“No,” he breathed. He still hadn’t decided if that was a good thing or not. “I don’t feel like that now.”
He didn’t feel anything related to being a changeling, nothing to signal he was responding to Dominic’s unspoken wants. Just the tightness of anticipation in his muscles and the throb of need in his groin.
“If this is too fast—”
Sammy shook his head quickly and reached for him. “It’s not.”
Dominic studied him, his eyes drinking in every subtle change in his expression. Then he nodded.
“But if you change your mind—”
“I won’t.” Fuck, he had never wanted anything more in his life. “Just touch me.”
His mate groaned, the sound choked and almost pained as he gathered him into his arms. Somewhere between the vanity and the shower, their clothes disappeared, vanishing in a whirl of magic and lust, as Dominic carried him beneath the spray.
Warm water rained over them from the showerhead in the ceiling, washing hours of fear and doubt down the drain. Sammy clung to his mate, ankles locked behind his broad back, his pulse thrumming until it practically vibrated.
Their eyes met, locked. They teetered there for what felt like a lifetime, suspended, the air between them stretching taut and thin.
Dominic growled.
Sammy gasped.
And the tension snapped.
Their mouths crashed together in a frenzy of lips and teeth. Tongues pushed and glided, tangling in a brief power struggle Sammy was only too happy to forfeit. They ate at each other, desperation making them clumsy, sloppy.
Dominic’s hands roamed his body, grasping and stroking, mapping every angle, every curve, and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He spun, pressing Sammy into the cold tiles and pinning him there with his hulking frame.
Tanned skin pulled tight over heaving muscles, and shards of light pulsed through his veins, the magic within him barely contained. Canines elongated. His chest expanded. The lines of his face grew sharper, shadowed, and his cooper irises flared with a brilliant amber glow.
“Don’t freak out.”
Sammy traced the ridges of his mate’s cheekbones with his fingertips. “I’m not afraid.”
Dominic still looked like himself, just…more. Bigger. Harder. His muscles more defined. The bones in his face more prominent.
“Is it a mystic thing?”
Dominic shook his head. “It’s a wolf thing.”
Then he attacked Sammy’s mouth again, plunging between his gasping lips with an almost silent rumble. Reaching between them, he gripped Sammy’s erection, lining it up against his own, and rocked into him, pushing both their cocks through the circle of his fist.
Sammy’s eyes screwed shut, and his head fell back, his hips jerking with each languid stroke. Then lights burst in the darkness when Dominic traced the ridge of his crown, every nerve ending alive and raw now.
Water continued to crash over him, pricking his oversensitive skin, sensations bleeding together until he couldn’t tell where one started and the other ended. He felt stretched, like a guitar string pulled too tight, body vibrating from every kiss, every touch, every growled breath from his mate.
Suddenly, his world slanted and started to spin when he found himself on his feet, his chest pressed against the tiles while his fingers scrabbled for purchase. His back bowed, hips tilted, and he was dragged up on his toes as a slick finger slid between his cheeks to tap his entrance.
The digit penetrated, starting with the tip and working deeper, stretching the tight muscles. Dominic breathed kisses across his shoulders, his back, his nape, encouraging him to relax as he stroked inside him.
“Still okay?” he murmured against Sammy’s ear.
He nodded rapidly. “Yes.”
“If it’s too much, tell me.”
It was definitely too much, but not how Dominic meant it. More overwhelming, but in a way that still left him wanting more. He loved that his mate checked in with him, though, never making it feel like they had crossed some invisible line of no return.