In a world where reproduction is the number one priority, a gay wolf shifter could never be an alpha. So Logan hides his secret from the pack and resigns himself to a life without love.
Then one night, he finds his true mate and he’s forced to make a choice.
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Read on for an excerpt!
Logan
set Rory on the wood floor. It would do, he’d slept on worse. Logan opened a
cedar chest and took out a thick quilt. He laid it on the floor under a window.
“It’s late. You can sleep here.” Logan pointed to the coverlet.” If you decide
to shift, you can share my bed. It’s big enough for two.”
No thanks. But Rory couldn’t deny that
he was tempted as he watched Logan undress. The man was sex on a stick with his
strong jaw, straight nose, and dark intense eyes. Why were alphas always so
damn good-looking? And straight as an arrow? Probably so they would attract the
best bitches in the pack. Rory sighed. Logan looked even better with his
clothes off. He had sexy chest hair and a dark curly bush that Rory wanted to
bury his nose in. He imagined himself licking that half-hard dick to erectness.
Down boy! He was tempted to shift,
but good sense won out. If he didn’t stay in his fur, he would really be
fucked.
Logan
flopped onto the bed and lay flat on his back. He tugged on his cock until it
stood straight up like a flagpole. Rory’s penis came out of its sheath and he
whimpered. Thankfully, Logan was too busy jacking off to notice.
The
Alpha bent his muscular legs and continued stroking his thick cock. The head
flushed purple and pre-cum leaked from the slit. The musky scent drove Rory
crazy. Slithering on his belly like a snake, Rory inched toward Logan’s dirty
clothes on the floor. Rolling on them as best he could, he took comfort in
Logan’s scent. But his gaze remained fixed on the man.
Panting
now, Logan worked his cock harder and faster, tugging his balls with his other
hand. His heavy breathing and the sound of his fist moving up and down his
shaft made Rory hot and horny. Logan’s thighs went tense, and his hand moved so
fast it blurred.
Rory’s
anticipation built as he watched Logan stroke his hard length one final time.
Thick threads of cum burst into the air. Rory ached to lick the creamy white
liquid off Logan’s chest.
Logan
stilled for a few minutes, and then glanced around the room. His eyes lit on
Rory humping his jeans. Caught, Rory froze. A sly smile seemed to dance on
Logan’s lips. His voice was low and sexy. “Pleasant dreams, boy.” Then he
rolled over and promptly fell asleep.
Rory’s
canine libido was in overdrive. A little more rubbing action on the denim and
he shot his load. Then he settled down on the jeans, and in a few minutes his
eyelids grew heavy, and he felt himself drifting off to sleep, too.
Author Bio and Links
Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the
kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on
a pad and pencil.
Some things never change.
Happy Reading!
Thanks so much for having me! xx
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