Without Reservations

rumbly, purring sound, the equivalent of a moan in this form. It wasn’t long before Bit’s hips snapped into his hand.
    Chay looked down, watching the slim hips rock forward and back, the thick cock slide in his palm. His own cock jerked, surprising him.
    He’d been too busy trying to please his mate to worry about himself. It hadn’t started out as sex, but it was certainly about sex now.
    He squeezed a little harder and let go. This time Bit’s growl sounded fierce. Chay smiled and enfolded his fist around his prick too. He wrapped both his hands around their cocks and stroked them together.
    It wasn’t long before both their hips were moving.
    Bit’s forearms rested on Chay’s shoulders and his cold nose tickled the side of Chay’s neck. Then his tongue snaked out, licking.
    Chay let his head lull back. His eyes closed and he concentrated on the feel of his hands sliding over his cock, mashing and rubbing Bit’s shaft against his. The heat of Bit’s throbbing dick felt good against him.
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    Keaton’s breathing sped up in time with the thrust of his hips. He bit down on Chay’s shoulder, hard.
    Blood dripped down Chay’s chest and back and like that he came. He screamed, actually fucking screamed, and shot so hard he felt like he would pass out. Cum splashed up his arm, his belly, his thighs, everywhere. There was too much to be all his.
    Keaton let go of his neck and howled, his hips snapping against Chay’s. In mid-howl he changed back, and the sound became a hoarse yell before Keaton fell to the bed on his back.
    Chay followed him down, landing right beside him. They both lay panting, covered in semen.
    After several minutes Chay’s brain woke up. What the fuck was that?
    It had to be some sort of pheromone thing or something. He’d never come so hard in his life. He damned near forgot his own name. He wasn’t sure if that was something he wanted to try again or mark down on his list of stay-the-hell-away-from-permanently. Shit, he wasn’t even sure Bit survived it. He turned his head to check.
    The expression on Keaton’s face almost made Chay laugh. Poor Bit’s eyes were so wide they looked like they were about to pop out of his head. He stared at the ceiling, blinking periodically. His mouth opened then snapped right back shut, like he wanted to say something but just couldn’t form the words. He gasped like a fish trying to get air.
    Finally Chay decided to help him out. “You okay?”
    “I think so.” He grabbed Chay’s hand, entwining it with his. “Good lord.”
    Chay nodded. “You can say that again.”
    “Is your shoulder okay?”
    Chay glanced down at it. It was already healed, the wound closed, the blood starting to dry. “Yeah.”
    “What the hell was that?”
    “A side effect from giving you my blood?”
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    “Yeah, probably. Don’t do that any more. I don’t like not having control of myself. I lost it. I freaking bit you. I can’t believe I did that.
    That’s scary.”
    He reached over with his other hand and caressed the smooth beloved cheek. “Not as scary as almost losing you.”
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    Without Reservations

Chapter Sixteen
    Keaton glared down at his phone, then checked the clock behind him. This was getting ridiculous. Chay called him every fifteen minutes.
    He held up a finger to his class and pulled his phone off his belt. “Excuse me. I have to take this.” He punched the call button and put his back to the podium. “Chay, not now. I’m still alive. I’m right in the middle of a lecture. I’ll call you back,” he whispered into the phone.
    “Okay, just checking. Love you.”
    “Love you too,” he mumbled, and hit end. He turned back to his class and smiled. “Sorry about that. Are there any questions?”
    No one raised their hand.
    “Okay, class dismissed. See ya’ll next Tuesday. Have a good weekend.” They filed out as Keaton gathered his things. He didn’t pay too much attention until he smelled another wolf. He hadn’t had a wolf in his class before. He glanced up as the last student left the room and noticed a man standing beside the door.
    Tall with impossibly wide shoulders, he made Chay seem small. He was Native American, in his mid-thirties or thereabouts, and had short black hair. He wasn’t classically handsome, but he was appealing, in a rough, masculine sort of way. He looked dangerous and he was most