Bonded to the Alpha Page 11

  "Hah."

  Callum thought for a moment, settling into Nero's lap. It was warm and pleasant, though he couldn't imagine Nero was comfortable under there. The bed would be better, except, well, the bed would be a lot more suggestive. Best to avoid it, just now.

  And Nero seemed almost talkative. Not that he didn't answer Callum's questions usually, but right now ... this was nice. Nero's voice was nice, and his hands kept roaming over Callum's shoulders, up and down his thighs, not restlessly but sort of possessively, like he was taking stock of something that was his. Because that's what Callum had said, right? 'All yours.'

  Callum cleared his throat, trying not to be embarrassed about that. "How come you're the alpha? I thought the alpha wolf would be, you know, the biggest. But you're not, really. Big, I mean."

  Nero gave him a slow, incredulous look, as if he'd said something so beyond ridiculous that it didn't even deserve a response.

  "Not that you're small. I mean ... shit, sorry." His face was red. His face was so red it was going to burn off. Nice one, Cal. Just poke him in the size issues, why don't you?

  Nero shook his head, as if shaking away a moth. "It was Holly's fault. That I became the alpha."

  That didn't even make any sense. "I don't ... what do you mean?"

  Nero frowned, looking ahead, not looking at Callum, speaking more to the wall than him. "We were not ... when she chose me I was nothing. And so was she, newly-bitten, lowest of the low. But she chose me, and then there was the bond. The others didn't know. It was our secret. It made us strong."

  Callum didn't know what to say, so he kept quiet, hands running through Nero's hair.

  Nero took a deep breath and went on. "The alpha then – his name was Fergus – he ignored me, but Holly made sure he noticed her. She teased him. And me. She told me she'd leave me." He paused, and then he said, "So when he called me out, I killed him."

  Callum held his breath, afraid to speak. Nero didn't say it casually enough for Callum to think he didn't care about it, that killing was nothing to him, but still he said it too calmly. How could he? And for someone he said he came to hate?

  "Have I answered your question?"

  "Yeah. Sorry."

  Why did it always have to come back to Holly? It was like she haunted them, hovering always on the fringes of every conversation waiting her chance to strike.

  Callum, though, had to ask. "Why did you bond with her in the first place? It sounds ... like a big deal." Like getting married, only worse, or better, or just more.

  "She wanted it. I'd have done anything she asked." He said it so calmly.

  Callum licked his lips. "You must have loved her. Back then."

  "Yes. A long time ago."

  The silence stretched out between them, as sharp and brittle as crystal, and then Nero ran his fingers up Callum's neck.

  "It doesn't have to be the same for us."

  No. There wasn't going to be any love, and Callum ... if someone had asked him the last time he'd been in this chair if he'd ever find the idea that Nero didn't really want him sort of heartbreaking, he'd have thought they were out of their mind.

  Two days was a long time.

  And Callum realised that he didn't want this. Not Nero – no, he did, that was the problem – but all this. Werewolves. This fucking bond. Hamish being a total jerkass. The constant threat of death and his fucking arm, which was definitely not getting better. Callum wanted none of that, he wanted out, he needed–

  "Callum," Nero said, concern lacing his voice. "Are you–?"

  Even Callum could feel how his pulse was up, but fuck, he was panicking, that was normal, wasn't it? "No, I'm fine, I just," and he twisted until he was straddling Nero's lap.

  The chair was generous but it was still a tight fit, and Callum didn't care, he needed to do something, anything to lance the swell of desperation rising in his chest. Callum shrugged out of his jacket, and then put his hands under Nero's jaw, tilting his face up. Nero looked startled but then, suddenly, hungry.

  "Let's make a bond, okay?"

  Nero shuddered, his palms smoothing over Callum's hips, catching on the pockets of his jeans. "You have to submit," Nero said, low and dangerous and exactly the right frequency to make Callum's spine tingle and interest his dick.

  "I'm submitting," Callum brought his mouth down to kiss Nero's, not gently because he couldn't manage gentle right now. "I'm yours. Okay?" He licked at Nero's mouth until he'd licked his way in, and then Nero's teeth were on his lip, Nero's hands gripping his ass and pulling him down until there was nothing but two layers of denim between them. Between their dicks. One of which was definitely interested now, and maybe Nero's too.

  It was hard to tell through the fabric, so Callum slid a hand down between them to find out. Nero seemed interested but not interested, and that ... that was okay. Callum could fix that. Callum would love to fix that.

  He pulled away, sucking in a breath. Nero frowned and tried to chase him, but Callum was already disentangling himself. "Wait, I–" and then he dropped to his knees on the rug, fumbling with Nero's jeans. Nero seemed surprised, but then Callum had them open, and tugged down far enough to discover that Nero, again, wasn't wearing anything underneath. He stared for a moment. It was stupidly hot, though he couldn't for the life of him explain why.

  Then Nero shifted a little, maybe impatient, maybe just cold, and Callum shook himself. "Sorry, I ... okay."

  Nero was still barely half-hard, so Callum leaned in to breathe on him and, yeah, it made Nero's dick jerk. Good. Callum flattened his hands on Nero's hips and ducked his head, nuzzling into the soft-firm flesh of Nero's cock, mouthing at him. Nero would like that, right? Jeez, he was going to have the scent of Nero's crotch all over his face. Nero would definitely like that, he was certain, so he licked his way down to Nero's balls, laving them with his tongue, and Nero made a sound that was almost as encouraging as how his dick swelled, firming up against Callum's face.

  Still not fully hard, though, so Callum just sucked the whole thing into his mouth, holding the head in his throat, tongue twisting along the length of it while he held still. And yeah, Nero groaned, thighs falling open, spreading obscenely wide, and Callum could feel him swell in his mouth.

  Fuck, he liked this. Nero liked it, but Callum liked it too, was acutely aware of the tightening in his own jeans, the discomfort of an erection bunched up in his pants. More importantly Nero was going to choke him if he didn't pull off so he did, sucking and licking his way free to finally look up and make eye contact.

  Nero's face was ... fuck, he looked broken. That wasn't right. Or ... maybe it was? It might be the good kind of broken. Callum licked his lips and saw how Nero's eyes tracked the movement. Yeah. This was the good kind.

  "More of that?" Callum asked.

  Nero's eyes flashed bright. "Yes," he said, and Callum grinned, shuffling back a little on the carpet.

  "Come up here, then," and he beckoned with both hands. "Come on. You can fuck my mouth. You wanna?"

  There, that flash again, and then Nero was on his feet, pushing his jeans down around his thighs. "Yes."

  Callum went up on his knees, licking up Nero's cock before taking him back down again and this time he didn't just hold him. He wrapped his hands loosely around Nero's hips, just in case, and relaxed as best he could, slurping his way up to lip at the head of Nero's cock before sliding it all the way to the back of his throat. Nero didn't need much encouragement. A hand settled firmly at the base of Callum's skull, holding him in place, and then Nero rocked his hips, fucking Callum's mouth with smooth, slow strokes and all Callum had to do was suck and breathe and work his tongue against the underside of Nero's shaft.

  It was messy and dirty, and Callum had discovered he liked this completely by accident, though he was wary of doing it with anyone he didn't trust. Nero, though, held him so carefully, and even as he sped his thrusts he went deep enough that Callum felt it, a good solid weight on the back of his tongue, but not deep enough to choke. A
nd Callum trusted him, he did, god help him, he shouldn't, but ... fuck, it felt so good.

  Callum moaned, dropping a hand from Nero's hip to rub himself through his jeans. He wanted to take himself out, jerk off with Nero in his mouth, wanted to come with the taste of Nero on his tongue, so he looked up, wondering if Nero would let him.

  Fuck, Nero's eyes were glowing. No fangs, yet, but he looked so fucking close to it that Callum spluttered, and had to pull away to catch a breath.

  Nero stepped back, his cock heavy and dark and slicked with spit. He shook himself, breathing hard. "Get the lube," he ordered, and fuck, his voice sounded as wrecked as he looked, as if he'd been the one on his knees with a cock in his throat.

  Callum scrambled to his feet, grabbed lube and condoms from the bedside cabinet, dropping them on the end of the bed at Nero's shaky gesture. Then Nero had him by the wrist, had yanked him in until they were flush against one another, Nero's cock pressing naked against the place where Callum ached in his pants.

  Nero pushed his nose into Callum's cheek and inhaled, deep and long, and Callum felt completely vindicated. "I knew you'd like that," he crowed, but Nero just kissed him, tongue lapping him up and, fuck, Nero was definitely getting off on the taste of himself in Callum's mouth.

  How much would he like it if I swallowed his come? The thought made Callum shudder, grabbing Nero's arms and digging his fingers in.

  Nero jerked away, eyes wild, his mouth wet and red. "Turn."

  Callum did, then Nero had him from behind, hands come round to pull open Callum's jeans, yanking them down to his knees and his boxers with them. Holy shit. Nero ran his fingers up the underside of Callum's cock, wrapped them around, and he was hard in the cleft of Callum's arse, and fuck, Callum had never wanted someone to bareback him so much in his life.

  But then the hand was gone, and– "On your knees," Nero growled.

  Callum went, bent himself over the side of the bed, heart racing. He still had his shoes on. He was going to have sex with his shoes on. No, better, Nero was going to fuck him with his shoes on. The thought of Nero too worked up to wait for them to undress made Callum moan, rubbing his hard-on against the quilt with almost-but-not-quite-enough friction for it to achieve anything. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Nero slicking his fingers, resting his knees on the edge of the mattress between Callum's thighs.

  Nero pushed Callum's shirt up, braced a hand on Callum's hip, then he bent down and bit Callum hard on the arse, right in the middle of one side. It was a shock, but not bad, not really, especially not when Nero licked over the bite, bathing it with his tongue. Then there were slippery fingers in Callum's cleft, sliding down to catch on his asshole, smoothing in circles around the rim. Fuck, those fingers were so wet, and Callum was so ready, he could feel himself opening up like a goddamn invitation, and the sound Callum made when one of those fingers pushed into him was loud enough they could probably hear it in the kitchen.

  Oh. God. They could. They were werewolves, with fucking super hearing. They all knew what was happening up here, that Nero was going to–

  But then the finger in his ass slid out, and then there were two, and they curled exactly the right way to make Callum sob into the covers and he really didn't care anymore.

  "Fuck, will you fuck me?" Because he didn't need much, he felt so impatient, like he'd bust a blood-vessel if Nero didn't take him right now. "Please!"

  Nero pulled out; Callum gasped at the shock, but then he heard the tear of a condom wrapper and the snap of the lube cap and one hand was gripping his ass, the other making slick sounds that could only be one thing. Nero didn't hesitate, just pushed in, and Callum couldn't breathe, it was perfect.

  There were two hands on his ass now, holding him open, while Nero buried the thick heat of his cock as deep as he could go. Balls deep, and Callum groaned, pressing his forehead against the bedcovers, eyes squeezed shut against the overwhelming rush of yesNero and pleasemore and the sharp pleasure of being filled.

  He wanted to see. When Nero pulled back, angling himself to drive in again Callum wanted to see, could only imagine how open he must be, how easy for Nero, while Nero worked up to a pace that would be punishing if it wasn't exactly what Callum wanted.

  How did Nero know? Callum had no idea. Callum didn't care. The only things that mattered were in the in-out slide of Nero's cock, the hot tension building in his balls, the obscene slap of Nero's lap against his ass.

  He braced his good forearm against the bed, pushing back, hips up so he could wrap a hand around his dick and, oh god, he was going to come, didn't even need to jerk off, just the pressure of his palm against the head of his dick – and then Nero bent his knees a little and Callum was lost. He couldn't help the stutter of his hips, or the sounds he made, but when he came he thought he might go blind from it.

  Fuck. That was.

  Everything.

  Nero growled, forcing Callum further up the bed, hands hard on Callum's hips, pounding into him with heavy, strong strokes, his breathing in tatters. Callum was too groggy to move, too wasted to do anything, just let Nero fuck him, and pant over him and, finally, grind to a halt with his cock buried in Callum to the hilt.

  Nero groaned, dropping his head to press his open mouth and the points of his teeth to Callum's skin. He stayed there for a moment, while Callum tried to get his breath back, and then withdrew, fingers brushing gently between Callum's buttocks like an apology.

  Callum wanted more than that, though; he pushed himself up, twisting and grabbing Nero's arm and leaning in to catch his mouth. Nero was breathing hard, Callum wasn't much better, and they gulped the air from one another's lungs like drowning men.

  It felt different, better than last time. Fuck, Callum felt like ... he never wanted to stop doing this, never wanted to let Nero go. Was this the bond, then? It wasn't what he'd expected, both more and less, and he dragged himself away from Nero's mouth to offer him a breathless smile.

  "So it worked?"

  Nero blinked at him, dark cheeks darker with blood, eyes almost black. He opened his wet, red mouth, and then his eyes widened, expression shifting. "No," he said.

  It didn't make any sense. "What d'you mean?" But Nero just shook his head, mouth compressing into a tragic line. "Then–" why do I feel this way? "Are you sure?"

  Nero squeezed his eyes shut, nodding. "I'm certain."

  "Okay." Callum licked his lips, giddy and, yeah, sex-drunk again. "That's okay. We'll just have to try again. Tomorrow, we'll do it again," because, fuck yes, he would do that again, holy hell, "and, and it'll be fine."

  He offered Nero another smile, cupping a hand behind Nero's head and trying to urge him down to be kissed, but Nero pulled away, looking wretched, and then he got up, leaving Callum alone on the bed.

  "Hey."

  Nero disposed of the condom, cleaning himself up with tissues, and wouldn't look at Callum.

  "Hey!"

  He still didn't look up, just handed Callum the box of tissues and Callum was suddenly so angry he couldn't take it. He threw the box hard at Nero's head. It didn't hit him; he knocked it out of the air with his ridiculous reflexes because he was a fucking werewolf. He looked startled though, and he looked up, so Callum was inclined to count that as a success.

  "What the fuck?" he demanded, yanking up his jeans and feeling sticky and gross. "Was it that fucking bad?"

  Nero stared at him. "No."

  "Yeah? You sure? Because you've got this shitty tragic face on and ... look, I don't know what's wrong but you were all over me today, and now you're just–" he broke off, too angry to trust himself not to say things he'd end up regretting. "Can't be worse than dying, can it? Fucking me, I mean."

  Nero shook his head. "It isn't that. It's the bond." He wet his lip, eyeing Callum warily. "I don't know if I can make it." With you, he didn't say, but Callum heard it all the same.

  "Because I'm not a werewolf?"

  "No, that makes no difference," and now he was agitated, hands balled up into fi
sts but all his movements small and close, as if he were trying to hold them in. "I don't know ... perhaps I can't."

  "What do you mean?" Callum spread his hands, still so very pissed off. "Just do whatever you did with Holly! That worked, didn't it?"

  "Yes, but," and Nero shook his head. "That was different."

  Oh. Of course. "Because you loved her?" And you don't give a fuck about me.

  "No. Because with Holly..." Nero took a deep breath, and there was something wrong, his whole stance was wrong. He looked ... beaten. "She was the one. I submitted to her."

  For a moment Callum didn't understand, and then– "Oh." Callum took a breath. "Then ... maybe you're doing it wrong. If you've never done, you know, your part before."

  Nero bared his teeth, suddenly furious. "I know what I'm doing! You're the one who–" but he changed direction all of a sudden. "Maybe we're doomed. If I'm not enough for you. If I can't, then." He shook his head. "It won't matter who's to blame when we're both dead."

  And with that he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Chapter 10

  Callum was still angry, but his anger faded as the sun came down, as twilight took over the house, and as his belly rumbled. He was upset but he was hungry, so eventually he ventured downstairs, made his way to the kitchen, and looked about for something to eat.

  Michael came in just as Callum had finished putting together a leftovers-sandwich. He gave Callum a once-over, seemed to come to terms with whatever he saw, and started pulling things out of the fridge.

  "I'm making stir-fry," Michael said, not meeting Callum's eye. "Do you want any, or are you happy with that?"

  Callum shook his head, taking a bite of his beef-and-gravy-and-cold-potato sandwich. "S'all good," he mumbled, mouth full but so cold.

  Michael nodded, and started chopping an onion.

  Callum watched him for a bit, bereft of anything else to do, but in the end– "Hey," he said, and Michael looked up, blue eyes flashing in the dark. "Want me to turn on the light?"