24. A Midnight Forest Chase

24

A MIDNIGHT FOREST CHASE

"You seem to be forgetting a very important thing," Hector announced as Wren and Fang were getting ready for their run.

Wren glanced over. "What?"

Hector was wearing one of his smug grins, the one that said he had something up his sleeve.

"Don't," Fang growled.

"I can't possibly withhold information from you." Hector clucked his tongue and pulled out an ancient-looking scroll.

It was the night of the full moon. Wren knew Fang felt it keenly; once a month, Fang would pace during the day, his skin furrier than usual, his nails and teeth sharp. He was always all over Wren on those days, keeping their bodies pressed close, and any delay made him snappish.

"You should court Wren with a pickup line, " Hector said gleefully. "I found the perfect one for full moons."

"Oh, gods," Wren whispered. That pink book of pickup lines came back to haunt them sometimes. Every so often, they would find a page tucked under their breakfast plates, or under their pillows, or taped to the bathroom mirror. Because it ‘fostered greater intimacy in relationships.'

Fang narrowed his eyes. "None of the lines in that book are good enough."

"This one is." Hector opened the scroll with a flourish and cleared his throat. "‘On full moons, your face is round and glowing like the big rock in our sky. I wish to suck on your craters and fill them with my bodily fluids, until your skin is no longer a barren landscape.'"

Wren choked, beyond glad that Steffie was playing in Timmy Tim's cargo basket in the next room, and not hearing any of this.

"How the hell is that romantic?" Fang stared wide-eyed at his butler. "Who even let that be published!?"

Hector turned the scroll around to show it to them, the accursed words painted large and in bold across its length. "I'll hang this up in the living room."

"No," Wren and Fang yelled at the same time.

Hector pressed a hand to his chest and pretended to be offended. "How could you? I went to all this trouble—"

"You damn well expected it," Fang said.

Hector grinned. "Get going. The forest needs the loud and awkward sounds of your boning."

Fang rolled his eyes. Wren blushed just a little; he'd lived long enough with Hector under the same roof to lose most of his embarrassment. "We'll be back late."

The butler waved them off with a lacy rainbow handkerchief. Fang wrapped his arm around Wren's hips, walking with him out the back door.

"Cast the spell," Fang said. "I want to make sure it works before we set off."

Wren's heart fluttered. He drew the runes in midair—a cushioning spell for his whole body, and extra spells for his arms, legs, and belly. The spells shimmered around him for a second, then faded out of sight. "Done. I can fall pretty hard now, and our pup will be okay."

Fang growled softly. "You won't be falling hard. Show me."

Wren tipped himself forward. His center of gravity shifted, and he went down on his hands and knees—just that none of it touched the ground. Air buffered the impact so he landed softly, and kept his belly safe.

"Good," Fang murmured, crouching next to Wren. His fingers slipped over Wren's sweatpants and dipped into the crack of his ass—Wren didn't bother wearing underwear tonight. Fang was completely naked.

Fang helped him back upright. "Ready to run, Birdie?"

Wren's insides grew molten-hot. "Y-yeah."

He was barefoot, wearing a loose shirt and a thin pair of sweatpants that hung comfortably around his hips. He curled his toes into the loamy earth and looked up at Fang—strong and majestic, and someone he trusted completely.

"I'll give you a headstart," Fang murmured. He skimmed his knuckles along Wren's jaw and down the line of his throat, dragging them down the center of his chest. "Three minutes. Go."

Wren wasn't sure how far he could run in three minutes, especially on uneven ground. But he was a mage, and he had power now. No one said he couldn't use it to give himself an advantage.

He started off slow, finding his rhythm on the ground as he stepped into the forest.

The first spell he cast on himself was night vision.

The second, strength, because his belly was now half the size of a watermelon, and it took more effort to move the way he used to.

The third spell he gave himself was speed.

And now the ground flew by beneath his feet—not that he sped up immediately. No, he wanted to catch Fang unaware: he took longer strides, timed his footfalls roughly the same, and ran in a straight line because zigzagging would only slow him down.

He didn't know when his three minutes were up. But he kept running, increasing his speed because Fang had to be on the hunt now.

A thrill raced up Wren's spine. He heard other creatures in the forest, wolves and other beasts on their full moon run. Wren kept as quiet as he could and focused on leaping over roots and ditches, listening out for the thud of footsteps—

There it was. The easy lope of a predator catching up to him, Wren the only prey in his sights.

His entire body came alive. Wren gave himself a little magical boost, hopping over a large root.

Behind him, someone laughed, low and familiar, and it made his hole grow wet.

"You can't catch me," Wren said, knowing a wolf's ears wouldn't miss his quiet words.

Fang caught up to him in seconds, a dangerous presence just a few feet away. "You'll be mine when I catch you," Fang murmured, his voice carrying on the wind. "Mine to claim. I'll show you how much you belong to me."

Wren's breath caught. He tripped.

And suddenly there was a warm, solid presence around him, a strong arm slinging around his chest, catching his fall and pushing him down onto his hands and knees.

"I got you, Birdie," Fang rumbled, his breath hot in Wren's ear. "Thought you'd give me the slip?"

Wren shivered. "Should I struggle?"

His alpha laughed and slid a heavy palm down his chest, catching the hem of his shirt before dragging it up. The cool night air brushed Wren's nipples; Fang left the shirt hiked up under Wren's armpits and tore through his pants with sharp claws, careful not to catch Wren's skin. "I like it when you beg for me."

"Please," Wren gasped breathlessly, pushing himself into Fang's hands.

And suddenly Wren's pants were in tatters around his hips, leaving his cock and balls hanging out, his hole completely exposed.

"Mine," Fang growled, pushing his blunt, slippery tip between Wren's cheeks. "All ready for me. Mine to claim."

He thrust his cock against Wren's crack, grinding it against Wren's leaking hole. Wren raised his ass further; Fang swore and fitted his tip against Wren's entrance.

"Mine," Fang snarled, burying his cock with one smooth thrust.

Wren cried out, his entire body singing with pleasure. He scrabbled at the ground for something to hold onto as Fang started a slow but steady rhythm, his clawed fingers skimming ever so gently over Wren's belly.

"Mine," Fang growled between each possessive thrust. "Mine, mine, mine."

It felt like each stroke of his cock was a declaration of his intentions. Wren opened his legs wider, his hole dripping, his body quivering with need.

"Yours," Wren moaned.

Except Fang pulled his wet cock out, and set Wren back on his feet. "Keep running."

Wren whimpered. But he began to run again, slick dripping down his thighs. Fang's precum caused his cheeks to slide against each other with every step he took.

He made himself run faster, as fast as he could. It felt good—because he knew Fang was right on his heels, chasing him, ready to pin him and claim him again.

"Birdie," Fang growled behind him. "I can smell your precum. Your slick. Your ripe ass ready for me to claim."

Wren's cock jerked at his words.

"I can smell your arousal. Your little cock is all hard for me, isn't it? Your hole is already loose, ready to be filled with my cock."

Wren moaned, squeezing himself. He couldn't help but slow down—that was when Fang caught him, bowling him over, pinning him to the forest floor.

His cock followed a second later, pushing deep into Wren's ass, stretching him so wide that he cried out, coming hard.

"That's it," Fang groaned, rolling his hips, burying himself with short, hungry strokes. "I can feel your tight body sucking around me, begging for my cum. Begging for my knot."

"Want your knot," Wren moaned, shoving himself back onto Fang, trying to take him deeper.

"I'll give it to you. Soon." Fang growled and bit lightly into Wren's shoulder, cramming his cock against Wren's prostate so he wheezed, clutching at the shrubs beneath them.

Just that Fang pulled out completely. Again. Wren made a low, helpless sound, rocking back to search for him.

Fang stood him back on his feet, slapping Wren's ass lightly, just enough for the impact to light up his nerve endings. "Run."

"But—"

Fang tapped Wren's cock this time. "Run, Birdie. I'll fuck you properly when I catch you again."

Wren sobbed with need, stumbling forward. He found his footing and began running again, slick dripping down his thighs. He wasn't sure when he'd lost his pants—he only knew that his legs were now bare, precum trickling from his tip as he sought to widen the distance between them. With every step, his cock bounced, and his body craved touch.

Fang's approach caught him by surprise. Wren was on the forest floor before he knew it, his chest flat on the ground, ass in the air. Fang's tip rubbed over his hole before it slid right in, stretching and opening him so sweetly that Wren grew achingly hard.

Fang groaned. "You're clenching around me, Birdie. You were made for me. Mine. Mine. Mine."

He kept repeating the words with each thrust, until Wren was on the edge of another release. All he knew was Fang holding him down, filling him in the very best way.

"You run so fast, Birdie. And your body is so willing to be claimed. So willing to take my cock and cum and knot. So willing to be bred."

"I want it. Please," Wren panted.

Before he could come, Fang pulled out slowly. "Look at your hole trying to suck me back in." He thrust back in shallowly. "The way you look, Birdie. Wrapped around my cock so perfectly."

"Please let me come," Wren gasped.

Fang's cock left his body entirely, and he set Wren back on his feet.

"No," Wren whimpered.

Fang shoved his fingers deep into Wren's hole. "Run."

"I need to come," Wren wailed, pushing back onto his fingers.

"Run, Birdie. I promise not to take my fingers out."

Fang thrust in lightly. Wren took a few stumbling steps forward. Fang kept thrusting, keeping up easily as Wren began jogging through the forest. Fang's fingers were almost enough, skimming his prostate every so often, sometimes grinding hard enough that Wren's limbs trembled.

No matter how quickly Wren sped through the forest, Fang kept his hand wedged between Wren's cheeks, keeping them spread as his fingers jostled him inside, nudging against his prostate.

Wren couldn't think. He barely cleared the ditches and tree roots, all of his attention locked on the way Fang massaged him.

"I can feel you clench. Every time you leap over those ditches, your body squeezes around me." Fang panted. "Every step you take, your body slides around my fingers. I want to bury myself inside you, so badly."

"Why are you not doing it?" Wren sobbed.

"Because your need is just as beautiful as your pleasure. Look at your eager cock," Fang murmured, lightly wrapping his fist around it. Wren hissed. "Dripping so much for me. Are you about to come again?"

"Please," Wren whimpered.

Fang's fingers slipped out. The next moment, Wren was on the ground, on all fours, Fang mounting him from the back.

His cock kissed Wren's hole. And he pushed in slowly, stretching Wren mercilessly with every single inch. Wren couldn't stop moaning.

"I'm going to breed you again, Birdie," Fang whispered in his ear, his lips catching against Wren's skin. "Gonna fill you up with cum, and knot you to make sure it takes. You know how much I come, don't you? It's all going into your womb. Every single drop."

Wren spread his legs wider, reaching back to pry open his cheeks. "Don't pull out anymore."

Fang groaned. "I won't." He fucked in deep, so Wren's eyes rolled back and he writhed. "Do you feel how well your body takes my cock? You're so ready to be bred. I can't wait to come inside you, paint you white. Put another pup into your belly."

Wren tried to shove himself down Fang's cock. But Fang held him still, and resumed that slow rocking inside him, over and over until he struggled and tried to make Fang go faster. "Need, need—"

"Mine," Fang growled in his ear, changing his angle so his heavy cock pressed hard against Wren's sweet spot. Wren clawed at the ground. "You're so good for me. I want you to come on my cock."

Wren came with a cry, his entire body clenching. Fang rode him through that orgasm, dropping kisses on Wren's ear as he kept Wren completely spread.

"Fuck, I need to come," Fang panted, his thrusts going short and uneven. "Need to unload inside you. Make you mine. All mine."

Wren's teeth itched. "I need to bite."

Fang pressed his forearm to Wren's lips. Wren sank his teeth down hard; maybe he broke skin.

Fang cursed loudly and came. The next thing Wren knew, Fang's knot was swelling, stretching him wider than before. The first jets of warmth filled Wren, right before Fang pushed his tip against the opening of Wren's womb so the rest of his cum shot straight inside. Wren sobbed. It only got better when Fang's knot began to thicken inside him.

"That's it, take my knot," Fang whispered, grinding it against Wren's prostate. "Love it when you come around me. You love my knot so much."

"Yes, yes." Wren shuddered and came again. And again. He lost track of how many times he came, or even what position they were in. All he knew was his alpha, Fang fitting the perfect weight of his knot inside Wren's body, making sure he understood that he belonged.

"So beautiful," Fang murmured. He rubbed Wren's belly and rolled his hips, dropping kisses all over Wren's hair. "Your belly is all swollen with my claim. Mine."

"I don't think I can make another pup right now," Wren mumbled into his forearms. "Think I need to be in heat again."

"Let me dream." Fang slipped his hand into Wren's shirt to rub his scent all over his chest. He ran his palm up and down Wren's sides, then all over his belly, before closing it around Wren's cock and sac. "These are all mine. No one will touch them but me."

Wren smiled and sagged into Fang's arms. "Okay."

He thought they might fall asleep right there in the forest, except Fang gathered Wren into his arms, letting him sink fully onto his knot. Wren bit off his moan. Fang walked back to the house, his knot rocking steadily inside Wren, keeping him in a state of bliss all the way back home.

"Did you decide on a name?" Wren mumbled when Fang set him down in their bathroom and wiped him clean with a damp washcloth.

"I did."

"I—I don't think I'll remember right now," Wren said drowsily. "Tell me tomorrow?"

"Sure." Fang kissed his temple. Then he tucked them both into bed, still knotted together, and Wren fell into a dreamless sleep.