“Not pain,” he panted. “Not pain . . . it’s not pain. It’s . . . relief.”

I inhaled and exhaled deeply. My arms went limp, and I breathed pleasure in and out.

Relief.

I felt it, too. I wanted more. I needed more, so I thrust again, soft, shallow thrusts that nudged a little deeper each time. Each time, he pushed back to meet me. The friction felt good. It felt perfect. I lengthened my strokes and it made him moan harder. It made me moan harder, too. The pleasure was like nothing I’d felt before. It flowed up my dick and bled into my veins. It was magick. His breathing got louder. Harsh and uneven. I heard the sound of his nails clawing the rug.

“Jules, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t stop.”

I withdrew my dick, so only my head was inside him, and I thrust all the way in.

“Aaargh, yes! There! Right there.”

I thrust again, same angle as before. “Is this what you want?”

“Yeah. God, yes. It feels good.” His words were drawn out, long and tortured, but they changed. They softened. “Does it feel good for you?”

That was Jules for you. I loved him for asking. I loved it that even in the midst of a mind-altering heat, despite everything he was going through at that precise moment, he still wanted to check up on me.

“It feels good for me, too.” My voice was breathy, strained to a whisper. “You’re tight. So, so tight.” I stopped moving for a second, but he didn’t. He canted his hips so his snug ring of muscle rode up and down my cock. “Feels good,” I said again. “So good. You’re so warm inside.”

He sounded to acknowledge my words. It was the type of sound my wolf understood better than I did. I knew he was close. I knew he was wanting.

“Stroke your dick, Jules. Take what you need.”

He gasped in gratitude and did as I said. He braced himself with one hand and stroked with the other. His arm moved quickly, frantically fisting his cock. His ass started to spasm almost immediately, clenching and tugging my dick as he threw his head back and roared as he came. The room filled with the scent of his seed. I didn’t just smell it; I felt it. I felt it all over my body. It permeated my senses and pervaded my mind. My hips jerked and I used every ounce of my strength not to wreck him.

“Give it to me, Sully,” he whispered. “Give me your load. I want it. Give it to me. Shoot it inside me.” His words were breaking me down. Wearing away the thin veneer of what was left of my humanity. “I want it. I want you to shoot it so deep inside me that I can taste it. That’s what I want.”