“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine life without my mother.”
They both smiled. “She’s amazing.”
“That she is.”
Mark turned onto his side, relaxing further. “So, how did you and Dean meet?” Anything to steer the conversation away from his mother.
Caster chuckled. “He tried to kill me. I tried to kill him. It was clear no one would win that fight. Mutually assureddestruction, it was.”
Mark laughed. That’s not how his brother tells the story. “You fought off Dean in wolf-form? You have to tell me how you did that.”
“Your brother in wolf-form is terrifying.” He paused, his eyes narrowing even as his smile remained. “I will deny that with everything I have.”
Mark’s laughter was uncontainable as the comfort of the moment dragged on.
“But I am stronger than I look.” Caster reached for his hair, a touch Mark had missed. “I really do love it when you laugh.” He drew closer, the gentle touches bringing the simmering desire to a slow boil. “Of course, you are just as strong as your brother, aren’t you?”
Mark couldn’t contain the moan even as he nodded his reply.
“You were magnificent with Bastian. And the efficient way you dispatched that vampire?” His voice dropped to a reverent whisper. “I’d love to see you in a proper fight.”
“You’re making it hard for me to think, again.”
“Yeah?”
That hadn’t been his intention, but Caster wasn’t sure how a conversation about their past had led to this overwhelming desire to have him again. Mark’s laughter had been the trigger, and it was now impossible to stop the arousal barreling through him.
But the desire to find out everything he could about him was far stronger. Still, there was no reason he couldn’t satisfy both. He nudged Mark’s shoulder. “Turn over for me, baby.”
There was only a hint of command, but Mark didn’t skip a beat, granting him the access he needed.
He had to shift closer to trace his defined abs, pausing toenjoy each ripple of his muscles. “Look at me.”
Their eyes met as his hand closed around Mark’s cock, but he didn’t give in to his desire to give him the pleasure he craved.
“Tell me something. Do you ever top?”
Mark moaned his response when he punctuated his question with a single stroke.
He raised an eyebrow. If he belonged to him, Caster would discipline the hesitation out of him. He’d seen it several times, and it niggled on his impatience like nothing else. Without it, there would be nothing to hinder his already phenomenal submission.
“No.”
A slight movement of his wrist and a tightening of his grip were reward enough. “No? Why?” His hand moved up the length of the magnificent cock in his grip, Mark’s hips rising to meet the stroke. “Your cock is beautiful and the perfect length.”
The hesitation was there again, as was the strategic answer he prepared in a mind he’d forgotten to fortify again. Caster’s other hand gripped his chin, tight enough that Mark’s eyes widened.
“I’m sorry. It’s just hard to think when you’re touching me.”
“Don’t think. Just answer my question.”
He swallowed. “It’s too much work.”
The lie hung between them, and Caster tightened his hold, his patience at an end. “The truth.”
Mark closed his eyes at the assault, but not before Castersaw the tears filling the brown depths. Still, his hips shifted forward, seeking Caster’s touch. He’d seen that desire for more pain that night at the club, and the way he’d taken it had been magnificent. Too bad they didn’t have time for extended play today.
“Tell me, and I’ll give you more. I’ll give you everything.”