“How many drugs did Nathan give him?”
Nathan was the man in charge of going out on raids, and he had been the man to put Conrad’s plan into motion, which was how the king of wolves had gotten to be here now.
John shrugged. “Well, I’m not sure. Maybe he’s still fine. We haven’t gone in to check on him for the last two hours.”
Conrad had some thoughts about that, but he wasn’t about to give either man grief over it either. There was a steel door separating them from a dangerous werewolf, and there were enough humans in this building that were afraid of being anywhere near the man that it was hard to find people who would check on him.
Conrad wasn’t afraid. He wanted to look this wolf in the eyes and see if there was anything remotely human inside of him.
“Well, if he is awake and something happens, you guys are right out here with your weapons. I’ll be fine. Really, I just need a minute to speak with him.”
John sighed, but then he shrugged and used his keycard to unlock the door. The upside about living in a world where everything was electronic was the fact that Conrad could hack it all, even without a keycard, but it was just good manners to ask permission for something first.
The door opened, and John and the other guard stepped out of the way, allowing Conrad inside of the room. At first, he had trouble seeing, but then his eyes adjusted to the dim glow of the only lamp inside of the room, and the man who was chained to the wall.
He was huge. There was no other word to describe it. Conrad had seen humans on steroids who weren’t as big as this guy was. Though he was chained down, there was still enough slack given so that he could move around, but barely, and when his pale-blue eyes landed on Conrad, they turned bright red, and for whatever reason, seeing that was enough to make Conrad’s dick twitch and his pulse race.
The king of werewolves was gorgeous. Conrad had seen his pictures before, and he’d thought he’d known what to expect, but it wasn’t this. The need to get down on his knees and press his tongue to the man’s chest in worship was definitely not part of the plan.
Ludwig Van Amadus’s eyes roamed up and down Conrad’s body, and then he snorted and looked away, as if he wasn’t impressed by what he saw.
Conrad was used to not being all that impressive, and he hadn’t expected the king of werewolves to be polite or anything, but the dismissal struck him like a thin knife through the ribs.
Whatever drugs the king had been pumped full of were clearly not affecting his mind, because he looked as aware of his surroundings as Conrad was. If there was anything left in his system, then it was likely just enough to keep him from breaking his chains.
“We’ll be right out here if you need anything,” John said.
Conrad jumped a bit. He’d damn near forgotten that he was still being watched, and he nodded to both men before the heavy door shut behind him, locking him inside of this cell with his greatest enemy.
His greatest enemy, who he currently had a hard-on for. He was so fucked.
“So, what is your purpose within these walls?” Ludwig asked, grabbing Conrad’s attention.
When Conrad looked at him, the king’s red eyes were back on his face. Conrad cleared his throat and tried to stand a little straighter without giving away the fact that his leg was really starting to hurt him. “I’m the one who figured out your schedule for the day, hacked into the cameras around your tower, and then gave the men here the time when you were most likely to ditch the other werewolves you were with to go hunting on your own.”
Ludwig’s eyes widened considerably at that. “You hacked…You’re The Fox?”
The Fox was a nickname that the patrol officers of Serenity Sea had given Conrad, thanks to the fact that he was always playing tricks on them and was hard to catch.
The fact that he occasionally left little fox symbols in with his programs, leaving them behind on the screens of the watchers in the royal patrol, sort of encouraged the name as well.
Conrad had chosen it because he wanted the guards he played his tricks on to know that he was no friend of theirs.
Ludwig actually smiled at him. “You know that when wild wolves catch foxes, they tend to kill them, right?”
Conrad barely contained the shiver that passed through his body.
The king chuckled at him, as if this was supposed to be funny.
Conrad felt the unmistakable urge to put the man in his place. “That’s why you’re the one in chains and not me, Ludwig.”
The king stopped chuckling, and he glared at Conrad with everything he was worth, and fuck. That glare made him look ten times more gorgeous than he already was. The man was the kind who looked better when he was angry. That was just fricken’ perfect.
“Do not call me that.”
Conrad crossed his arms. “If you think I’m going to call you your majesty, then you’re out of your damn mind, Ludwig.”
“Do not call me Ludwig,” he demanded. “If you’re going to call me by my given name then you may call me Van. I won’t answer to anything else.”
Conrad was just a little stunned. “You don’t care if I call you by a given name? That’s kind of shocking, considering who you are.”
Lud—Van went back to smirking at him. “It’s the name I’d prefer you called me, as you’re screaming out for me to push my cock into your ass harder.”
“I will tell you my rebuttal to that, after I’ve had my cock in your ass and spilled my seed deep inside. My scent will be all over you. Every wolf will know that you’re mine.”
“Th–That’s not what this is supposed to be,” Conrad said. Fuck, he could barely keep his eyes open with how much pleasure was humming inside of him, building and building, but the same problem plagued him. He couldn’t come, no matter how much he thrust into that amazing hand.
“Fuck! Why can’t I come?” Conrad snapped. He hadn’t meant for that outburst to be out loud.
Van grinned at him. He was seriously enjoying this, the bastard. “Mates tend to go into heat when they find each other. I’ve never heard of a reaction this strong, however. Some can come without the other, some, but not all. The fact that I’m still touching you and you still can’t find release is incredibly interesting.”
Conrad growled at him. “Then hurry up and fuck me!”
Conrad was glad that he’d asked for the guards to take a break. He hadn’t realized that he would be doing so much yelling, or moaning as loud as he was. He just had to hope that no one walked by the door and heard him, now.
Van chuckled, and he released their cocks and reached over for the lubricant that was next to them. He opened the cap and poured some of the clear substance into his hand, and then he stroked his dick with it, leaving the shaft dark and shiny. Conrad’s mouth watered at the sight of it, his pulse raced harder, and he had difficulty taking in a proper breath.
“This is insane,” he said, and then he jumped a little when he felt the swollen head of Van’s cock pressing against his stretched hole.
He was about to be fucked by the king of wolves. This was officially the craziest thing he’d ever done in his entire life, and Conrad had pulled some insane shit when he was picked up to work for the resistance.
“When I do this, you will belong to me,” Van said.
Conrad glared at him. “I donot belong to anyone.”
“Except for me,” Van said, and he pushed forward. When the head of his cock popped through the ring of muscle of Conrad’s pucker, he hissed a bit at the sharp pain that always preluded the pleasure, but then it was instantly gone.
Conrad shook his head. “I don’t belong to you!”
Van pushed deeper. “You already do. You’re mine now.”
Fuck! Conrad reached for the gun that was next to him, but Van was faster as he slapped the thing away, and now Conrad was trapped beneath him, staring up at the huge wolf without the protection of his dart gun.
“It’s not so terrible, belonging to me,” Van said, eyes wide as he stared down at Conrad, panting through the pleasure that he was receiving as well.
Conrad moaned when Van pushed deeper inside, deeper than anyone else had ever been, and somehow, that was a relief.
He had to shake that thought right out of his head. That wasn’t a relief, and neither was this, despite how good it felt.
He had to put a stop to this. He didn’t want to belong to the man. This was just to stop the ache he felt. “I’m not your damn property! Ooooh, fuck!”
“No, you are not,” Van said, and he was balls-deep now. There was no way he could push himself any farther. “But you are still mine.”
“I don’t want to be yours!”
“I have about as much choice in that as you do,” Van said, and he seemed to be having trouble catching his breath as he pulled back, and then shoved forward.
Fuck! Stars! There were stars right in front of Conrad’s eyes and he was coming so damned hard. There was no warning he could give, and nothing he could do to stop it.
Warmth flooded his inside as well, and with shock, the cloud inside of his mind cleared up enough for him to realize that Van was coming as well. The king roared and bit down on the side of Conrad’s throat.
Sharp pain struck, but then it was gone.
The pleasure remained. Van’s dick was still hard as steel inside of him, and Conrad remained hard as well, which was interesting because he tended to get soft immediately after an orgasm.
“That’s what I want,” Van said, and he pulled back and shoved forward again.
Conrad gasped. His balls remained tight and the pleasure continued to build.
“S–Seriously?” he demanded. “I just…fuck! I just came! H–How…”
Van silenced him with a kiss, and he only pulled back when Conrad melted into it, his body calming somewhat. “It’s the mating,” Van said. “We might need more than fifteen minutes.”
“That’s all we have, so you’d better make the most of it,” Conrad said, and instead of trying to push Van away from him, he was now yanking the man closer, his fingernails grabbing and dragging across the warm flesh of the man’s shoulders and spine each time he reared back and plowed forth.
Curses spilled from Conrad’s mouth, and he didn’t care how he sounded, how lewd the slap of their flesh was. He wanted nothing more than this for the rest of his life.
Conrad loved it. He fucking loved the feeling of Van’s cock inside of him, owning him and claiming him. There was nothing better than this, and Conrad squeezed his thighs around Van’s hips. His knee was killing him, but he didn’t care about that either. There was only pleasure, only the mind-numbing, pride-destroying pleasure that made him moan and beg.
He could feel a strange, invisible bond forming between them with each sharp thrust, but “bond” was perhaps the wrong word. It was more like a chain.