Born to Be Wylde by Jan Irving Page B

ordered in a raspy tone, and Wylde did, his legs spread as he sat on one side of the bed, his prick full and aching…. Ken used the feathers on his chest, drawing a line in the center and then lightly dancing over his nipples.
    “ Ken!” Wylde spread his legs wider, his hand going down to roll his balls as the tip of his penis and his nipples prickled with sensation.
    “I’m going to write a kanji on your skin. That is a Japanese symbol. If you guess the word, I’ll kiss you… somewhere.” Ken’s eyes were sparkling. Wylde loved this part of him, like when he’d been inside him, thrusting, and Ken had scratched the side of the tub.
    “Okay.” He would let his mate do whatever he wanted. “And Wylde… I, uh, want to go slow, okay?” Ken’s eyelashes covered his eyes so Wylde couldn’t read his expression.
“Slow,” Wylde repeated. His brow furrowed. “But last night….”
“It was great but I… didn’t come,” Ken admitted.
Wylde swallowed, reaching for the long braid Ken had made of his hair. His face heated. “The men from the disco made you come?”
“Wylde, hey, I told you it was different.”
Wylde pulled his knees up. The stuff on the bed was no longer fun, though he was still hard. He was always hard when Ken was close by.
“You’ve never been with anyone before, right?” Ken asked very gently. He sat down next to Wylde, encompassing him in his arms, kissing the side of his face.
Wylde shook his head. “But I dreamed.” He looked at Ken. “All the time I was alone in the woods….”
“I hope it was special for you.” Ken combed back some wisps of hair from Wylde’s forehead. His almond-shaped eyes were soft and shining.
“It was you, Ken,” Wylde said. “But I didn’t satisfy you. I don’t know how.”
“Sure you do,” Ken disagreed. He pulled Wylde’s hand away from where he had it clenched around his knee. He knitted their fingers together and rubbed his thumb soothingly over Wylde’s palm.
“Smells like berry,” Wylde finally said.
“It’s the powder I dusted on you. It’s raspberry flavored.”
Wylde raised a brow. “Your father wanted us to…?”
“He thinks you’re an alpha male, like in Mom’s books,” Ken said, humor and exasperation in his eyes. “You reminded me of that kind of guy too.”
Suddenly Wylde rolled them both so that Ken was flat on the bed, putting a possessive thigh over Ken’s the way he had in the cave.
“What…?”
Wylde reached for the raspberry powder. He used the feather duster to sprinkle some on one of Ken’s dark copper nipples. Then he licked it, lavishing it with attention.
Ken gasped, his body arching on the bed. “Shit, I’m sensitive there! Wylde, what are you doing?”
“You like that?” Wylde spilled more raspberry on the other nipple, his lips gleaming as he homed in and tasted, his eyelashes closed and quivering over his eyes…. Ken’s body pushed up toward him, flexible, trembling, their cocks brushing together as Wylde’s heavy balls rubbed against Ken’s leg.
“Love….” Ken said.
“Kanji?” Wylde asked.
Ken puffed. “Um. Okay.” He raised a finger and traced a sign in the air. “That’s love, ai.”
Wylde used the feather to write the symbol over Ken’s lower belly, just above his straining cock. He took his time tasting the trail of powder. “Slow,” he whispered. “Slow for Ken?”
“Oh God…. Yes! Yes, very good, Wylde.”
    K EN writhed, the pattern of lips and tongue on his flesh feeling like the trail of a fuse about to light off. “Now let me do you,” he said, getting into their game.
    He thought for a moment, picking up the pouch, and then he wrote two symbols on Wylde’s chest. Wylde shivered in reaction. “More love?” he asked.
    “No,” Ken said, looking at him. “Yuuki , courage. Because leaving your woods and trying to live in the world can’t be easy.”
    Wylde feathered his hand through Ken’s short hair. Ken leaned close and abandoned the powder, and they kissed.