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are you?”
    Terry blinked at him. “What?”
    Morgan leaned in until their noses were practically touching.  “You used your fingers before, but I need you to say it. How old are  you?”
    Terry squeezed his eyes shut, and for a split second Morgan  worried that perhaps he was hurting the smaller man.
    Then he looked up and noted the way Terry’s fingers had gone  again. Terry looked at them, too, squinting his eyes to see them right.
    One hand with two fingers up, and the other with three.
    “Two, three,” he said.

    Mated to the Wild Omega                      39

    “Twenty-three?” Morgan clarified.
    “I…Yes. Twenty-three. I am twenty-three,” he said with
    conviction in his voice.
    More than old enough, though he was still so damn young.
    Still, the knowledge that he wasn’t pinning down a minor and pressing his cock into his hip was freeing, and this time, Morgan was the one to initiate their kiss.
    He released Terry’s hands, allowing the omega to do what he wanted with them. The first thing he did was stick them in Morgan’s hair and grip as tightly as he could.
    It hurt, but he liked it. It was a good kind of pain. Despite how much the pain seemed to heighten the pleasure, Terry’s kisses became biting and soon let Morgan know that he should be taking command of the situation a little better than he was.
    He thrust against the other man, grinding their cocks together.  Terry was not quiet as he voiced his pleasure. He threw his head back and moaned out loud.
    Terry’s legs spread and came around Morgan’s hips, locking together at the ankles, and he was thrusting against Morgan’s cock with all the grace of a virgin.
    Morgan was torn between whether or not he wanted that to be a reality.
    “Fuck me. Want you to claim me,” Terry said, reaching his hand down to stroke his dick.
    Morgan couldn’t allow him to get off before he was inside of him, so he quickly grabbed hold of Terry’s hand and thrust it above his head again.
    “Not until I say,” Morgan said with a growl.
    “Fuck me!” Terry demanded.
    He was so impatient. Clearly they couldn’t draw this out as much as Morgan would have preferred, but that was all right. He wanted nothing better than to be inside that tight ass as quickly as possible.
    Morgan lifted himself up so that he was on his knees on the bed,

    40                            Marcy Jacks
    and he spat into his hand, bringing his fingers down to Terry’s pucker.
    Terry was still thrusting his hips, and this time, when he reached  down to grip his dick, Morgan let him. “Yes, fuck me, yes,” he hissed,  stroking himself as Morgan pressed his fingers inside that tight hole.
    “Be patient,” Morgan said with a grunt as those fingers stroked  him. He had no lube on him and didn’t have the presence of mind to  go and search for any. Terry was a werewolf, he would be fine  without it so long as Morgan didn’t rush too much, and the fact that  they were claiming each other would make it easier as well.
    Terry continued to kiss and nuzzle his jaw as Morgan fingered  him, and as he expected, the other man hardly seemed to notice that  there was nothing to ease the way. He was so eager to mate. He was  eager to be fucked.
    How long had it been since he’d had a lover? It surprised him to  realize that he couldn’t pinpoint an exact time, but it had definitely  been a while ago, and none of them had made him quite as wanton as  Terry did.
    It had to be the mate thing. This proved that they were mated.
    Morgan couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed the  sensation of having his fingers sucked into that warmth so much or  feeling this anxious to be inside of it.
    Terry was eagerly humping against his fingers now, and his fist as  he worked his cock. Oddly, he was no longer staring down at himself  or trying to see what Morgan was doing between his legs. Now, he  was looking at Morgan’s