I brought my thumb to my mouth and rubbed it gently around his opening. As soon as he moaned that time, I pressed my finger inside him. He stilled for a second. Frozen and silent and then he let out a high-pitched whimper. I pressed my thumb into him deeply. Up to the knuckle. As deep as it would go. I did what I could to loosen him up. I knew he’d need it for what I had to give him.

“Sully, please,” he said with more urgency. “I need you to fuck me. I need it. Please.”

I cast my eye around the room.

Shit.

“Jules, we don’t have any lube. We need it. Storm said it was the first rule of butt sex. We can’t . . .”

“We can! I don’t need it. I’m making my own. You can feel it.”

I looked down. He was right. I could feel it. His slick was tracking down my thumb and onto my palm.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “I was built for this. I was made to take it like this. Give it to me.”

His words were driving me crazy. It felt like he was inside my head, like he’d read all my thoughts and knew the exact words I’d been longing to hear. I pulled my finger out, drawing a small sound of protest from him. I rubbed my erection up and down his crease. What I saw gave me pause. A mild feeling of alarm. My musculature wasn’t the only thing my designation as alpha had inflated. My dick was throbbing. It was so long and so swollen, it looked too big to be practical.

Nerves pooled in my belly. “Jules, I don’t know. I’m scared I’ll . . .”

“I’m not scared.” His voice was steady. Clear as a bell.

“What if I hurt you?”

He looked back over his shoulder. “You won’t. There’s nothing you could do that could hurt more than the emptiness hurts. Nothing, I swear.” He moaned and moved one hand toward his lower belly. His breathing was short and labored as another heat wave hit him. He arched his back deeper and spread his legs more. He was as open and available as it was possible for a man to be. “Please, Sully.”

There was something familiar in his voice. A sweetness, almost. For a second, he sounded like Jules. Just Jules. My first and best friend. I couldn’t resist him. I lined myself up, holding my dick in one hand and his hip in the other, and I started to push. He was tight. God, he was tight. But he was slippery too. Slick and wanting. Instead of flinching, he pushed back. He made a long, keening sound as I breached him.

“Are you okay?” He made the same sound from before. “Talk to me, Jules.”