Kyle's fingers slide down to the hot, slick spot between Ashen's thighs, pressing through the wetness to feel the searing heat within.
The second he touches it, a pulse of arousal nearly knocks the breath from him, making his own cock throb painfully, so hard it borders on agony.
Even through the slickness, he can feel how impossibly tight Ashen is, the soft resistance that clutches around his finger like a brand.
He breathes out harshly, forcing himself to go slow, to give Ashen the chance to adjust, to catch his breath, even though every single instinct in him roars for him to just sink in, claim, take, possess.
The wolf inside him snarls, paces, claws at the walls of his chest, the animal's need barely held back as he works one finger in with painstaking patience, feeling Ashen shudder, feeling him tense and then relax, almost chasing his finger with a desperate, needy push.
