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That’s what Odin wanted, what it would take to calm the swirling, chaotic mess his thoughts had become after that tussle with Isa. He wanted, no, he needed to know that Hunter was his, without a shadow of a doubt, and that no one would ever be able to take him from him.
“What happened to wanting all of me?” Hunter asked.
“I’ll have all of you,” he practically growled. “I’ll have all of you so that nobody else can. Not so much as a single piece of you has a hope of escaping me, so give,” he punctuated those last two words with another roll of his hips, “in.”
Odin settled himself over Hunter, chest to chest, one hand going to his wrists, still held above his head even though it’d been a while since Odin had released them, the other tipping his chin up to meet his gaze.
“Yield,” he whispered, lowering his forehead until he could rest it against the other man’s. His skin was hot to the touch. When he spoke next, there was no hiding the almost pleading tone from either of them. “Yield, Hunter.”
“Now who’s trying to hide?” Hunter said. “You want me to give in so you can tell yourself you didn’t take me against my will. But if I don’t, that’s exactly what you’ll do.”
Odin clenched his jaw shut tightly.
“See? You’re no better than I am. Memories? Sure, I’ll play. What I remember is having to watch in the shadows as you and Isa snuck off to fuck in the gardens. Or the bathroom. Or the laundry room. There was one time even you guys did it in the dining room in your father’s seat. I remember that trapped feeling I got the second Isa ordered me to shoot you, the hopelessness I felt when I saw that photo of Meg, tied up and bleeding.”
He went to pull away, but this time it was Hunter keeping him still, tightening his legs around his waist to keep him there and force him to listen.
“People like me don’t get a choice, Snow. We never did and we never will. Yield?” He snorted. “We’re at a stalemate, mighty Dominus,” he sneered the title mockingly, “and if one of us has to take the hit, it sure as hell isn’t going to be me. So,” lifting his head from the cushion, he brought his lips right up to Odin’s, so they were a mere breath apart, “you want me? Then take me. And feel shitty about it every step of the way.”
Hunter wanted to pretend he wasn’t into this, wasn’t into Odin, and Odin wanted to pretend he wasn’t forcing his hand.
He was right. They were at a stalemate.
“Okay,” Odin decided, “I can do that for you, Little Whisper. However,” he made sure to pause long enough for Hunter to see the wicked smirk on his face before he flipped him over in one fast move, “who said anything about having to take steps?”
He dragged Hunter’s body up until his chest was pressed against the armrest, then yanked his pants and his underwear the rest of the way off. The remaining scrap of his shirt was next, until he had the other man naked before him and practically presenting himself in his current position.
When Hunter tried to rise, he planted a palm on the back of his neck and shoved him back in place, settling more comfortably on his knees at his back, using them to force Hunter’s legs further apart.
“We aren’t going anywhere,” he told him, “We’re going to stay right here until the mating is complete, and then, the first step either of us takes,” he licked his way up Hunter’s spine and then blew on the wet stripe he’d left, “is going to be as a bound couple.”
Hunter shivered, but Odin saw his hole clench, noticed how his dick hung heavier between his thighs, the rosy head practically smearing precome all over the leather cushion beneath him.
“Feel this, Huntsman?” he reached around him and grabbed at his dick, squeezing at the base with enough pressure to have the other man writhing in his hold. “Your body knows who it belongs to. Let’s work on getting your mind to catch up.”
He collected the wetness dripping from Hunter’s tip, smearing it down his own length and then returning for more. It wasn’t until the third time he did so that Hunter seemed to realize what was about to happen.
“Snow.” Hunter swallowed, loud enough it was audible, and looked at him over his shoulder as best he could with his neck still being held in place.
“This is going to hurt,” Odin warned, “but only for a moment. I promise.”
This wasn’t how he’d pictured their mating either, but they’d wasted too much time talking and that exhaustion from earlier was creeping up on him again. He’d been an idiot for allowing Isa to rile him up so much. That burst of power was costing him now.
If he was nicer, he’d call this whole thing off and try again in the morning after he’d recharged from sleep.
But he wasn’t.
He notched his thick cockhead against Hunter’s entrance, taking in the sheer size of himself in contrast to the smaller man. Ironic, how once he’d been the smaller of the two. It wasn’t the first time the Huntsman was taking his cock, however. He could handle it.
With a sharp flick of his hips, Odin seated himself all the way to the hilt, the feel of Hunter’s tight body stretching and compressing around him forcing a deep groan that rumbled up his chest.
Hunter’s sound was a little different, a sharp intake that clearly indicated he was in pain, and a mild attempt to pull free, which Odin easily quashed by tightening his grip on his nape.
“Open for your Shout,” he demanded, holding himself taught despite how badly he wanted to move, giving Hunter time to adjust to his girth. Even though it was risky, he poured his power into the other man where they connected, using the heat to soothe his tense muscles until some of the painful clenching eased enough that Odin could glide slowly out and back in again with less resistance.
Hunter seemed to melt, his gasps turning to moans as Odin slid in and out of him. Eventually, his eyes drifted shut, his lips parted, fingers clawing at the arm of the couch.
“There you go, Huntsman,” Odin’s breathing was labored as well, his words coming out breathy, “It’s hot when you resist, but I like seeing you come undone even more.”
