A Call from the Heart

Ranald carefully lifted himself up slightly before sinking down again, drawing a low moan from his lover. At the second uplift, the wolf-man's fist on his aching flesh tightened, stroking the Nosferatu harder. They kept their eyes locked as Ranald slowly raised and lowered himself and then incrementally faster, squeezing his inner muscles to soft whines and low growls of pleasure from his mate.

The Lycan kept one hand on his lover's heated flesh, pumping it instinctively with Ranald's rhythm, drawing frequent moans from his mate's gently panting mouth. The other hand roamed freely over the body he was learning intimately. The Lycan was secure in the knowledge that no other had touched his mate like this. This sweetness was his and his alone. None had experienced the touch of his mate, or the beguiling way Ranald's eyes widened at first breech. He watched enraptured as Ranald raised himself up again until only the head of his staff was still inside his mate's body and then lowered himself quickly, squeezing his muscles to drawing a loud growl from the Lycan's lips. The wolf-man shifted, wrapping his free hand around his mate's body and pulling him down to meet his lips while thrusting inside the scorching heat that clung to him.

Ranald did not care that the Lycan's thrusts did not reach deeply or that the new position forced him into an awkward angle, because he was writhing in the Lycan's arms and moaning into his mouth. He felt the bigger man let his free hand slide up Ranald's back to gently score clawed nails down damp skin, making the Nosferatu shudder with pleasure. He jerked in the Lycan's arms, his breath coming in raid gasps as the wolf-man squeezed his sex and raked his back in tandem.

Pleasure was building up low in the Lycan's stomach threatening to spill over at any second. The sight of his mate, the young male's skin luminescent in the light of the moon, dark hair spilling past slender shoulders and the beautiful visage aglow with their shared pleasure made him howl softly with unbridled joy. A change in motion forced his throbbing maleness deeper into Ranald's body, rubbing the slighter man's jewel and Ranald came with a drawn out moan, his seed pulsing over the wolf-man's chest and stomach in powerful spurts. The Lycan growled as his staff was squeezed strongly by the Nosferatu's clenching channel. Thrusting up into the heat enveloping him, he let his own completion rush through him and he came deep inside his mate, claiming the young male as his own once more.

Still quivering with pleasurable aftershocks and the thick flesh of his lover still impaling him to his heart, Ranald let himself sink down bonelessly against the Lycan's chest, joining their mouths in a tender, unhurried kiss. He smiled to himself as he realised how quickly the Lycan had learnt to kiss, the powerful jaws and sharp teeth wielded with care and precision to dispense pleasure.

"I love you," he whispered and smiled into the beloved chest as his words were followed by a soft whine and a tightening of the strong arms enveloping him. "Rest, my love," he crooned. "We will spend this night loving each other until the moon sets, there is no haste."

He felt the Lycan's body relax beneath him, although his mate's manhood remained half-hard, lodged within him. Nestling happily, feeling completed, safe and loved beyond any doubt, the Nosferatu drifted, awaiting his mate's awakening.

****

A year sped by in the blink of an eye and, once more, it was Allhallows Eve. Ranald ran through the forest, listening for the harsh breathing of his pursuer, certain he could reach his home before he could be caught. He stopped to hear better. He changed his angle and ran again. He gracefully vaulted a fallen log and gasped as strong arms enveloped him and he and his captor tumbled to the ground.

"I have you," Dunstan growled into a small ear. "Now what shall I do with you?"

Ranald laughed at the big blond who sat astride him with a feigned look of confusion.

"Have you *no* ideas?" he asked, fluttering long eyelashes and pushing his hips suggestively against Dunstan's body.

"Insatiable," Dunstan said with a put-upon sigh that was as insincere as the confused mien had been. He then bent down to possess the alluring, pouting lips of his heartmate. "Let us return home, my beloved. I would prefer our bed tonight." He stood, drawing Ranald into his arms to kiss him tenderly. He wrapped an arm around Ranald's trim waist and they walked towards their cottage in the wood, murmuring words of love and trading soft, sweet kisses.

Dunstan had no regrets about leaving his home town. He had been welcomed with open arms into Ranald's family. They had also taken Verena with them as she had no desire to be left behind. There would be a full moon that night, but he no longer feared them. They would spend the time loving each other; Lycan and Nosferatu, Dunstan and Ranald. Thanks to Ranald's love they were both free to be themselves and Dunstan would forever be grateful that the call of his heart had been heard and answered.