Oh, I know! Let’s have a final excerpt to ease the pain
if ya miss it you can find the first one here, and the second here.
if ya miss it you can find the first one here, and the second here.
[note: small details may change with final copy]
Craig couldn’t predict setting a werewolf free would lead to this much trouble.
Two months after the kidnapping of his best friend’s mate, Phil can’t stop thinking about the Hunter that set him free. He can’t get the smell out of his nose, and its driving him nuts.
Craig’s only ever known for one thing, hunting werewolves. He was born into it, raised to do nothing but kill the beasts, so when the hell did he let one free. Worse, why can’t he stop thinking about it.
When Phil and Craig meet up again, they start events that will slowly entangle all of them in the war that’s about to unfold—as long as they manage to survive the first wave.
Phil paced. He couldn’t help it. His skin tingled and his neck pricked. The moon above haunted him with its pull to have him shift into a werewolf, but there was still time to go. This wasn’t full, not in the magical sense of the word.
“Stop it, would you?” Kyle snapped.
The beast was too close. It was easy at this time of the cycle, It was agitated and it wanted out, but knew it couldn’t, knew it had to wait, and it hated that.
“Can’t,” Phil replied without a thought. It was true. He couldn’t stop moving. He couldn’t keep his hands from massaging his biceps, or his thighs. His ankles were rolling along with his wrists. He also felt his knuckles and neck cracking.
He couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something very big was going down and that he needed to be there for it.
He couldn’t stop thinking that his mate wasn’t here with him and that he should be. He was in trouble, and Phil had to go and get him, bring him back, have him next to him. Protect him.
How fucked up was that? Phil needed to protect his mate when his mate was a fucking hunter who had blown him up, tied him and told him that if he moved, he was going to become a welcome mat.
He did let you go, though.
Shut up, brain. That didn’t stop the fact that he was a hunter. He’d give the man a bonus for the fact that he was hot, because Phil couldn’t stop thinking about him. He couldn’t stop picturing the flat grey eyes that seemed to ripple like liquid when he’d looked at Phil and recognised him as something worth saving.
Phil couldn’t stop thinking about how his body had felt as Craig leant all his weight on him in a way that made it impossible for Phil to move without getting sliced. He had nearly covered his lover. His chest had rubbed up against Phil’s, his hips slipping into his for a moment or two, showing him how nicely they had lined up. Though Phil had been in werewolf form, he knew how the man was, knew it deep inside, and when the man was leaning on him, just touching Phil, he had been as calm in werewolf form as he was in human form.
It didn’t matter, even though the smell of him had hit Phil like a sledge hammer in his werewolf form, had caveman-shouted mine in that glorious way no one wants to be, but his eyes confused him and turned his heart soft, sludge that beat behind his ribs.
Arousal had pumped through him from the moment he had smelt him. The heat of his body had made it a physical reaction. The look in the man’s eyes as he lay on top of Phil with a knife at his throat, the look as if his soul was spilling out for only Phil to see—it looked as if the man was able to see his eyes the same way, because he had let him go. Whispered words and a heated moment had him running into the trees clutching his side with one hand and digging his nails in his pecs with the other.
The werewolf in him had wanted to go back. Needed to go back. But he was able to think with the human part of him, though the further he went, the harder it was to think that way. But he’d hurried and he’d cried out in a pain that still hit him hard.
“Fuck!” he screamed at the dirt, trying to get rid of some of the frustration that was eating at him.
It had been a month, a fucking month of telling himself that he hadn’t met his mate. That the man with the steel eyes wasn’t his mate. But all he got was a hard cock that throbbed with a pain that came from blue balls, even though he’d jacked off an hour earlier.
“Fucking shit-arse body.” He stomped off towards one of the trees. He didn’t care anymore. He had to get off. He had to get rid of the pain in his balls so he could have a moment without it in his chest.
“Again, Phil?” Matt asked. That guy had his mate. He was whittling a knife out of a stick, sitting on the ground with it between his legs, and was a new addition to their group, coming when he and Jex had run away from wherever they were from and needed a place to hide. Luckily, Matt and Colin were cousins. Because of that, he’d been introduced to the group of werewolves, and they just clicked.
A throb between his legs had him grunting as he kept on walking. It didn’t want him to forget about it—the cock-sucking cock. He hated his dick at that moment. Had hated it for the past month, because jacking off had become a…a fucking job, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever find pleasure in anything to do with his dick again if it didn’t settle down and play nice.
He leaned up against a tree just far enough from the group so they couldn’t see him. Unzipping his pants, he angrily shoved his hand down, gripping his cock.
The rock-hard and dripping fucking piece of meat had him smothering a groan of relief as a moment of pleasure overran the pain. It wouldn’t last. His need to come wasn’t as easy as it should have been in this state, but his mind wasn’t in it, his heart even less, and his body was being an arse about it.
He wished he could just leave it alone as he slid his hand from top to bottom, wincing at the burn and trying to get himself to care enough to spit on his hand so he wouldn’t rip off yet another layer of skin he couldn’t really afford to lose.
His hand moved as his mind tried to bring up his usual images of the porn he watched to masturbate, but it was like watching two chicks getting it on. All tits and pussy without a moment of lust. Kinda like when he realised chicks didn’t do it for him. Only these images were of double penetrating, and that was fucking hot.
When it had felt as if he’d been pulling at his cock for years, he took in a deep breath and decided that he really needed to move this shit on. He hated that his mind forced him to do this. Hated it even more that the closer it got to the full moon and the more his beast was riding him, the hornier he got. It was truly the reason he couldn’t leave it anymore. His werewolf would fuck him up if he didn’t release the build up his body was creating.
Spitting on his hand and moaning softly on re-contact, he felt the slick heat wrap around the abused meat and soothe it in a way that had nothing to do with sex.
His mind went with the exhale and he magnified the image of the male that had started all this. The hunter, his mate, kneeling down in front of him, a sparkle in his eyes as he looked up, watching Phil’s reaction as he took in the head of his cock.
Heat magnified through his body, boiling his skin, causing sweat to trickle down his spine and across his brow. His heart picked up as his mind imagined what his mate would look like with his lips stretched around his cock. A low moan slipped free. Fingers dug deep into bark. His body bowed inward as the muscles in his arm wanted to seize with prolonged use.
Just a bit more, he chanted as he imagined the wet hand around his dick as a mouth. Shit substitute, but he needed to come so badly that it didn’t matter. It was all or nothing and the nothing was going to tear his skin off his bones.
Like an animal in heat, his—in heat? Could that be what’s happening to me…
“Fuck!” he grunted loudly as the orgasm that was squeezing his balls shot out of his dick. He rolled on a giant wave of pleasure as it peaked with every shot of cum he helped push out his cock.
The orgasm washed over him quickly, his recovery feeling as if he’d never shot. Only the stickiness on his hands and the tree, along with the sweat, were any signs that he’d come. It wasn’t a relief, not in the long run. His body was still too hyped up. His spine still tingled for more. For the real thing.
His heart beat fast, his neck pricked with the feeling of need. He needed to find his mate. But maybe he had more of a reason why, now.
The clapping didn’t help. Phil’s asshole friends applauded him as he came back into view, making his cheeks heat with embarrassment. Not that it should have mattered. It wasn’t like this was the first time, nor would it be the last. It wasn’t like he’d never seen any of them fuck their palms. They were a pack for a reason, a very gay reason. Yeah, it was intended that way.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved at the group of—what—nine, now that Matt and Jex had joined. No, ten. There was Tim as well. How rounded they were.
“You feel better, now?” Jex asked, as if Phil had just gone and chucked up after too much to drink. Like it was nothing. Maybe it was, the man was a little twisted when it came to shit like…life.
“Not really,” he muttered as he sat down, finally able to, but he knew it wouldn’t last. Soon the build-up would start and he would be crawling out of his skin again, needing. “Hey, wolves go into heat, right?”
Yeah, that got everyone’s attention.
“That they do,” Matt said, his eyes a little squinted as he looked at Phil. “You think you’re in heat?”
“No.” He laughed a little with the rest of the guys around him. The laughter was because of the implications, but there was a side that made it weird—could they really have mates? “But… What if…and, you know, you can’t…you need—shit.” He rubbed at his face hard.
“You knew Jex was your mate ages before you mated him, right? You went through moons?”
Matt, still looking at Phil with that squint in his deep-set eyes, took in a breath, looked down at Jex, and then into the trees. “Yeah. I…it’s…fuck me, it’s hard to describe, but maybe you’re right, maybe we go into heat. Or the partner of the mating goes into a heat and all the werewolf wants is to mate.” He sighed again and nearly whispered, “It really sucked through the moon, hell, the times coming up to it, but I wasn’t near as bad as you are right now.”
“Yeah, but you probably knew where he was—had seen him that day or the day before. You knew you would see him the following day. I haven’t had anything but knowledge that he’s my mate and I have no fucking clue where he is.” Fuck. He was up again, pacing.
His skin crawled and his feet moved. His hands started roaming again, though slowly, less rushed. Like a caress rather than a driving need.
“It’s true that I always knew where he was, and I made sure that I saw him the day after. But I was never this bad.”
“It makes sense, though,” Gene said as he watched Phil pace. “If you think of it in terms of animals. And that we are one. He’s only been getting worse the closer the moon has gotten.”
“So we go into heat when we meet our mate, before we mark them? Or is it because he’s found his mate, but he’s not here?” James asked.
“I wasn’t this bad,” Matt put in.
“Yeah, but you said so yourself, you knew where your mate was. You probably had marked him, at least by scent. Also…” Gene trailed off.
“Also there weren’t any other wolves around you, and your mate wasn’t a hunter,” James finished.
“Why would that make a difference?” Jex asked casually.
“‘Cause as a hunter, he’s more likely to come close to one, isn’t he?” Chris answered, his tone a little hard and pissed, but that was normal.
“Still doesn’t explain this.” He pointed at Phil who was now rubbing his thigh and hips, trying to stop himself from rubbing his cock, which was fucking hard again. “Really, he looks as if he’s about to rip his skin off.”
“Colin wasn’t that bad, either,” Adam said a little shyly as he walked into the clearing.
“No, he wasn’t, was he?” Gene mused. “So why is Phil?”
“Dipshit, Colin was the same as Matt. He knew where Tim was, that—shit, remember? That first moon when Colin met Tim?” James looked back at Phil with real interest.
Gene did the same, his eyes squinted, remembering, connecting. “Shit, you’re right, he was a mess that night. Not this bad, but…”
“This is Phil’s second moon,” James concluded.
“Shit.” Adam nodded as he dumped his bag and sat on the log next to James. “Imagine what it’ll be like next moon if Hunter doesn’t come back.”
Adam blushed. “Well, we don’t know his name, do we?”
The group laughed, then slipped into a short silence. The trees whistled. The moon pushed for darkness when it would get to pull the werewolves out of their bodies. And Phil’s mate was out there somewhere hunting in his dark clothes and the heavy weapons strapped to his body.
His…”Fuck! I can’t touch you anymore, so fuck off!” he screamed at his dick.
Can’t wait to hear what you think of it