Page 101 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

“Are you sure? Because—”

He interrupted me by snatching up my hand and pressing it firmly against the bulge in his jeans.

“What happened to the bringing me pleasure thing?” he rasped, challenge sparkling in his eyes.

I had his jeans unbuttoned and down his legs at what surely was the speed of light, my hands shaking with eagerness. The sight of so much newly exposed Felix made my mouth water—long, honey-toned legs scattered with fine dark hair, the sharp jut of his hipbones, the tantalizing stretch of his black boxer briefs.

I drank in every inch of him, memorising the way his chest rose and fell rapidly beneath his hoodie, the contrast between the soft fabric and his bare legs. The glasses perched on his nose only added to the combination—studious and innocent and absolutely wreckable.

“Remember,” I said, settling more comfortably between his thighs. “All you have to do is sit there and enjoy yourself. We can stop at any time.”

“I won’t want you to stop,” Felix said.

The certainty in his voice ignited something savagely primal in me. “That’s not how this works.” I gave his thigh a light slap—just enough to make him hiss. “Close your eyes if you want,” I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Felix immediately allowed his eyes to flutter shut, though he didn’t appear relaxed at all—his hands gripping the arms of the chair like he needed an anchor.

So I started slowly, my palms running up and down his stomach through his hoodie, feeling the muscles jump and quiver under my touch. My fingers found the hem of the fabric and slipped underneath, exploring the warm expanse of skin, mapping every dip and curve.

When I reached the waistband of his briefs, I traced the elastic with one finger, watching goosebumps break out across his stomach. Felix’s hips shifted restlessly, his cock straining visibly against the black fabric, a small wet patch already forming where the head pressed against the cotton.

“Please,” Felix whispered, then immediately bit his lower lip, flushing deeply.

“You can ask for whatever you want,” I murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his hipbone. “I want to hear what you need, sweetheart.”

Felix’s breath hitched, and for a moment it seemed like he was about to open his eyes, but they remained closed, almost stubbornly so, squeezed together.

“You said you wanted my mouth everywhere, is that right?”

He nodded, once.

I hooked my fingers in the waistband and pulled down slowly, inch by torturous inch. His cock sprang free, long and flushed and absolutely perfect. My mouth went dry at the sight of him—slender and elegant, the head already glistening with moisture, practically begging for my touch. My tongue. My throat.

The dark hair at the base was neatly trimmed. Had he done that for me? For this, right now? The thought sent a dizzying spiral of heat through me.

I reached out with trembling fingers, wrapping my hand around him for the first time. Felix’s cock was hot and heavy in my palm, the skin impossibly velvet soft.

“God,” I breathed, my thumb brushing over the head, spreading the moisture there. Felix whimpered, his hips jerking into my grip.

I started stroking slowly, marvelling at the way he felt in my hand, the way his breath caught with every movement, how his stomach muscles clenched and released with each gentle stroke. I squeezed gently at his base to ground myself in the moment. This was Felix. This was real. I finally had him in my hands.

I leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss to the tip of his cock, my lips barely grazing the sensitive skin. Felix’s entire body jolted like I’d given him an electric shock, a sharp intake of breath echoing through his lair.

The taste of him hit my tongue—salty but also so, so sweet—and my wolf went absolutely feral. Every rational thought scattered as violent need roared through me, demanding more, demanding everything. I had to grip his thighs to steady myself, my fingers digging into the soft flesh as I fought for control.

Two years. Two bloody years I’d been fantasizing about this exact moment, and the reality was so much better than anything my imagination had conjured.

I kissed my way up the length of him, mapping every inch with my mouth, his cock twitching and jumping under my attention. When I reached the head again, I laved my tongue over the flushed tip, collecting more of my precious prize.

Felix made a broken sound above me, his hips shifting restlessly in the chair. The taste of his precum on my tongue sent another wave of desperate hunger through me, and I had to swallow hard to keep myself from doing something ridiculous like growling.

“Oh, Felix,” I whispered against his skin. “You taste incredible.”

I took his head into my mouth properly this time, my lips stretching around his shaft as I sucked gently. The weight of him on my tongue, the way he filled my mouth perfectly—it was everything I’d dreamed of and more.

Felix’s breathing turned erratic above me, each exhale a soft pant that made my own length throb painfully in my jeans. I was desperate to touch myself, to relieve some of the pressure, but I resisted. This was entirely about Felix, and would be for a long, long time yet.

I pulled back slowly, swirling my tongue around his glans before sinking down again, taking more of him this time. The rhythm felt natural, instinctive, like my mouth remembered exactly how to do this despite the years of abstinence.