Dean flipped Will on the table, leaving the beautiful human seated there as Dean took care of the pesky remains of his mate’s outfit. It was almost ridiculous that he had to go through all this fancy maneuvering for something so simple, but he had real trouble remembering why he wasn’t simply tearing the damn things off. In fact, once Dean was successful in his task and got Will naked, he found he didn’t have the same patience for his own clothing. He tore his shirt open—simply because his mate wanted him to—and snapped the buttons of his jeans, groaning when the action made his hard as nails dicks spring out. Will made a noise that was half-whimper, half-curse. “Come on, Dean,” he whispered, his voice wrecked and husky. “Fuck me.”

Now that he could, Will spread his legs wide, and Dean was seconds away from pouncing. In fact, he probably would have pounced had he not noticed the slight tremor of Will’s hands, the way his heart was racing—and not just because of arousal.

Will was nervous. How could Dean have forgotten? His mate had never done this before. To be fair, Dean had never had sex with a man either, but in his long years, he’d encountered some more adventurous women who’d been brave enough to take his cock up their asses. Dean knew he needed some sort of lubricant to smooth his way inside. The last thing he wanted was to hurt his mate.

As it turned out, he was in luck. He caught sight of a jar of Vaseline sitting innocuously on a nearby shelf. It was the best thing he could get under these circumstances, and even if it would make cleaning up a bit of a chore, it would have to do.

Dean reached for the jar and uncapped it. His instincts guided him to move as quickly as he could, to spread Will’s legs and prepare his mate for intercourse. He didn’t, though, not just yet. Instead, he met his mate’s gaze steadily, struggling to control his own breath and racing heart. “Are you really sure about this, baby? Tell me now. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop later.”

“Yes, Dean. I... I told you... I don’t want you to stop,” Will murmured. “I want you to fuck me. Please, Dean.... Now.”

How could Dean resist? After all, he was only a man—and a wolf—and he had his mate in front of him, asking for his touch. It was too much to withstand, and Dean’s resolve broke like it had never existed.

Fortunately, Will didn’t need or want his composure. His own words had made him reach a decision. He stopped trembling and lifted his legs, exposing his hole to Dean’s greedy eyes. Dean dipped his fingers into the jar of Vaseline, slicking them up with a generous amount of the substance. Unable to tear his eyes away from his mate’s beautiful face, he steadied Will’s legs on his shoulders with one hand, while reaching for Will’s hole with the other.

Will released another of those sinfully beautiful noises, and Dean heard what Will wasn’t saying, felt Will’s need as intensely as he did his own. He rubbed his thumb over the rim of Will’s opening, then softly inserted one finger inside Will’s virgin channel. He barely suppressed a hiss at the feeling of tightness that engulfed that one digit. Will’s ass clenched around the invader like a hot velvet fist, and Dean could too easily imagine how good it would feel around his dick.

But no, he couldn’t rush this, couldn’t just bury himself into Will’s body no matter how much he wanted to bring the two of them together. He bit the inside of his cheek in a hopeless attempt to muster a measure of control and gently pushed his finger in and out of Will, giving his mate time to adjust. A gasp of “more” had him adding a second digit. To distract himself from his own need, Dean focused slowly on Will’s. It didn’t really work, of course. In fact, it was completely counterproductive. When Dean crooked his fingers inside Will and found his prostate, Will clenched around him with a choked moan. His cock jerked between them, the scent of his arousal growing even more intoxicating. Dean couldn’t hold on for much longer. He needed to touch more, to taste more, to make Will his.

Despite his decision to take things as slowly as possible, Dean lowered his mouth to Will’s cock. As Dean gathered the copious amounts of precum on his tongue, a muffled scream escaped Will. A brief glimpse toward Will told Dean his mate had covered his mouth with his own hand, apparently unable to remain discreet enough for their less than safe location. His face was flushed prettily, pink with arousal and sensual strain, and his green eyes had gone almost black with lust. Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen Will so beautiful before—not even when Will had sucked his cock.

The angle wasn’t perfect, but Dean managed to suck Will’s cock into his mouth while still working his fingers into his mate’s ass. He scissored his digits inside Will, stretching his lover, preparing him for a deeper penetration. He kept his suction light and teasing at first, acquainting himself with this new method of pleasuring his mate. He’d never given a blow job before—somehow Will had always hijacked his previous efforts—and he wouldn’t have thought he would enjoy it as much as he did. But oh, it was all glorious, from the feel of his mate’s cock on his tongue, to the flavor of Will’s pre-ejaculate assaulting his taste buds, Will’s impossibly sexual scent, and the way Will moved, trying to get more, needing Dean. Still, as satisfying as these touches might be, Dean had his eye on the proverbial prize. He hadn’t even taken all of his clothes off, but he had no patience for it. It seemed irrelevant, a trite consideration compared to how much he needed to be inside Will.

And maybe he wasn’t being very rational, but he didn’t think anyone could have blamed him. Will definitely didn’t. “Please,” he gasped out, having apparently mustered enough composure for this demand. “Dean... Please.”