His fangs grew, and the claws pushed at his fingertips, but he managed to halt them. The hand he had in Arlo’s hair slid down his spine, down over the swell of his ass, and despite Arlo tensing under him, he brought his fingers down his crack. That enticing hole was right there, he ran a finger over it, and he did it again. He needed in there.
“Nash.” The word was a warning, but Nash moved his finger again.
“I’d make it good.”
“No, you promised you wouldn’t.”
Had he promised that? He couldn’t remember. Nash blew out a breath to clear his head, but it was no use. He was nothing but a savage roar of desire. The need to plunge into Arlo so great it was painful. He groaned and rested his forehead against Arlo’s shoulder, pumping his hand up and down their lengths, his other hand wandering down to press at the spot behind Arlo’s balls.
“Oh…”
Nash looked up when Arlo slowly pushed against him.