

His big wolf was angry with him. Tim twisted his fingers into dark hair and tried to apologize with something other than the musky tang of sex. He kissed back with a growl, surprised at himself as he rocked forward, further surprised by the immediate curl of Nathaniel’s arms around him, the softening of his mouth before Nathaniel pulled his face away.

Tim made a sound, and then Nathaniel’s mouth was on him again, at his cheek, on his ear. Nathaniel’s hands were rough, his grip strong enough to leave bruises, but Tim was too gone to care.

“Tim.” Nathaniel spoke his name, and Tim turned toward him without thinking. Nathaniel shook his head. “Hold on.” His kisses were gentling. Tim frowned for it, the lick at his bottom lip, the lingering, breathless murmur at the line of his hair. Tim couldn’t think, and Nathaniel was telling him to hold on?

Tim didn’t think he snarled, but he did something that made Nathaniel press him against the door again in such a way that Tim couldn’t move. The air was filled with
want
and
apology
and something unknown, infuriatingly so.

Nathaniel held himself back for a second and then leaned in to exhale over Tim’s mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” The response from deep in Tim’s chest was animal. Nathaniel’s fingers stroking down his throat ended the growl and made Tim blink, although they did nothing to make him less hard. Nathaniel was hard too. Tim could taste it, but he wanted to feel it. He leaned in to try another kiss, and Nathaniel’s lips parted. Nathaniel was shaking. “Little Wolf, please.”

His wolf was begging. Tim paused, then licked Nathaniel’s need from his mouth and exhaled heavily. A glance up gave him no answers, so he dropped his head. Nathaniel’s warm hand immediately curved over the back of his neck. He swept his thumb over the skin, pressing in at the throb of Tim’s pulse. Nathaniel inhaled before kissing the top of Tim’s head. If he could have, Tim would have howled at him.

The space between them felt like magic had been worked, like delicate glass, some of it sharp, had been spun, but Nathaniel kept on caressing Tim’s throat in slower, calmer, motions. His kisses were brief, no matter how much Tim whined and pulled at him. Tim felt the shiver in Nathaniel’s skin and the pound of his heart, but Nathaniel wasn’t going to fuck him. Tim didn’t know how to feel about that. He only knew he was confused and too turned-on to stop and think clearly.

“Was that you being territorial?” he demanded when his pleading for deeper kisses didn’t work, part of him still stuck on the fact that he had kissed Nathaniel and Nathaniel had been the one to go weak. Tim’s knees were water, Nathaniel the only reason he was still on his feet, but Nathaniel was weak. Nathaniel was trailing his mouth over Tim’s face and touching him in ways that made Tim want to snap at him and throw him to the ground. Nathaniel wanted them to stop but hadn’t stopped yet. If only his hands or mouth would go lower. When they didn’t, wouldn’t, Tim raised his chin and got another short kiss for the effort. It made him dizzy. “Goddammit,” he swore in a faint whisper, staring up at infuriating perfection. “If you don’t want me to go, then say so. I don’t understand this.”

He didn’t wait for an answer that would be controlled and considerate and every other kingly quality Nathaniel possessed. He tugged on the flannel shirt Nathaniel should never have worn until Nathaniel’s face was close. Then he took Nathaniel’s bottom lip and nipped it, feeling his teeth sharper than they had ever been. He kissed that lip a moment later, letting their mouths drag together and going hot when Nathaniel dropped his hands to Tim’s back and hauled him in. Tim could feel Nathaniel’s cock now, like a shock to his system. His palms itched with the need to touch. He whimpered, twitching to discover more than just an impression of size, of power, and Nathaniel answered him with the touch of his teeth, first at Tim’s jaw and then down to his throat, to where his thumb had been not long before.

“Do it,” Tim told him, unsure what order he was giving but aware Nathaniel was hesitating. His care meant everything when he could already have had Tim on this porch tonight and hadn’t.

“Are you going to the Meadows tomorrow?” Nathaniel’s voice was hoarse. His teeth scraped along Tim’s skin until Tim could hardly stand it. Tim pressed forward, his heart so loud in his ears he could barely hear himself when he spoke.

“They asked me,” he confessed, aching for whatever it was Nathaniel wasn’t doing. “Part of me wanted them to.” He spread his fingers out for the way that made Nathaniel’s breathing stop, how Nathaniel’s hold on him tightened.

“Then go.”
Hurt
, pure pain hit Tim so hard he didn’t need to label it further than that. He wondered if it was right to lean in, and then the wolf did it for him, knocking his body against Nathaniel’s and rubbing his face along any patches of Nathaniel’s bared skin. It felt obscenely good. “Little Wolf,” Nathaniel huffed at him, not amused but somehow chiding. His hands were stroking up Tim’s spine. He probably meant the touch to be gentle. It wasn’t, as if his control was slipping further every time Tim buried his face in his shoulder. Nathaniel’s every breath was setting Tim on fire. “You have to be sure.”

“Pretty sure I want you.” Tim was hard and aching and petting Nathaniel with his face. He had no idea what was going on in his life except for how much he wanted Nathaniel. “I want you on top of me. I want to bite your scent and lick your shoulder blades and probably eat your come for breakfast.” He scratched down the front of Nathaniel’s shirt, then put his face there too, breathing fast.

“I know you do.” Without relying on his eyes and his tendency to use them as a human would, Tim could hear the answering edge in Nathaniel’s voice, inhale his salty lust and that gut-wrenching
pain
. Nathaniel was weak because of Tim. Tim wanted to lick him and destroy him. The wolf whined, so he did both. He pulled at Nathaniel’s shirt until the top button fell away, and then he put his nose to his skin. His tongue followed. Then he shoved a hand down between them and exhaled in satisfaction for the cock against his palm. Nathaniel put a hand to his shoulder, holding tight instead of pushing Tim away, but Tim frowned. He put his ear against Nathaniel’s chest, and Nathaniel’s next words rumbled through him. “Please.” Nathaniel was weaker by the second. “I know you want this. But you don’t know what this is.”

Tim swatted Nathaniel’s hand away. “Then tell me, asshole.”

The last thing he expected was the quiet tremor in Nathaniel’s voice. “You have to recognize it. Out of context it might frighten you. Or repulse you.” Nathaniel was pulling away again, leaving Tim with empty hands. “They all say it will be worse if we do this and you leave. I’m strong, but no one is that strong. No matter how you think of me.” Even though his hands were on Tim, Nathaniel was taking himself away.

Tim had been a wolf today for the first time in years, and he still had no idea what was beneath those words. All he got were hints, snatches of scent and a heartbeat, and the way Nathaniel looked at him as he stepped back.

Tim dropped a hand to his own dick and gave himself the best tug he could through his pants. “Was that a kiss? Was it supposed to be more? Fuck, I’m so hard right now.” He didn’t care that he was whining. “Don’t say sorry. It makes it worse when you’re nice. So much fucking worse that you’re so good. I mean, Nathaniel, you feel… you smell… God, you
taste
… and then you
don’t
.” Tim bit off the word. “Am
I
supposed to? Fuck. Why aren’t you Luca? He’d take what I was offering—”

Storm clouds rolled across Nathaniel’s expression, and Tim froze. He met Nathaniel’s eyes and leapt forward in a jerky, stuttering motion. “That was fucked-up. Sorry. I’m sorry. You aren’t Luca. You aren’t anything like him, and I like that. I love that, I mean, I was horny and you were close and apparently you want me, but there is some magic werewolf word or something. I just don’t know with you. You surprise me.” Tim heard the wonder in his voice and knew he’d blush for it later.

He sank down, realized he was too far from the bench, and stumbled over to sit. “I’m fucked-up, aren’t I?” He stared at Nathaniel and wished they were running through the Meadows again. That had been surprisingly easy. But he knew what Nathaniel thought about easy things. Maybe that was why he liked Tim. Tim was nothing if not difficult.

Tim shook his head. “I’m sorry. You aren’t anything like Luca. I don’t know why I said that. I hated Luca. He only got worse as I got older, you know.” Tim briefly hung his head. His first date, a date with Nathaniel no less, and he’d managed to turn it into this. He felt unnaturally cold, but he forced his chin up for the rest of his apology. “I like what you did, what we did, just now. Luca never pinned me anywhere to kiss me. He never—”

“He never what?” The rage in Nathaniel sent embarrassment skittering through Tim, and then annoyance. Tim had no reason to feel embarrassed over Luca’s actions, but he did, and at his own. More than annoyance, he felt shame.

Tim crossed his arms and directed his gaze elsewhere. “He never worried about me understanding anything.”

Nathaniel’s voice was getting progressively rougher. “Did he worry about you saying yes?”

Tim swallowed guiltily, as though he’d been keeping a secret. “I already told you he was a bastard.” This was not an answer. Nathaniel was silent. Tim lowered his head again. “I was even smaller then.” Normally he would have straightened to seem taller, but his shoulders stayed hunched. His erection was so gone it felt like he’d imagined it. “I was thirteen when I really noticed him. Thirteen. I’m sure I
reeked
of come and frustration. He was my uncle’s… he was around all the time. He was big and tough and I guess at first I was—”

“Eager to impress him? Desperate to please him?” Nathaniel filled in as if he already knew that part of the story. He might have been guessing the rest of it, but he was right about that too. “But you had no one to guide you, and he wasn’t the kind to let you down gently or to at least treat you well?”

“He….” Tim didn’t want to think about what Luca had wanted. “
I
changed my mind about him almost right away. I tried to avoid him after he first told me what a little bitch I was for acting the way I did around him, and how I was going to like it when he….” Tim left that unfinished too. “Anyway, he didn’t like my ‘no,’ or he didn’t believe it, and he got worse. I managed to get away most of the time.” That was all Tim was going to say for now. “Most of the time” was enough to have Nathaniel even further on edge, and Tim didn’t want to remember Luca’s hands on him or his mouth against his ear. Tim exhaled. “I left. Now I’m here. That’s all, except for how he’s apparently still messing up my life. Was this the worst date of your life or what?”

Tim didn’t pretend to laugh. He wasn’t sure what to do, although he knew if he waited long enough he’d be angry. He’d hated Luca, but he hadn’t realized that spending years trying not to think about him had made it worse. “I fucking gave that asshole more power over me by believing the dumb shit he told me. And my uncle…. I would have known Luca was lying if my uncle had just told me….”

Nathaniel stepped closer. He let Tim hear his approach, but somehow Tim was surprised when Nathaniel’s shoes appeared in his line of sight. Some wolf he was.

Tim raised his head and caught Nathaniel in the act of withdrawing his hand, as if he’d been about to touch Tim and then remembered himself. He had done that when they’d met too. Tim reached out to grab Nathaniel’s wrist and bring Nathaniel’s hand to his throat. Nathaniel touched his fingers to Tim’s neck, light and careful.

Tim met his gaze. “This is why you need me to be sure, isn’t it?”

A strange, sad smile crossed Nathaniel’s face. “Yes.”

“You aren’t like him.” Tim was going to make that clear. Through the fog of everything else he was feeling and the wolfish urges only barely contained by the work of Nathaniel’s hand, he was going to make that clear. “You aren’t like him so much that you are going to make me go out to the Meadows tomorrow.”

Nathaniel startled him with a small, rueful laugh. “Nobody can make you do anything.”

Tim snorted but lolled his head back to let Nathaniel’s fingers stroke under his chin. “With the right leverage, someone might figure out a way,” Tim commented, noticing again that Nathaniel managed to look amazing and exhausted at the same time. “Am I being selfish?” Tim wondered aloud, turning his face toward Nathaniel’s palm the second he had a chance to. “What would you do if I weren’t so messed up?”

“What do you mean?” Nathaniel took his hand away.

Tim reached after it. “What would you do if I had been raised knowing everything about weres, and we’d gone out, and I’d brought you a rabbit, and then you’d walked me to the door like a character in one of your movies? What would you do to express your interest? It wasn’t the kiss. That surprised you too.”

Nathaniel took hold of Tim’s hand and brought it up, bringing Tim to his feet. Nathaniel pulled Tim’s palm to his mouth and nose and inhaled.

Tim looked at him, fairly certain his eyes were as bright as Nathaniel’s. His blood pounded, fight or flight and arousal all mixed together. He kept still. “What about tomorrow? If I had been raised in this town and you wanted me, and I wanted you, what would you do then? Would you let me go to the Meadows?”

Nathaniel nodded, but the nod was slow and reluctant, and Tim barely noticed with the way Nathaniel’s teeth were scraping over his nerve endings.

“You’d mark me.” It burned to say. Tim felt it all over and bit down hard at his own lip to imagine how Nathaniel might claim him. “Oh,” he said at last. “You’d mark me, and then no one else would dare touch me. That’s serious.” And more arousing than anything Tim had ever known. Merely talking about it had him dry-mouthed and trembling. He cleared his throat. “And you need to know that’s what I want.” Just when he thought, hoped, Nathaniel’s teeth might sink into the base of his thumb, Nathaniel exhaled and stopped. “But you won’t.” Tim was going to master instinct in no time now. “You won’t because you don’t think it’s best for me.” His chest was crushed with this, making him breathe fast and loud. “No one’s ever let me go in order to do what’s best for me,” he observed, then stopped. “No one has ever let me go in order to let me figure out what’s best for me,” he repeated.