Big Salmon Lake summerlight [m]

It was as if Luke's thoughts hummed through the air, and rather than answer to his question, Lasher responded to them. The man had been to him so far an eloquent, gentle lover. There had been nothing in his disposition to lead the white wolf into believing he had a dominant streak in him, and thus Luke was caught off guard when he maneuvered out from under him. He felt the clip of teeth on his ear first and then strong grasp on his nape. His breath hitched, surprised.

"Lasher," he breathed, as his heart pounded in his chest with the excitement of being treated to a side of the man he had never before seen, to a fantasy he entertained but had not expected to come to pass so soon. The strength of the wolf pulling on him demanded he give in, and oh, he wanted to, but Luke also wanted to see and feel more of this assertion, of Lasher.

He planted his haunches on the ground and braced himself so as to not allow himself to be dragged or manipulated so easily. He pushed against his lover, turning to bring his muzzle along side the man's ear. He wore a roguish grin, his voice breathy, low. "Come on then," he coaxed. "Dominate me." He growled, urging. "Take me."