Slow Shift, Nazarea Andrews [english love story books TXT] 📗

school, and Ryan who he does his best to not think about at all—but there’s never been anyone like Tyler.

Tyler is sharp nipping teeth and gentle petting hands, tiny gasps when Chase rolls his hips and a deep rumbling groan when he bares his neck. He’s everything Chase didn’t dare imagine, and everything he did. Chase thinks he could come, could get drunk off just this, just the delicious thrust of Tyler’s tongue and the sharp rasp of stubble dragging over his skin.

He whines when Tyler steps back, reaching for him as he twists away, and Tyler blinks. There’s a hint of the wolf in his voice, a gleam of too sharp teeth, blue bleeding into watercolor as he says, “Stay with me?”

A tiny smile ticks up the corners of Chase’s lips. “Yeah. Of course.”

~*~

He doesn’t say always. He thinks it’s far too soon and probably far too late to be making promises like that.

He’s pretty sure Tyler hears it anyway.

~*~

Tyler strips Chase carefully, baring his long pale body with a reverent care that makes Chase itch to squirm and also want to remain still forever, for as long Tyler needs this. Even when Tyler kneels and peels his sticky ruined boxer briefs off him, he doesn’t flinch or shy away, allowing Tyler to look his fill.

“You’re beautiful,” Tyler breathes, and Chase makes a choked noise. Tyler surges to his feet, pulling Chase into a filthy kiss, hands digging in and holding on almost desperately. Chase takes a step back, falling onto the bed and dragging Tyler with him. He groans at the weight of the older man on him, his legs coming up to wrap around Tyler’s waist.

“Chase,” Tyler groans. “I want—” He bites off the words with a whine when Chase slips a hand between them, stroking him over the rough denim, and Tyler’s hips buck up, desperate.

It’s shockingly arousing, watching Tyler lose himself like this. He wonders how far he can push, what pretty noises he can pull out of him. He scratches a hand through Tyler’s hair and murmurs, “You’re overdressed for this.”

Tyler pushes up and stares at him, intent. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” Chase says simply. It’s always been simple for him.

Desiret flickers in his gaze, his pupils blown with lust, but he frowns. “Chase, I can’t lose you because we don’t work out.”

Chase’s magic, usually tucked safely behind the walls in his mind, roars to the surface, burning in his eyes and tattoos, the designs on his arm flaring to life. Even his Celtic knot shines with a flickering firelight. Chase wraps his mind around the Pack bonds, his bond to the Reid territory and his wolves, to Tyler, and yanks.

Tyler shudders, his whole body moving, serpentine sweet, against him, and he can feel Lucas’s aroused fury through the bond. He releases that and strokes a finger down Tyler’s back, pets a sparking line of power down the bond they share.

“You can feel that,” he says, and Tyler gasps through the touch. “I’m not going anywhere,” Chase says. “No matter what happens between us. I belong to you and the Pack.” He drags Tyler’s head up and meets his eyes. He knows his own are burning, hot promise and want. “I’m yours, Tyler.”

Just like that, the last walls between them shatter like glass.

~*~

There’s a part of him that wants to race through this, wants to pin Chase down, hold him still and work him open, fuck him into the mattress, come in him so deep that he’ll always be there.

There’s a part of him, tiny but persistent, that says he won’t get to keep this.

But there’s Chase, his hands steady as he pulls Tyler down on him, his magic a constant caress against their Pack bond, and it settles him.

He can have this. He can have him.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Chase complains, shifting restlessly. Tyler grins, nipping at his lips, then pulls away. Chase immediately reaches for himself, jacking himself almost lazily, and Tyler almost swallows his tongue, losing track of what exactly he’s supposed to be doing as he watches those long fingers stroking—

“Gonna join the party?” Chase teases.

Tyler gives him a bitchy glare before he finishes stripping and crawls back onto the bed, settling between Chase’s legs and leaning down to press his nose into the place where his smell is strongest, the crease of groin and hip. The skin there is pale and white, speckled with a single tiny mole, thin and rich—so fucking rich with Chase’s scent he moans, presses harder into him while Chase pets through his hair.

Chase’s hand is shaking, just a little bit, his whole body strung tight, vibrating with need. Tyler lifts his head up. Chase stares at him, eyes shiny and blown to hell, mouth open. There’s a sheen of sweat on his lip that Tyler wants to lick and a desperation to his clutching hands that makes the wolf in him howl.

“I’m going to ruin you,” Tyler growls, then slides his mouth over Chase’s cock.

Chase groans, his hand in Tyler’s hair gripping brutally tight, making Tyler’s cock jerk in pure want. He groans at the taste of Chase, even better than his scent. The familiar salty musk, the weight of Chase on his tongue, the way Chase isn’t even trying to hold back—he’s cursing, filthy and constant, as he uses that hand in Tyler’s hair to move him, fucking his long cock into the back of Tyler’s throat. He feels a hot pulse of precome oozing from the tip and digs his nails, blunt human nails, into Chase's hips, whining when Chase drags him off his dick with a wet pop.

“Don’t—don’t wanna come like this,” he grits out as Tyler stares up at him, dazed. “Want you inside me, baby.”

Tyler nods, licking his lips. “Yeah. I—yeah.”

Chase grins at him, then scrambles away, twisting, long pale limbs moving quick and sure. Tyler groans as he settles on his hands and knees, ass thrust back like a fucking gift.

Chase gasps, chokes out his name,