Page 22 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

Without another word, Cam pulled his fingers out of me. Before I could complain, he’d replaced them with the head of his cock, slowly breaching me. I inhaled through my nose, then let my head drop back, my eyes fluttering shut.

Never in my life had it felt so good to be penetrated—and I generally enjoyed bottoming. Someone had called me a twink, and well, they weren’t wrong.

“Fuck.” That was Cam, his voice a rough whisper, and his handscurled over my hips, fingers digging in. I swore I felt the prickle of claws. “Wyatt.”

My dick jumped again, hearing him say my name like that. Reverent. Ecstatic. Like I was the best damn thing he’d ever had. Like I was the only thing in his whole damn world.

He pushed deep into me, one long, slow stroke. “Yes,” I hissed, digging my own nails into the skin of his belly.

I caught his amber gaze again. “God, Wyatt,” he started, and I gritted my teeth and rocked on him, which forced him to stop speaking, his eyes going wide and his mouth forming ano.

I leaned down, tangling one hand in his sandy blond locks, twisting. “Shut up and fuck me, Cameron.”

For a couple of seconds, he was stock-still, shock etched on his face. Then his expression melted into something wicked, and he grinned up at me, eyes flashing mischief. “You asked for it,” he growled, gripping my hips as he lifted up.

How exactly he flipped us over, I don’t know, but he managed it, dropping me back to the floor, my legs wide. He drove in again a second later, slamming into me with the same force, then drawing back, only so he could thrust in again. He picked up steam, pistoning his hips back and forth, building speed with every stroke, until there was a steady, punishing rhythm, him driving into me, thumping me against the floor, me trying to follow whenever he drew back.

He scrabbled at me with his hands, and I imagined I could feel his claws pricking my skin. I wrapped myself around him, clamping my legs around his waist, trying to draw him deeper, desperate to reach the ache in my middle. I dragged my nails down his back, tipping my head back as I cried out—what, I didn’t know. It might have been his name, especially when he slammed into my prostate. I arched up against him, panting, cock drooling precum all over my belly. Flesh smacked into flesh, and I groaned, imagining cuts and bruises tomorrow, myskin bearing the marks of his claim.

Claim?Some distant, hazy part of me scoffed at the idea, but I shuddered anyway. Right here and now, I wanted him to own me. I wanted to be his, in every sense of the word.

I slid trembling hands through his hair, letting my fingers catch on unruly tangles, tugging gently.

He leaned forward, pressing his nose to my neck. My eyes shot open, and I stared at the ceiling. I clutched harder at his hair, my breath coming ragged as he nosed at my jugular.

Fear, anticipation, desire—something—unfurled in my belly, hot enough to burn, and I bucked with it, suddenly wild. Those teeth—fangs—and he could—

“Oh, fuck,” I croaked, just before I spilled between us, screwing my eyes shut. “Cam, I want—I want you to—”

I couldn’t quite get out the wordbite, but he nipped at my neck, and I groaned, turning my head to the side, still shuddering with the aftershocks of release.

Cam was panting, “Fuck, fuck,” softly beside my ear, and my insides twisted with red-hot need, despite the fact I’d just come.

What thefuck.

Cam, if he noticed, didn’t seem to care that I’d blown my load and was still hard. After a couple more thrusts, I didn’t care either—the only thing I had capacity to care about was how good it felt, pleasure rippling through me, right down to my now-curled toes.

Cam was still hammering away, a man on a mission. I writhed and yelled under him, the pleasure coiling around into pain. When I glanced up, his eyes were glazed, pupils blown; I wasn’t sure he was seeing anything in the room any longer.

Hesitantly, I touched a hand to his face. “Are you close?” I managed, my voice ragged.

He shook his head minutely. I frowned, ready to protest—I was gonna have to ask him to pull out, because it was really getting tobe too much for me.

“Knot,” he choked out, and I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant.

Then I let it fall open even more as he slammed into me, deeper than before, and I felt something even wider than his cock stretching me open.

I caught his gaze again. “Shifter,” he exhaled. “Coyote.”

I wanted to ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean—I knew he was a coyote shifter; I’d literally watched him shift. He must have seen the question on my face, because he grunted, “Dogs, Wyatt.”

And it clicked. “Oh” was all I could manage as I realized what he was talking about.

I was a vet. I’d seen plenty of dog dicks, in various states. I’d learned all about how male dogs tied together with female dogs—a process calledknotting.

Wolves did it. So did coyotes.

And so did Cam, apparently.