Chapter 2: bedridden (one)

Spike tried not to move. When he had tried before it had hurt more than it had been worth. His vision blurred and focused back up, giving him the impression that he was seeing even more clearly than before.

He felt being touched, too exhausted to flinch or fight back. His body was lifted, the sensation of the wet, cold and hard tile floor disappearing into an unwanted embrace. Spike closed his eyes as tears dropped down his cheeks. The arms that embraced him felt gentle, soft and warm… A complete opposite of the brutality they had dealt him just minutes before. Spike had no strength to even shiver or protest. And he didn’t want to. This was a relief, so pleasant that he let himself be carried without a sound, legs swaying with the motion of the steps.

Spike’s back pressed into something soft and cool. The position he was lying in was comfortable on his aching body. He opened his eyes to see a white ceiling above. He felt his legs being positioned down in the bed, before they were stretched out.

It felt comfortable. He closed his eyes and his head fell to the side.

Swaying on his way to the bedroom, Hunter settled Spike down on the bed, laying the man out flat on his back. Shaking out the towel, he knelt down as he propped up Spike’s limp legs, sliding the towel under his ass, before stretching back out Spike’s legs. Didn’t want his bed ruined from blood and semen, not when it seemed like Spike would be recovering for a while. He knew Spike was perfect for him the moment they spoke; that fire and tenacity.

Sighing, he sat down, eyes roaming over the bitch’s body. There were bruises all over Spike’s thighs and cock, even the bitch’s stomach was freshly bruised from how he'd fucked his way into the cub’s body. Nipples red and sore looking, bitten and sucked raw, the man’s throat and shoulders a mess of bites and suck marks. Hunter felt a sting of guilt over what he’d done. Even if a part of him felt Spike had deserved some kind of punishment, this… This was too far.

Frowning, he got up, heading back to the kitchen, adjusting his boxers, tucking his sore cock back carefully. He dug through his drawers for straws, getting out a glass and filling it with water. Heading back, he paused at the door. Did Spike deserve his kindness? He knew some of the crimes Spike had committed, and the bitch was from the Hunt. Still, he wanted him alive. Breathing in deeply, he walked back in.

“Here. Drink.” Hunter ordered, holding the glass close, moving the straw so all Spike needed to do was tilt his head slightly. “Can you speak?”

Spike heard a sound, a voice that was very close telling him to drink. He opened his eyes to see a glass of water and a straw and he did what he was told. As he drank in slow small sips his eyes moved, looking up at Hunter's face. Without blinking tears welled up in them and he stopped drinking.

He was... nearly killed . 

How did this happen?

The man asked him if he could speak and Spike was confused. He tried to speak, the word ‘what’ getting choked in his throat. The only thing that came out was a broken sound and a whimper.

He couldn’t speak. Trying to blink his tears away Spike tried to think— recall the last time he had been so injured and broken that he couldn't move nor speak. He really tried to remember. He could only recall the war, days after battle when he had been bedridden, limbs nearly torn off, bones crushed…

Well. The pup was still alive, still able to respond. That was something. Like himself, Spike was a fighter. A proper bitch for himself - one that could take his cock so well while others had died. Broken bones would mend. Hunter would need to be patient, remember how to care for someone while they recovered. The memory was distant, but he could almost recall the vision of a small body in a bed that seemed so large, the smell of fever and illness in the air. He shook his head slightly, dispelling the memory before the ache of it set in.

Hunter gazed down at the broken looking man, reaching out slowly to stroke over Spike’s damp hair, fingers trailing down to feel the cub’s throat. It felt swollen. Possibly a torn larynx from screaming so loudly for so long. He sighed again. He disliked the uncomfortable feeling of guilt swarming his insides. He hadn’t meant to injure Spike like this. His rage… He needed to try and control it better. The bitch seemed to know just how to anger him. Anger and excite him.

“I’ll bring you something to eat in a bit, but you should rest. I understand you heal quickly? Do it as fast as you can.” He gently lifted Spike’s head, wiping away the tears and grime with his thumb. “Take the time to get used to this place. I want you to consider it your home. Our home.”

There was a different kind of look in his eyes as Hunter gazed down at him. He couldn't place it. He could understand it even less when the man reached and gently stroked his hair. He opened his eyes again to look up as he was being spoken to, determining that the tone made something additional hurt in his chest. 

This was a dark stain on Spike’s pride as a strong male and an alpha. But he could erase it easily, he just simply needed to kill the man. Erase his existence off this world. Then this shame would be overcome, his strength would be proven once again—

But then Hunter spoke— How did he know about his heightened regeneration? As if he knew him; he spoke as if this was planned. Like it wasn’t just a random unfortunate breeding… And it sounded like he planned to keep him here.

To consider this place his home ?... 

Spike’s heart was pounding with the realization. He stared in silent terror. He had though perhaps that this man had been taken by his rut, like Spike often was - out of his mind with the desire to fuck and breed. But what was this? Telling him to get used to this place, to accept it as his home? This couldn’t be real.

Spike had a life to go back to - a pack, a bitch and his own damn home —

After dealing with Spike’s antagonism, this silence and staring was almost disturbing. Hunter looked down into the man’s eyes, wondering if his bitch was alright. 

Hunter felt another twist of guilt for hurting the bitch so badly. He hadn’t noticed when Spike’s pelvis had broken, then had let himself fall into bloodlust when fucking Spike viciously on the bathroom floor. This wasn’t the war, and despite being a Hunt wolf, Spike wasn’t his prey. Spike was… perfect . Vicious, strong, with a body that responded fully to his own, even when in pain. He hoped he hadn’t broken him.

Hunter set the glass to the side, shifting in the bed to better face the cub. He reached out again, fingers stroking through that long blond hair, carefully working out tangles. Already the smaller wounds on the man’s face were healing, the bloody nose he’d given him clotted. He trailed his fingers down over the cuts he’d slashed into Spike’s chest, seeing they were already scabbed over. A broken pelvis would be more difficult, but with impressive healing like this, it would probably be no more than a week before Spike would recover. He breathed in deeply, reaching up to rub away the last of the bitch’s tears.

Spike breathed through his nose, no thoughts running through his head - only outrage, fury and fear. He couldn't speak, realizing this for the second time when he opened his mouth but only a broken sound came out as Hunter was stroking his hair. Spike’s body was shaking, not only from the pain he was in but also because he could feel his hair being played with - something he had never allowed to be done freely without permission, not to anyone, not even to his own bitch. 

He closed his eyes as if all of this would disappear like a bad dream. But He felt the fingers that were in his hair move down, sliding softly onto his face. Spike trembled, trying to stay still, gripped by fear. Only moments ago he had been thrown to the floor like a ragdoll. All his strength and reputation had amounted to nothing at that moment. He hadn’t been Spike Bloodhound, the alpha of one of the deadliest packs around - he had just been an injured man at the mercy of another…

Spike had never experienced that in his life. Never before had he been so helpless and afraid—

He didn’t notice when the tears had dripped down his cheeks. His heart felt like it was trapped in a cage, struggling to beat. Hunter continued touching him, hand moving down his chest, over the healing slashes. Spike was shivering, squeezing his eyes shut. He felt the hand move again and this time it came to rub away the tears from his face. Spike’s breathing got shaky as he tried not to choke on the lump in his throat.

“You are mine now, baby.” Hunter murmured softly, “Don’t cry. I will give you everything you’ve always wanted. In the bar, the way you confessed to me your problems with your bitch, and what a good bitch should be… You were so confused and upset, but it's alright. With a strong body like yours it must have been hard looking for a partner that could actually please you. I was stunned that you were still not taken.” He smirked slightly, huffed an embarrassed laugh. “Couldn’t believe my luck. I wanted to claim you so badly right there and then.”

He pulled back, moving down the bed to check Spike’s ass. The bleeding had stopped, though the cub’s anus still looked raw and wrecked. Humming, he leaned back over Spike, looking him in the eyes, his own such a dark blue they seemed almost black.

“My beautiful man,” Hunter murmured, sliding his hand up Spike’s cheek.

The bar? Which bar?...

Spike opened his eyes, trying to think and recall. It was difficult with how out of it he felt. Then he remembered, his breathing caught, stuck in his throat, his eyes got misty again. God, that time… it felt like it had been ages ago, not merely a week.     

Hunter - a man he had struck up a conversation as he had been drinking. Spike had been upset and he had not wanted to go and drink his sorrows at his own bar, managed by his pack. There were some things that he just couldn't discuss with his brothers. He knew that none of them shared his views and opinions on a wolf’s lifestyle and philosophy. It had been a constant issue during the war, Spike needing to drag them by force to follow The Way of the Wolf - the Hunt’s rulebook. Spike did not care for their personal values or opinions. During the war following the rules was the distinction between surviving and dying. And as the alpha Spike had the responsibility to keep his men alive. Even if they hated him for it. 

However, the problem was that Spike really believed in The Way of the Wolf. He understood their logic and the values that they preached. But none of his brothers truly believed. So he had felt lonely in his troubles with his own bitch. He had tried to give freedom but it didn’t feel natural. He had struggled to be tolerant of willfulness and spoiled attitude, but in the end he couldn’t. That was just not the way things were supposed to be. It felt wrong to keep a bitch on a long leash, make it think that it was equal to its owner…

Spike couldn't believe that at the time he had thought this bastard was similar to himself. That he had finally found someone who shared his opinions. It had felt like a connection he had never had. Spike couldn't believe that he had enjoyed that conversation and he had thought well of this man… 

But what the hell was he talking about? The brief conversation he had with the man was just a fleeting complaint. Spike had felt upset that his bitch was hiding from him after getting hurt during Spike’s last rut. He had only wanted to share his opinion, find a sympathetic ear. Getting injured, being too rough - it shouldn’t matter. A bitch was like property - shouldn’t have a say in anything unless allowed to. Spike should have been able to do whatever he wanted to his bitch….

Spike swallowed hard, his stomach suddenly twisting as he heard what Hunter was saying. Spike choked on his breath… This bastard had to be kidding. What was he saying? Claim him? Him? Spike ?

His breathing got shallow, his heart beating frantically. Spike had thought that this bastard had only called him those names to mess with him... But he actually wanted to make him his bitch? No… Just the thought of it made Spike's tremble. The bite marks on his neck and shoulder— those were claiming marks; his body remembered perfectly well the thick cock inside him; what all of that meant. He couldn't help but shiver like a leaf.

This bastard was completely crazy. This couldn’t be— it couldn’t mean that. Spike was not a man who could be turned bitch. It was just not possible.

He tried to move his face away from the hand on his cheek but he only mustered a pathetic whimper, his whole body throbbing from the abuse he had suffered.

The look of understanding, and the fear that came with it, made Hunter smile. Looked like Spike was finally catching on. Did Spike really think he’d bothered to bring him to his home, to let him recuperate, because he was going to let him go? He leaned down, nearly laying on the bed, hovering over Spike.

“Looks like you’re starting to understand…” he rumbled. “You said it in the bar, remember?” He asked, running a hand down Spike’s thigh, feeling it trembling beneath his palm. “How a good bitch should behave? What is expected? I agreed with you then, but could see what you couldn’t through your words.” 

He grinned, rubbing up the inside of the cub’s thigh. He liked the feeling of the wolf’s muscles, the power bunching beneath his hand. If he hadn’t lost control of himself, snapping Spike’s slender pelvis in his rut, they could have fought again for dominance now. Hunter breathed in deeply, smelling the rising fear, stroking down from Spike’s tear covered face to trace around the claim mark on the man’s shoulder.

“The real reason you were struggling, trying to control your bitch?” Hunter continued. “You were one. Needing a strong hand to take control, to show you… Someone powerful enough to manage you. Just as I needed a strong bitch who can withstand me. You’re perfect.”

The shivers seemed to intensify, making him gently squeeze Spike’s thigh near the bitch’s flaccid cock. He smiled, eyes intense as he looked into Spike’s eyes, seeing the disbelief and growing understanding.

“Don’t worry. I’ll wait until you’re healed before fucking you again. But I will. And you’re going to enjoy it.” Hunter nearly purred. “I’ll be sure of that.”

Hunter leaned down further, pressing his mouth to Spike’s, the kiss demanding, dominant, his tongue sliding forward. He growled softly, moving his hand from Spike’s thigh to the man’s side, stroking up his ribs.

Spike was looking at the way Hunter was smiling and it sent chills up his spine. His breathing caught as the man leaned over him... The bastard was huge... He was so huge … 

Spike blinked in confusion. The hand on his thigh made him tremble, unable to breathe. Spike tried his best to move. He couldn't just let this bastard do whatever he wanted. Say whatever he wanted. That it was Spike who had asked for this? That there had been some hidden meaning to his words? It was all bullshit! 

He needed to do something. He couldn’t just accept this. Silence usually meant agreement and he couldn’t allow there to even be a suggestion that he agreed to anything this bastard was saying.

“...not true…” he rasped desperately, words barely recognizable as his throat seized. His eyes watered from the strain on his already damaged vocal cords. It hurt to even swallow his saliva. He didn’t care if it hurt. “ It’s not …”

He willed his arms into moving, but there was barely any strength left in them as he pressed his palm against a bulging bicep and a shoulder made of steel. He gasped and whined when Hunter rubbed on the inside on his thighs, trembling even harder than before. His heart jumped as he felt him squeeze right near his cock that was still throbbing with pain.

"No... " he tried to say with his broken voice before Hunter leaned down and shut him up with a kiss. Spike felt a tear roll down his cheek as the man's lips were powerful and demanding on top of his, pushing his tongue inside Spike’s mouth. As Hunter's hands moved and stroked him, Spike's stomach turned with how much this resembled a lover's touch.

Keep him here? Fuck him again when he was healed? Spike would never allow it. This was not happening. It was some kind of bizarre nightmare. Spike was an alpha. He had a pack, he had a bitch, power, money, property, influence, reputation. He couldn’t be turned bitch. He couldn’t have just lost everything he had. It couldn’t be that there was nothing more to his life than this place and this man….

Kissing Spike was like kissing a frightened virgin. It was soft and sweet but shallow and trembling. Hunter rumbled in pleasure as he kissed down to the cub’s jaw, lightly biting. 

Were it not for the intoxicating smell of fear, the taste of it like bitter orange on the back of his tongue, Hunter almost could have believed Spike was purposefully acting shy to capture his attention. He wasn’t nearly delusional enough to believe that, no matter how appealing it would be: a new bitch, trying to flirt, to tempt him more. 

Spike was hardly anything like those flirtatious bitches he’d seen working street corners, with their pretty faces and delicate bodies. Too dainty and obvious, looking for a client to fill their holes and their pockets. Spike… Spike was a challenge, a sweet prize to be won, vicious enough to answer his own need for dominance with a will Hunter was sure would not break.

“No?” Hunter asked, fingers stroking up to one of Spike’s nipples, the hard bit of flesh already recovering from being bitten and sucked. “You mean I don’t have claim to you as my bitch? I didn’t win our battle? Fuck you? Knot you? Bite you?”

Hunter lifted his head, looking down into the man’s pale eyes. He wondered if he was the first to challenge Hunter’s supremacy since the war. Perhaps even before it. His bitch was powerful, built to be an alpha, but responsive as any good bitch should be. The semen they had both been smeared with was not entirely his own. Despite the protests and fight, Spike had enjoyed much of it.

He wiped away another tear, looking at the bit of moisture on his thumb, before sucking it into his mouth. He smirked, eyes dark, perhaps a bit crazed. Gently, he stroked the bitch’s jaw. There was stubble coming in, prickling and dragging against the calluses of his thumbs uncomfortably. The mark of a virile male. Spike’s body hair was blond as the rest of the wolf’s incredible hair, spilling out over the pillows, but still noticeable, thick over the chest and groin. If Spike was smooth, save maybe for a bit of decorative hair at the groin— he shivered, imagining running his tongue over all that skin, each muscle further defined without a shadow of hair to hide it. It appealed more than he had expected it to.

Spike breathed hard, his mouth open, panting, as Hunter broke the kiss. His mind had already been hazy with his injuries, but now it was also hazy with the lack of oxygen, with Hunter’s heavy scent rubbed into every corner of his body.

The bastard was crazy... No matter how hard Spike tried he couldn't think of a way to get away with his body so broken— Spike gasped, squeezing his eyes shut, as Hunter kissed down his jaw, biting teasingly. He trembled when he felt the man rub his nipple, sensing an unpleasant bit of pressure on that raw bit of flesh. A prickling sensation on his upper back and neck into his stomach, a wave of sensitivity that forced goosebumps on his skin. Spike gritted his teeth.

Spike’s eyes snapped open as the man spoke of their battle and the claiming— His heart was beating wildly, making him feel lightheaded since he had barely managed to escape death just an hour ago. Spike wanted to protest that it had not been a fair fight. That he had been injured beforehand and that the bastard had used his rut to his advantage… But a fight between wolves didn’t have to be fair. There was no ceremony, no duel. It could not be predicted nor could a wolf prepare for it. That was why any wolf needed to be prepared at all times.

But Spike couldn’t accept that he had lost. He had not lost a fight since he was a child, and those had been sparring matches. He had never even lost a ranking battle in the pack. The moment he had been of age to participate, he had won the right to be alpha.

Spike had never lost a fight and there was no way he could believe he had lost this one. A claiming battle - how much more humiliating could it be? To be defeated by a random lone wolf? A fucking outcast bastard ?...

His eyes shook as he saw the man lick up his tears. There was something terrifyingly intimate about it. As the man stroked his jaw, something in him desperately whispered about danger. Spike could see something in his eyes, as if the man was thinking really hard about something he would really enjoy.

Hunter let his eyes trail over Spike’s face, liking how the wolf didn’t shy from meeting his gaze. He couldn’t stand how the street roaming bitches would avert their gaze, looking away shyly. Perhaps that act worked on other wolves, but Hunter longed for the fight, for an equal. Spike was worlds different than those scented, pampered looking wolves, prowling the street for money and a hard cock. His bitch had been untouched before he claimed him, ass so tight, and the fight in him strong. He just needed the man’s submission, to build that willingness to accept his new position as bitch.

He was looking forward to it. Showing Spike what he’d seen in him during that drunken conversation. Spike was a predator, wild. It spoke to the wolf inside him, but the man was hardly the alpha he was convinced he was. All that posturing, only to whine and complain about a bitch who wanted to live a fairytale life, eyes even tearing up a few times from frustration.

He just needed to be patient. Wait for Spike to fully heal. Then he could show the wolf how perfect of a bitch he really could be.

“Hungry? Or do you think you’ll throw up again?” Hunter asked, combing his fingers through that beautiful hair. “What does my pup want to eat?”

No, he didn't want to eat! Spike growled with his heart in his throat and tears still in his eyes. His stomach was completely empty and starting to hurt from his hunger. But everything else hurt anyway. It even hurt to growl but he just couldn’t let this go on. Spike didn’t care that he was injured. He didn’t care! He was getting out of here—

Spike backhanded Hunter’s hand out of his hair. He grinded his teeth at the pain that shot through him, before he tried to roll off the damn bed. He would crawl if he had to…

He could feel a headache coming on, whimpering as he forced his body to move despite being completely exhausted and spent. All his energy going into his rapid recovery that just couldn’t keep up. His healing eating away at his strength… he couldn’t even roll off the bed. Even something so simple seemed so far away. Spike felt his eyes water, everything started swimming in his vision.

Stubborn. Hunter liked a bit of stubbornness, though his tolerance was far less than it had been in the years before. He snarled when Spike slapped his hand away, eyes glowing in warning— Then paused, watching in amusement as the bitch tried to move off the bed. 

“Not hungry?” He asked, voice flat for a moment before he grinned. “Barely able to move. Whimpering like some spoiled cub.”

Hunter sighed, growing tired of watching the bitch struggle. He grabbed Spike’s shoulder, shoving him back to lay flat on the bed, bringing his other hand down to slap the wolf soundly across the face. He caught hold of Spike’s jaw, forcing the bitch to look him in the eyes as he growled low in his throat.

“Petulant little lady, aren’t you?” Hunter asked, letting go of Spike’s shoulder to rest his hand on the man’s heaving chest. “Prefer to go hungry rather than accept kindness when it’s offered to you? I’m not even demanding you pay for your meal with your mouth.”

His hand rubbed over Spike’s chest, stroking over the fullness of the man’s tits, squeezing one appreciatively. He really wanted to fuck him again, but that wasn’t possible. He needed Spike healthy, whole. Still rumbling a warning in his throat, he leaned over the bitch, baring his teeth.

“Or is that your plan?” Hunter asked, voice low, almost sweet. “So dedicated to the Way, you can’t let yourself eat without sucking me off first? You’re such a slut for my cock, aren’t you? All those times you came on it, shaking around my knot, squeezing around it, milking me for every bit of come.”

Spike’s heart sank at the snarl, his own eyes glowing in response to the challenge from the grinning man above him. His heart just kept sinking until it was so deep down, his limbs felt numb. It was right about then when the man grabbed him by the injured shoulder. He growled showing teeth as he was shoved down flat on the bed. The slap that followed felt like it had the strength to dislocate his jaw. He was stunned, his head spinning, his ears deaf for a moment. He was brought back to his senses as he was grabbed by the aching jaw, his face held in an iron grip, forcing him to look straight at Hunter.

The color drained out of his face. Did this bastard just call him ‘little lady’ — Spike didn’t have the time to be shocked and outraged as his air was forced out. Hunter pressed his hand down on his chest. Spike felt his body start sweating as the man leaned almost completely against him. The question buried itself like a tick. 

Pay with his mouth?.. .

The man didn't move away but instead his palm rubbed his chests, squeezing and stroking his tits as if playing with women's beasts. Nobody had even touched him like this. Nobody would have ever dared. Spike was furious. His anger was almost blinding— but not enough to let him throw away his life. When Hunter leaned down, baring his teeth, Spike’s body trembled. He couldn’t breathe, trying to contain his whimper at the helplessness he felt as he was pinned down. He couldn’t even roll off the bed - he had no chance in winning a fight right now…

" Don’t touch me... " Spike tried to growl but he said it with almost no air and a broken voice. He was too frightened, too out of breath, his vocal cords too damaged.. He had meant it as a demand or a threat but it had come out sounding like a desperate plea. Spike was terrified to hear his voice like that.

He stared in horrified disbelief as Hunter continued to talk. His belief in the Way being turned against him? Being called a slut for cock?... He had been fucked savagely, coming on a cock, from his ass— Spike couldn't accept that as his reality. Tears dropped silently from his unblinking eyes. He was short of breath, feeling like he might really throw up. His eyes refused to focus, his head hurt. His body was sweating, his heart was pounding, he felt sick...

Hunter couldn’t decide if Spike was simply stubborn, stupid, or if he wasn’t thinking straight. His kindness had been refused once already, and the man had found himself nearly fucked to death. He was still angry at himself for losing control like that, for viciously assaulting the bitch after claiming him. A bitch needed discipline, but not wanton violence. Nothing could be learned if Spike died from the lesson.

“First thing you’re going to learn:” Hunter murmured, “You are mine to touch as I please. To caress. To fuck. Try pleasing me and I can make it pleasant.”

He eased off of Spike’s chest, no longer shoving his bitch down into the mattress. He continued stroking Spike’s chest, admittedly enamored with the wolf’s impressive muscles. He liked the soft give beneath his hand. Even angry, the bitch was responsive, nipples hardening as he rubbed his thumb over one. 

“You will eat.” Hunter rumbled. “Heal. Regain your strength.” He cocked his head. “You look as if you’re about to pass out. While that would make it easier to do with your body as I like, it takes away the fun if you can’t respond.” 

Spike was trying to breathe, slow and deep to calm himself. His body had gone through a lot but it had rarely reached the point when it would start failing him. Even if this feeling, that he was going to pass out, wasn't caused by the sharp increase in his blood pressure, then it could have been because of exhaustion, dehydration, blood-loss... It could have been caused by so many other things. He was hungry. His stomach ached.

He knew the rules of the Way. That there had been a battle, a fight, and he had lost. He had been bitten, marked, claimed, fucked, knotted, bred— it couldn’t be real.

Spike’s shaky eyes lifted, barely able to focus, on Hunter's face as the man spoke. It was a face covered in a thick black beard, reaching the middle of his neck. Two blue eyes set under dark heavy eyebrows. Age could be seen on the skin. Older than Spike. Probably not by much. The hair was dark as well, long but unkempt. The man didn't seem to care for it as it was tied in a messy knot on the back of his head. 

Hunter spoke softly but what he said made Spike’s blood freeze in his veins. His ? Spike did not belong to himself but to Hunter ?... That couldn’t be. Spike choked. It was difficult to breathe— A bitch . Spike was not a bitch!

Tears rolled down his cheekbones, face pale. This couldn't be his reality...

Clearly the bitch was exhausted. It was hardly surprising, as injured as Spike was,  needing rest, food, something to drink. The fact that Spike still had fight in him impressed Hunter, making his smile grow warmer. He had made the right decision, even if the bitch was being difficult. With such a massive change, from alpha of a powerful pack, to a lone wolf’s bitch, he knew the wolf would need time to adjust. Time to accept his new role.

His own stomach rumbling softly, Hunter rose from the bed, letting his hand slide away from Spike’s jaw. 

“Try to resist the urge to roll off the bed while I fix us something,” he sighed, leaving the bitch to lay on the mattress. “I’ll bring you something to drink first. Get some ointment for your wounds until they’re healed properly.”

He returned shortly, his hair starting to fall loose from the messy bun he’d tied it into. Sucking down his own water, he set down a few items on the bedside table: cotton balls, antiseptic, and antibiotic ointment. He tugged another bottle of water out from under his armpit, offering it to Spike.

“Can you manage, or do you need help drinking?” Hunter asked.

When Hunter released his hold on Spike’s jaw, his crying eased, as if by command. His face - the twisted expression of clenched teeth - relaxed slowly as strength drained out of him visibly. He didn't even have the energy to cry anymore. Didn't have the will to deal with the pain, or had the mind to process any of it.

Spike’s breathing was heavy but steady. Labored. He looked with half lidded eyes toward the man who was speaking. Hunter was imposingly huge. Spike wouldn't have found him as intimidating before when he still had his confidence in his own strength. But now…

Even if Spike was the same height and basic frame, down to the wideness of his shoulders, Hunter was bigger. His height was not that much above Spike’s, but Spike's body was a defined set of muscles – beautiful in shape and form with a distinct lack of fat. Hunter, however, was built like a boulder – heavy, muscular and thick all-around. Spike had never thought of himself as slim but that's how he felt next to Hunter. He had been horrified when the man had wrapped his hands around his waist and the tips of his fingers had almost touched. 

Spike couldn't gain more weight even if he wanted to. As all werewolves had their strengths, Spike’s strength was in his extremely fast and efficient regeneration. He could heal faster and better than anyone else, but that came with its own disadvantages. To power this ability, his body burnt through fat incredibly fast. His metabolism was high. When injured, the rate in which his body used up its resources was horrifying. It would burn through everything it could to heal, only leaving the minimal needed to keep his heart pumping, leaving him bedridden. Exhausted. If not provided with abundance of nutrition Spike would fall into a coma or die. He had been close to death due to his rapid regeneration nearly as many times as he had been due to injury.  It was fortunate that only his pack was aware of this because he often used his fast healing as an intimidation to others.

So Spike couldn’t afford not to eat if he was offered food. Even from an enemy. He didn’t have the time or option to think about poison or drugs in what he was given. If he didn’t eat then he might as well already be dead. Spike almost found it funny. This bastard would help him heal and then face the consequences of everything he’d done. 

Did Hunter really think that this could go the way he wanted it? That Spike would become his bitch ? The very thought of it drove Spike into rage. 

Spike would use whatever he could to heal and regain his strength. This joke would come to an end. This fucking farce would be over. If Hunter dared to try to claim Spike as a bitch, then he would get what he deserved.

Spike gritted his teeth and took the bottle offered to him.

+

No matter what Hunter did, Spike couldn’t feel at ease around him. Even if the man brought stuffed pillows behind his back or pulled blankets over him. Spike was on edge even as he would place food on a small tray with before him. Spike could only relax and eat after Hunter would leave. He would eat everything and then he would fall asleep.

Throughout various times in the day he would eat and then he would sleep. He awoke at one point to see himself hooked to an IV bag before he fell asleep again. During that time Hunter was in and out of the house. Spike couldn’t tell where he went or for how long, he only knew that he was left alone. However, he had no chance of escape regardless. With his broken pelvis Spike could barely move, let alive get up from the bed and walk out.

In only a day his surface wounds closed up, though they weren’t healed completely. The deepest ones needed more time. It was nothing out of the ordinary - he had suffered through injuries almost daily during the war. What wasn’t normal however were the abdominal pains he was feeling. He knew well that it wasn’t from the broken bones because he could distinguish between one pain and another. 

It was followed by a strong stomach ache and a fever. It was then that he learned that this was most likely caused by the semen left in his guts. He had a pretty rough night which left him even more exhausted. 

Then another day passed and all of his wounds seemed healed or close to it. The bite on his shoulder and back of the neck had been the deepest. They had already closed up nicely but the scars still looked pink and fresh.

Even with Spike around, life resumed for Hunter relatively normally. He tended the chickens, worked, would head out to collect information on his bounties, and eventually bring them in, collecting his fee. He could have afforded an upgrade in his house, but the simple cabin in the wood, with its two stories and basement served him well, even with a second person around. The only difference was how he needed to check in on his bitch, make sure Spike’s forehead and body were wiped down, that the bitch was fed and hydrated.

The amount of food the bitch ate was staggering. He didn’t know where it was all going, as Spike would shovel whatever food was offered into his mouth, then fall asleep again, only to wake up hungry. At one point, the bitch seemed a little listless, confused, which prompted Hunter to hook him up to an IV, full of nutrients— easy enough to purchase in his line of work. Sure enough, the bitch perked up enough to eat more, Spike’s color better. Hunter found himself researching nutritious foods and drinks, picking up several high protein drinks and powders, which he served alongside the food.

Spike’s healing seemed connected to the amount of food and rest. Hunter had never seen anything like it, which made him feel a little less guilt over all the wounds he’d given Spike during their first time having sex. The bites and scratches were healed over, looking weeks old rather than a few days. He was glad he had so many chickens, providing plenty of eggs, as he’d never kept much food in the house since he’d returned after the war.

Coming in from collecting yet more eggs, Hunter listened for a moment, scenting the air. The smell of fresh wounds had faded entirely, replaced instead with the scent of the citrus and orange blossom shampoo. A slight pang from a memory made his chest feel tight; he really needed to get Spike his own shampoos and soap. He slipped off his boots before putting away the eggs, then went in to check on Spike. He pushed open the door, having taken to partially closing it to give his bitch the illusion of privacy, smiling faintly.

“You’re looking better,” Hunter remarked, walking into the room. “How’s the stomach?” He added with a grin, as he already knew, considering the cub had insisted on keeping his seed inside. No matter how cute that was, Hunter knew that it would make his beauty unwell. Still he wanted Spike to experience it himself. He knew no matter how romantic it seemed, he would choose to clean himself out next time, and rethink being so damn stubborn.

Spike had waited patiently for his strength to return and for his injuries to heal. He could do nothing about his broken bones but knowing that he would not collapse so easily was at the very least reassuring if it came to a fight. 

Spike couldn't believe that this bastard was actually taking care of him. It couldn't be because he really thought he could have Spike as a bitch. This wasn't how things worked. Even if the Way dictated this to be the Law of Claim, it just didn't work like that. Not when the opponent had a pack that would watch his back, or a reputation. Not that Spike even needed backup to defeat the bastard but if push came to shove his brothers wouldn't abandon him. 

What Spike couldn’t understand was the women’s belongings. They were spread in the bathroom and this room as well. Did that whoreson really have a woman? Where was she—

Spike’s head turned at the sound of the door. It was Hunter. 

How long was this routine going to last? His stomach tied into a knot at the question. He really wanted to punch that bastard right now— but he still couldn't get up on his feet. Couldn't even sit up. His wounds had healed but not his bones. He could only glare, gaze burning with hostility.

"It's fine ." Spike growled through his teeth, furious but deep down ashamed and embarrassed. That anger and humiliation turned the color on his cheeks to pink.

The blush slowly blooming on Spike’s cheeks pulled Hunter’s mouth into an amused smirk. The bitch was surprisingly adorable under all that rage and bluster. Cheeks turning pink just from remembering what they had done.

“I did tell you to clean yourself out.” Hunter rumbled. “There was a good reason for doing it.”

He looked over Spike’s body as well as he could, moving closer. The wolf was healing impressively fast. Strength returning. He doubted it would be long before the broken bones were fused back together, his bitch back to his usual strength. Warmth rose to his own cheeks, the promise of a good fight, another chance to thoroughly claim Spike, approaching faster than he’d thought.

“You’re nearly entirely healed,” he said after a moment, sitting on the bed beside Spike, reaching down to lightly run his thumb over the fresh scars on Spike’s chest. “Turn your head. I want to check the bites.”

Spike couldn't help the quickened pace of his heart when the man came closer. That smirk on his face— What was the bastard grinning at?

Spike knew that he shouldn't let himself get provoked. Not until he was healed. Right now he wasn't. His pelvis wasn't even close to being healed yet.

But he couldn't help himself. Everything that Hunter did infuriated him. It was his audacity to act so familiar with him, to assume there he was an authority above Spike. There was nobody above Spike. He had taken care of that when he led the rebellion against Volden - the only one who had stood above all the alphas from The Hunt.

Spike’s muscles tensed as the weight on the bed shifted when Hunter sat down. The mattress tilted, forcing Spike's body closer to the other wolf. He growled like a frightened animal ready to attack as the man reached for him. Under the touch of fingers he could feel his own heart pounding. No. There was no way to fake compliance. Laying completely vulnerable under the mercy of a lunatic who was strong enough to rival him. There were only two options -  submit, or establish dominance. Spike was in no condition to prove his dominance but he refused to submit.

Hunter growled low in his throat, looking into Spike’s eyes. There was a challenge there, but beneath it— Hunter knew the smell of fear. He’d smelled it often, tasted it. Many had broken beneath his jaws, that smell the last before the sweet spill of blood, the limp feeling of just more meat between his teeth.

He had grown still and taut while staring down at Spike. His canines had grown sharp at the memory. No. He didn’t want to kill this wolf. He’d felt a minor stab at panic when he’d first seen Spike go entirely still on the floor of the bathroom, a feeling he still didn’t understand. He couldn’t destroy the chance he had to end the monotonous loneliness he’d endured for so long, but he didn’t have to put up with Spike’s unwillingness to submit, either.

Snarling a warning, he pounced, wrestling down Spike’s arms as the wolf growled and reacted. His own muscles rippled and bunched; strength he’d built over years of living rough, living like the beast he had needed to survive. He didn’t want to hurt Spike’s pelvis further, looming over the wolf beneath him, holding Spike’s arms down above the wolf’s head. He growled and barked, snapping his jaws near Spike’s face, eyes glowing a bright blue.

Still growling low in his throat, he looked at the scars over Spike’s neck and shoulder. Healed, fresh and pink scar tissues. His claim marks. A surge of lust at seeing them severed through his entire body, nostrils flaring as he breathed in the wolf’s scent beneath the citrus tang of shampoo and fear. Rumbling more in appreciation, he lowered his head to lick over the marks, nearly purring as he felt the skin’s soft texture. He sucked, unable to stop himself.

“Much better. Perfect marking.” Hunter mumbled into Spike’s skin, shifting the bitch’s wrists to one large hand, lowering his other to rub over Spike’s chest. “And elsewhere?” He asked, moving his hand down the cub’s stomach, fingers rubbing, before cupping the bitch’s cock and balls. “Open your legs.”

Spike pulse quickened at the still, silent threat or fangs and killing intent. He could feel his heart in his throat as Hunter snarled, pouncing. The scent of death and of danger choked Spike. His eyes glowed as his claws extended. He snarled back but didn’t have time to swing. His arms were wrestled down with strength that could break his bones. Spike breathed heavy between his teeth, saliva spraying in his lips as he exhaled harshly.

Spike went still, teeth still bare, as he was pinned down, his arms pulled above his head. He whimpered as the wolf snapped his jaws near his face, eyes pointing down and away in submission. He barely stopped himself from trembling, the skin on his arms and chest covered in goosebumps. Spike felt the tug of his hair as his neck was exposed, a shiver running down his spine as he was forced to completely submit, showing throat. As Hunter leaned completely over him Spike panicked, afraid of fangs sinking into his neck. But then he felt the wet heat over his tender flesh, prompting a whiny grunt out of him, too startled to stifle it down.

When he released his neck, Hunter's attention moved to Spike’s chest. Spike’s vision blurred, as he tried to pry his hands out of the wolf’s grip, feeling them start to prickle with numbness. 

"Get off." Spike exhaled hard and shaky. He planned to say it with authority but instead it was laced with fear. He showed his teeth as the man squeezed his chest. The hand moved down his stomach and Spike felt a heavy dread fill him as it reached his cock. His vision turned red. “I will fucking kill you!” Spike snarled. No man had ever dared tell him to ‘open his legs’ like a common whore.

Sighing heavily, as all his bitch seemed to know how to say was to ‘get off’, Hunter let go of Spike’s hands to grab him firmly by the hair, pulling the bitch’s head backwards, leaning in until their faces were nearly touching. He bared his teeth as well, snarling in a way that was pure wolf, fingers twisting hard enough in the bitch’s hair that strands were yanked free.

“Say that again,” Hunter growled, his voice barely human as he forced the cub backwards onto the bed, the hand on Spike’s testicles tightening in warning. “You’re hardly in any state to kill anyone, brat.”

Keeping his hand on Spike’s balls, Hunter pushed himself up and back. He was careful as he lifted beneath one of Spike’s knees, parting the man’s legs so he could see the cub’s ass. He recalled how it had looked the last time he saw it, raw and smeared with blood and cum, torn and ruined. The flesh now looked soft and pink, the pucker tight and flawless.

Spike was pulled hard by his hair, driving him backwards as he didn't have any strength in his waist. Hunter's face was so close to his, Spike could feel his breath hit his skin. Spike growled and whimpered as the man twisted and pulled his hair so hard he felt strands ripping out. His hands were free as Hunter had him by the hair and by his cock, but the only thing Spike could do was desperately try to free his hair out of that grip. The pain in his scalp enough to have his eyes water. 

When Hunter growled at him, Spike tried to glare back. His foolish bravery disappeared the second Hunter squeezed his balls. His breaths were shallow and quick. Spike couldn’t believe he had been completely dominated, forced to submit to another for the first time in his life.

Spike didn't have the strength in his waist to lift himself up. He was stuck on his back, while the man above him spread his legs apart. Spike tried to drive them back together but they felt stuck open. 

He was shaking with shame, tears barely contained in his eyes. Not only had he shown throat, he also had his legs spread for another man…

“You truly have an impressive healing ability,” he breathed out, voice rough, giving way to lust. 

Growling a low, pleased rumble, he leaned down, letting go of Spike’s balls to push up the bitch’s other leg, trying to stay mindful of the cub’s broken pelvis— there was no way it was fully healed. He nudged his nose under Spike’s testicles, tongue sliding forward to lick over the bitch’s hole, groaning as he felt the soft, whorl of flesh give against his tongue. 

It felt as fresh and new as any virgin’s; Spike might as well have never been touched by him. Was this more of Spike’s impressive healing? Erasing any sign of their fucking? It was an interesting, exciting thought, though it came with its own difficulties. If Spike was always so tight, fucking him would always be a strain. He couldn’t have the bitch breaking after each time he was inside him. Thankfully, every problem had a solution.

“Am I the first to do this?” Hunter asked, his voice muffled as he moved his tongue against Spike’s entrance again.

He licked deeply, feeling the skin part around his tongue, flinch and twitch around him. He rumbled with pleasure, licking again, testing each part of Spike’s hole, finding healed, smooth skin.

Spike was filled with shame and anger, his face flushing red as he huffed a growl between clenched teeth. Hunter lifted both his legs and let go of his balls. His thighs were trembling, as he saw Hunter lean in, face between his legs. A choked up grunt escaped him as he felt the wet heat of a tongue lick a line from under his balls to his hole. He gave out a startled grunt as the tongue licked around before entering him, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. It felt hot… and wet… and it forced a tingle of some unknown sensation to run through to his groin.

Spike didn't like the feeling of his legs being held apart like they were - all of him on display. That part of him was not supposed to be looked at, let alone touched or licked or entered. 

This feeling of a tongue, wet and hot pressing against his hole— the question startled him. It made his trembling body fill up with rage.

“ Who would fucking dare ?” Spike snarled breathlessly. A choked up growl escaped him as the tongue pressed against his entrance again, licking all around, feeling his hole twitch and move, as Hunter pushed his balls out of the way. He exhaled desperately—helplessly. This was the first time in his life he couldn’t fight his way out of a situation. He could do nothing but take it.

A deep chuckle left Hunter’s throat, his breath puffing against the bitch’s tiny hole. He glanced up, hands holding Spike’s legs open, looking incredibly amused when he saw the blush all over that pretty face. His bitch, he really was inexperienced with so much. Hunter felt sorry for the cub.

“Not a single partner? Not even that bitch of yours?” Hunter rumbled, practically speaking into his bitch’s ass as he licked again, tongue pushing harder, drooling as he was able to slide it in. He sucked around the cub’s hole, as he pulled back, he rested Spike’s weakened legs over his shoulders. “All that fucking, having a bitch, and you were never curious? Never explored yourself?” 

Chuckling, thoroughly enjoying the man’s anger and embarrassment, he licked again, twirling his tongue around the tight pucker, groaning as he felt it flex open. He shoved his face forward as he slid his tongue back in again, his beard starting to get soaked with spit. Groaning again, he moved his tongue deeper and faster, running his hand up over the cub’s stomach, stroking over one pectoral. Moaning softly, he rubbed his thumb over Spike’s nipple, feeling it harden as he worked his tongue inside Spike. 

The skin was so soft and hot around his tongue. He could feel his dick growing hard as he shifted, better able to fuck the bitch with quick stabs and slurps from his tongue. Curling his tongue around, he slid his other hand up over Spike’s balls and cock, keeping them out of his way.

Spike looked down between his legs, at the head of the bastard who was practically speaking to his ass. Embarrassment, anger and scared confusion at the questions. Why would a man want this done to him? This humiliation… 

His trembling knees were pulled up, his legs placed on Hunter’s shoulders - his ass up. Easy access, and Spike could do nothing to move as his pelvis screamed in pain every time he tried. 

“What ahH— “ Spike was unable to ask what the fuck was Hunter talking about, as he cried out, throwing his head back into the mattress when the man started fucking him with his tongue. Hunter inserted his tongue again and again, twirled it around, making Spike’s hole flex and relax. Spike tried to roll or crawl away but that only made him cry in pain. 

It felt weird; it felt strange, hot and pressing… but also gentle and horrifyingly pleasant. His hands gripped at the sheets beneath him. He was getting hard… he could see his cock starting to stiffen. Spike panted in small whines, with tears in his eyes. 

This couldn’t be happening. There was no way he liked this… this— strange tingling pleasure. It moved back and forth from his ass toward his cock, as his legs trembled. He felt a hand on his stomach, over his flexing muscles—

He couldn’t understand what was happening…

“Careful...” Hunter laughed, kissing Spike’s hole as he rubbed the cub’s side. “Haven’t healed that yet.”

He crawled over Spike long enough to grab one of the pillows, moving back down to carefully lift Spike’s ass up onto it, giving it the support and height he needed to better get at the bitch’s ass. If only he hadn’t broken the cub’s pelvis, he could be fucking him right now. His own cock was fully hard, pressing between the bed and his stomach as he flopped back down. He rested Spike’s legs over his shoulders again as he pressed his mouth back over that needy little hole, testing how tight it was with the tip of his tongue before shoving back in again.

It was more for him than for his bitch. The deep satisfaction of giving pleasure to his man and watching Spike completely lose control was amusing. Even more amusing was that he was getting hard just from getting his ass eaten; Spike really was the perfect bitch. Made for coming from his ass, incredibly sensitive and responsive.

Hunter growled hungrily as he rocked his dick against the bed, pulling open Spike’s ass with his one hand as he slurped more aggressively, fucking the man with his tongue. He rubbed his thumb against the bitch’s perineum, massaging. The bitch’s hole was growing puffy against his tongue, fluttering and flexing open. With a soft groan, he pushed his thumb inside, pumping it slowly in and out beside his tongue, then traded it with one finger, pressing in and up, finding the bitch’s prostate. He was better able to lick around inside the bitch’s hole as he stretched Spike open, wanting the cub to focus on the feeling.

He’d missed this feeling: making another person feel good, rather than the last moments of horror they felt before he ended their life. Hunter felt warm throughout his entire body, rumbling a low, pleased growl as he rubbed his cock against the bed. With his head between Spike’s thighs, he felt something like peace, contentment.

Spike was breathing fast and heavy, his mind getting fuzzy with confusion. There was a pressing question and worry somewhere deep in him. This wasn’t— his eyes snapped open. Why was he allowing this to happen? How could he allow this—

His breath got stuck in his throat as Hunter placed a pillow under his waist, lifting his ass up. His heart raced with fright. 

He wasn’t allowing it. Spike couldn’t stop it. He had tried. There was no way to fight…

Hunter placed Spike’s legs over his shoulders again, keeping him spread and his ass lifted up. Spike tried to use his legs to push the wolf away but there was no strength in them without the support of his pelvis. Instead he only felt a sharp pain run up his back, over his spine as his pelvis shifted. At the same time Hunter pressed his mouth again to his ass, shoving his tongue in. Spike cursed, a filthy small word as the man moved slowly and tantalizingly. 

The stimulation, slow sweet and maddeningly persistent, wasn’t something Spike was familiar with and it drove him crazy. It wasn’t possible that he was feeling it from his ass… there was no way. But he felt his rim getting tugged and stretched and his cock throbbed with it, the muscles in his backside flexing as Hunter fucked him with his tongue.

“No!...” he gasped as the man rubbed his perineum, pressing open his hole with a finger as the tongue licked inside him. Spike squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth. He rasped in a low, rough grunt just before he felt a finger enter him. A choked noise escaped him as that finger found his prostate, his cock growing even harder, firmer.

This was completely wrong. Spike knew it was. His legs were up in the air, and his ass was being played with. It made him feel horrified that it really looked like he was this bastard's bitch…

A part of Hunter was tempted to listen, to stop, to leave his bitch hanging, to not finish. He wanted however to make Spike come from having his ass played with. Had Spike forgotten how many times he’d come around his knot? How the cub had shivered and whined, spasming and twitching around him? Could Spike really deny how good it felt now, with how hard he was getting, how much his ass was twitching and opening for him?

Hunter rotated his finger against the bitch’s prostate, his tongue stabbing deep and fast, the sounds of his mouth against Spike’s ass growing more and more obscene, as he parted the cub’s ass wider to allow him to fully bury his mouth. He groaned and growled his pleasure against Spike’s anus, hips rolling against the mattress, his cock leaking. 

Feeling the bitch shift, he glanced up, snarling as he saw Spike starting to stroke his cock. Growling a threat, he grabbed both of the bitch’s wrists, jerking them down to the bed and holding firm as he snarled. Shoving his face back into Spike’s ass, he redoubled his efforts, tongue sliding deep, stroking and teasing along the hot, soft inner flesh, nose rubbing against the bitch’s perineum occasionally as he lapped.

Spike whimpered as he felt the finger inside him prod and circle around. He tried to pull away from the intruding feeling but his pelvis refused to cooperate. But after some effort it was clear that he was stuck in this position. His broken pelvis made it impossible to shift his weight and push himself up.

Spike flinched as he felt something unpleasant— a prickle of beard between his cheeks. It was a harsh slap back into reality. He had a man between his legs, with his tongue and fingers in his ass. The scariest part of it was that it felt good… 

It was getting more difficult to breathe. His shoulders pressed into the mattress. He wanted to cry - this couldn’t be happening to him. His pack would laugh if they saw him now. There was no way he would come from this with his pride intact. It wasn’t hard to reach and take his cock in his hand - a familiar and heavy feeling in his palm. He wanted to squeeze in a way that would make him soft, stop this humiliation. But he saw his stomach flex as he stroked instead, his hand moving on its own… he could still feel that he was getting close, his cock already leaking… 

The man above him growled and Spike’s heart froze. At that moment his hands were jerked away from himself, getting a deprived hiss out of him as his wrist were pinned to the bed. He whined, feeling his cock twitch, against his own stomach.

When Hunter returned to his hole Spike was assaulted with a tongue that overwhelmed him completely, making him gasp and sob and moan. He couldn’t lift his waist, nor roll his hips or push him away. He couldn’t do anything but just take it. His cock was leaking precum but refused to reach orgasm. This wasn’t a pleasure he was familiar with— His body was starting to ache, he was starting to grow more desperate to go over the edge. Spike's eyes had gone misty with only the desire to come as he was breathing heavily, growling, with a gaping mouth.

He needed the bitch to succumb, to not assume he was allowed to touch himself. Spike’s body was for Hunter to enjoy, to manipulate into feeling what he wanted the bitch to feel. The sounds the man was making made his cock leap and pulse against the bed, the fabric growing more uncomfortable the more sensitive he became. 

Firmly pushing Spike’s hands against the mattress, he released the bitch’s wrists, reaching back up to slide two fingers into him, careful to avoid touching the still healing pelvis to rub up against Spike’s prostate again. The cub would come the way he wanted him to. Lifting his mouth from Spike’s ass, he kept an eye on him, shifting onto his knees, his cock bouncing with need as he pumped his fingers incessantly. The bitch’s cock was leaking, the head swollen and red. Smirking, he leaned forward, hovering over the cub, watching his face as he briefly ran his tongue up Spike’s cock, flicking up as he reached the sensitive skin beneath the cock head. His cock bumped against Spike’s inner thigh, smearing precum, as he moved higher, fingers pumping.

“Don’t fight it,” Hunter rumbled deep in his throat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Look at me. Ask me nicely for what you want. You want to come? Wish you were healed enough so my cock was in you instead? Or...” He reached down, his hand still wet with spit, holding Spike’s cock. “You want this? Want me to play with this?” He stroked once, the touch so light he knew it would just add to the horrible teasing. “Why do you need this? Your ass feels good. That’s all you need.”

His hands were released and he felt the feeling rush back into them, wrist cracking back into place as he tried to move them. Spike groaned – long, uncomfortable and unhappy, as two fingers stretched his hole, rubbing against his prostate. His legs were still pressed onto Hunter’s shoulders, trembling. His muscles flexing, toes curling. Spike panted, mouth open, as the man continued to pump inside him with his fingers.

His eyes were shut tight as his face was pressed to its side, flushed red with shame. It felt like torture, as drool was dripping out of his mouth between clenching teeth. Spike felt the man loom over him, his heart felt weak, as he gasped and flinched, the feeling of something hot, hard and sleek on his tight - painfully familiar.

A messy growl escaped him as the man told him not to fight. Telling him to look at him. Spike refused, shuting his eyes closed instead, squeezing them shut as he tried to shake his head for "no". He was too much of a mess already, his dick swollen and leaking. He jerked with fright at the thought of that thick cock entering him instead of the fingers. Spike gasped in startled surprise when Hunter grabbed his dick and simply held it. Spike could feel it pulsating in that hand. His eyes opened to look at the man in shock as he was stroked. Once. Spike choked and the sensation of it, not nearly enough to cum. He needed more. There was no way he would cum from his ass—

"I can’t…” he whimpered, thinking twice about reaching down. “My cock... I need ... " he insisted desperately. 

The desperation in Spike’s voice made Hunter’s cock jump. God, he wanted to be inside his bitch – to give it to him. His fingers squeezed under the cockhead, holding it, looking at how swollen and red it was, the precum glistening and running down freely. 

“You don’t need it,” Hunter said, voice firm. “That’s not asking. You want me to play with your dick? To suck it? Ask nicely.”

He moved his fingers steadily inside the man’s hole, carefully easing in a third, feeling how tight Spike was, but how readily he took more. His cock bobbed, oozing a thick string of fluid. He released Spike’s cock to stroke his own, one firm, squeezing pull, slick with his own precum. 

“Look how good you feel without it. Your body likes this, was made for this. Did you ever wonder why you struggled so hard with your bitch?” 

Feeling Spike loosen around his three fingers, he began fucking the cub with them again, keeping his attention on his prostate, breath coming harder as he felt Spike’s hole quiver and clench. He watched as more precum drooled down Spike’s cock, watched as the hard, thick flesh bounced.

“It was because, the entire time, you were actually a bitch. Needing a wolf strong enough to manage you. You want proof? Look.” He pointed with his chin, down to the forming knot in Spike’s cock, watching as more fluid dripped down the bitch’s cock. “This happened just from your ass. I put my tongue in you, and you got hard. You’re barely able to speak, just from my fingers inside you. Like a perfect bitch.”

Hunter walked backwards on his knees, groaning as he couldn’t resist that beautiful cock. He sucked the head into his mouth, tasting the salty, bitter precum continuously flowing from the tip. He worked his tongue over the slit, growling softly as he made himself stop, precum shiny on his lips as he grinned. He squeezed a fourth finger into the bitch’s slick hole, rubbing up against Spike’s prostate mercilessly.

“You’re going to come, just like this.” Hunter rumbled, half purr, half growl. “Just from your ass. Just from how incredibly good it feels to have someone inside you.”

Spike felt it clearly, maddeningly, how deprived he was of touch on his cock. His thighs started to tremble lightly, spreading them a little bit more without realizing. He huffed, his teeth bared as his body waited for the pleasure it was sure to get from his cock. But nothing was coming, only the persistent pressure of his erection and the wolf pulling at his hole. 

Hunter’s words got a low desperate whine out of Spike that turned into a gasp as the man pumped his fingers in his hole. Spike could feel himself spread, could feel his rim stretching as another finger was added in.

Spike looked between his legs, scared of having something in his ass, stretching him open. His breathing was shallow as he felt his hole contort, trying to squeeze the fingers inside him before relaxing around them. The sensation of it was so shameful that it brought tears to his eyes.

“No! It’s not true!” Spike denied in a snarl, as his cock throbbed and leaked. Bitter tears overflowed his eyes. It wasn’t true. He was not a bitch! He wasn’t going to come from having his ass fingered and eaten… A choked needy moan escaped him as Hunter started fucking him with his fingers, pressing on his prostate. Spike couldn’t breathe, feeling his hole trying to suck in those fingers, his hips trembling. With every shallow pump he felt his cock quiver and leak. Spike swallowed down hard, choking—

He looked down at himself again, clenching, seeing his forming knot. It wasn’t true . Spike denied everything. He wouldn’t believe it. Hunter simply enjoyed humiliating him…

Spike’s body trembled, as the man crawled further over him. His chest was heaving as he glared helplessly at the man, unable to do anything, not even break free from this position. Spike’s legs were prompted higher, making his breaths even more shallow and hot as he felt heat— Hunter’s mouth on his cock. His back arched as the fingers in him started pumping faster, prodding at his prostate and the tongue licked over the slit on his cock. Each jab, sending a jolt of pleasure and heat up his stomach. Pained rough moans escaped him as he tried to stifle them in. His cock twitched painfully. He couldn't take much more of this.

He couldn’t— He was already feeling the orgasm roll over him. His hole was twitching and flexing in sync with the fingers pumping. Spike cried, a filthy raspy cry that he regretted making at the very same second as the accumulating pleasure pushed him over the edge, making him cum hard. He felt the pleasure still ripple through him, feeling his hole spasm around the fingers in him.

Hunter moaned as he felt how tightly the bitch’s ass was squeezing, watching Spike’s face as the orgasm came closer and closer, until, finally, the bitch completely fell apart on his fingers. Spike’s ass rhythmically squeezed, keeping time with his thrusts inside, the power in each pulse feeling as if Spike’s ass was trying to slice off his fingers. If the bitch didn’t have a broken pelvis, he was sure Spike would have been thrusting against his hand— despite all his protests, he had absolutely no self control when it came to his prostate being stimulated.

Humming with satisfaction, Hunter carefully slipped down off the bed, just enough to reach underneath, feeling around. He found the plastic of a shopping bag, pulling it out as he climbed back up. He watched as Spike’s pink hole, stretched and slick from spit, kept flexing around his hand. Rubbing his thumb up against Spike’s perineum, he pulled out the few items he’d thought to buy once he’d seen how quickly the bitch healed. 

He set down a bottle of lubricant next to Spike’s ass, then tugged out a box containing a thick, long butt plug. At its thickest part, the plug was as wide around as his cock had been in his half wolf form, however so slightly less than his knot at its most engorged. He sighed as he had to slip his fingers free from Spike’s slick heat to get the toy open and slicked up. He didn’t want Spike’s pelvis snapping again, and this seemed the best option to ensure the bitch’s bones healed wide enough to take him in easily.

“Breathe in,” Hunter murmured as he rubbed lube slick fingers over Spike’s hole. “And relax.”

He pressed the slender head of the toy against his bitch’s stretched hole, watching as the tender flesh opened up, the first part of the toy easily sliding in. The difficulty came as the bitch’s hole was made to further stretch open as he eased more of the plug in. He pressed a hand to Spike’s chest as he pushed deeper, knowing the further it went that Spike’s broken pelvis would be forced to open to accommodate the size. Pain now was a small price to pay to keep the bitch from being broken open each time they fucked.

“Don’t fight it,” Hunter growled, easing the toy in deeper, watching as that beautiful hole was forced to open wider.

Spike was breathing hard and fast as the orgasm slowly started to fade, feeling the twitching of his hole around the fingers still moving inside him. He could feel the sweat on his body, every small gust of air as he panted and the man above him moved, making his skin prickle, his nipples hard.

His mind was still fuzzy with horrifying pleasure when Hunter pulled back. The heat over Spike eased as the man reached for something on the floor. He could see his bobbing cock, still hard even after ejaculating, the knot inflated despite not locking into anything. He breathed out hard through his mouth, eyes stinging from the sweat on his forehead. 

Spike would have been too exhausted to look if he wasn’t so horrified by what had just happened, or from what items Hunter needed so badly right now. He couldn’t see well even when he twisted his neck. A bottle, a box— Spike gasped as Hunter pulled his fingers out of his ass, suddenly relief on his stretched hole. It had felt like the man had simply wanted to pull, pry open wider just for the sake of it…

He couldn’t see but he could feel cold slickness over his hole, rubbing, making him flinch. What was—

Suddenly something was pressed into him, his stretched pulsing hole giving easy entry. He gasped as it kept sliding in, cold, slick and thick, growing thicker… Spike grasped at the sheets, claws ripping fabric as his body trembled. He felt his hole stretch so wide there was no way it wouldn’t rip. He sobbed helplessly, stuck in his position on the bed. His heart was pounding fast and heavy. Spike could feel it even more clearly as Hunter pressed a palm over his chest. He couldn’t even curse, he couldn’t yell or scream or rage. All that he was starting to feel was pain pulsing through him. The thick length was pushed into him, pressing into his pelvis. Spike was openly sobbing, tears dripping down his cheeks.

“ Hurts… It hurts …”  he whimpered weakly, his voice breaking as he cried.

Hunter eased the toy back a little, enough to give Spike some slight relief as he slicked the toy with more lubricant. His own heart was pounding, sweat breaking out over his skin. He felt a wave of confusion as he realized he didn’t want to see the wolf beneath him in more pain. It was a little shocking, that he was already this concerned, as he hadn’t felt concern or care for anyone since the war. 

He shifted on the bed as he propped Spike’s legs up on his arms, pressing a kiss to the wolf’s knee. “I know, I know baby,” he murmured. “It’ll keep it from hurting later. Gotta open you up.”

Hunter gave himself a mental shake, gripping the base of the toy firmly as he pushed it in again. He gently massaged the thinning flesh of Spike’s anus, trying to make the skin relax. Pressing the heel of his palm against the flared base of the plug, he kept up a slow, even pressure, shoving the toy gradually deeper. 

This was for the best, he reminded himself. He didn’t want the bitch’s pelvis to snap again in the middle of fucking. He shivered as he felt the bones shift as the widest part of the toy forced Spike’s pelvis apart. He kept pushing it deeper, breathing hard as the widest part was finally sunk firmly in Spike’s ass, watching the abused ring of the bitch’s anus clamp tightly around the slender neck. With a final push, the base was flush against Spike’s ass.

Looking up, he let out a huff. He crawled up over his bitch, lightly stroking Spike’s face.

“There. It’s done.” Hunter breathed out, kissing Spike’s damp cheeks. “Breathe, baby. It’s done.”

Spike felt like he was suffocating, barely taking shaky breaths as the pressure eased for a moment. He was shaking, trembling. The kiss on his knee made him cry harder as the pressure was back, pushing into him. There was no more space, he couldn’t take it— it felt like Hunter was trying to carve him open, push all his insides outside through his mouth. 

As the pressure steadily kept growing, the stretch on his hole impossible… he finally felt it. His bones shifting. The slight crack of something barely mended, breaking. He wailed, choking on his tears as he felt the object pushed into him set in place, his hole suddenly closing, locking it inside. His heart was threatening to jump out of his mouth.

“ Take it out… ” he pleaded desperately as he sobbed. “ Please… ” he begged, sobbing with barely any voice left as Hunter kissed his cheeks. 

For a moment, Hunter almost did move to take it out, his fingers already on the flared base before he stopped himself. It was better this way. If Spike’s pelvis broke each time he knotted him— no, the plug had to stay, taken out only when absolutely necessary.

“I can’t, precious,” he murmured, kissing Spike’s face again and again as the wolf sobbed weakly. “You need to heal first. I’m not hurting you because I want to.”

He stroked Spike’s hair gently, sinking down onto the bed beside his sobbing bitch. He slid a arm beneath Spike’s shoulders, cuddling close, careful not to jostle the bitch’s freshly broken pelvis. The pain now would save Spike more and worse damage later. Sighing softly, he kissed Spike’s cheek again, picking up one of Spike’s hands to hold it.

“You’ll heal. Just bear with it until then.”

“Why…” Spike couldn’t understand as he sobbed. Why did this thing had to be in him? How would he heal with it inside? “Please…” he begged, no longer with a voice. His damaged vocal cords still had not entirely healed either.

Spike had never begged for anything in his life… and now Hunter was making him beg for the second time. But it didn’t matter because the wolf refused him… again.

He couldn’t move, Spike felt like he was impaled, the weapon still stuck inside him. If he barely breathed and if he was completely still— the pain stopped for a moment. And for some reason the kisses on his cheeks felt nice, distracting and soft, as his eyes burned. His hand had gone limp, fingers squeezing with barely any strength as Hunter took his palm in his. Spike felt tired and in pain, drained from the struggle and fight and then his orgasm. Now this…

+

Time passed slowly as Hunter waited for Spike to recover. The bitch wasn’t able to do more than lay flat in the bed, his body supported by pillows to keep him as still as possible. Hunter kept Spike on fluids, changing the IV bags as frequently as his bitch needed, bringing him drinks, and washing his bitch gently. It had been a long time since he’d last looked after someone so thoroughly, his mind recalling long nights and changing diapers.

He cut back on the number of bounties he brought in so he could spend more time with Spike, nursing him through this difficult healing process. The bitch didn’t respond much, in too much pain for the first few days, begging to have the plug removed, before lapsing back into unconsciousness. Hunter hadn’t spent so long at home since he’d first started hunting people for bounties. The chickens were getting fat and lazy as he spent time taking care of them, almost as much time as he spent making sure Spike had everything he needed.

With Spike slowly gaining a little more mobility, able to shift without immediately going rigid from pain, Hunter had left for a short trip to buy a basin and new shampoo for the bitch. As much as he liked the scent of citrus and orange blossoms, the smell brought with it old pain he didn’t want to remember. Since coming back to the cabin, and attempting to continue on with a relatively normal life, he hadn’t bothered to throw anything away. 

He needed to move on. Maybe with Spike he would be able to finally do that. 

Home again, groceries and the wash basin purchased, he left everything in the kitchen before going in to check on Spike. He stuck his head into the room, then walked in.

“Are you awake?” He asked, voice low, a little rough from disuse.

Days passed in a blur. Spike couldn’t tell how much time it had passed any time he woke up. At some point the splitting pain had been replaced with a dull ache, sometimes he couldn’t feel pain at all but it came back when he tried to move. At all times, however, he felt suffocatingly stuffed. It was a constant reminder of shame to feel his ass full, holding something huge inside. He would cry not only because it hurt but also because whatever Hunter was doing, having him heal around this object – meant that he was changing, rearranging his body. Forcing his bones to heal in a different shape. 

Spike had tried to reach. Pushing his cock aside, reaching as far back as he could without folding his body. He could only try it when Hunter was not around because otherwise the man pulled his arms away. 

Spike could only touch the base of something soft but firm, only reach the edge of whatever was stuck in his ass. He couldn’t grip it properly. He tried to pull, to take it out. But the base just bent, his ass holding the object inside. He sobbed as he tried again and again, everytime finding it was impossible to pull it out. He grew desperate and exhausted quickly, forcing him into restless sleep. 

At some point he gave up on trying to take it out. It hurt less if he just let it be.

He was woken up from a restless sleep by the sound of footsteps and a voice calling to him. He grunted in response, his mind still hazy. Spike was so sick of being injured. He had never been stuck in bed for so long, more than a week only on his back and he was still not healed… A panic was stuck in the back of his mind. Would he even be able to heal properly? Would he be able to walk?

Hunter took the grunt as a sign the bitch was mostly aware. It was better than some days when Spike was flushed with pain, unable to move, not even willing to do more than glare at him with disgust. He didn’t feel the need to explain further why Spike needed to suffer through the plugging; it would have far reaching benefits, and the bitch would be thankful later. He would have offered pain management, but the kind of relief Spike needed required connections to people Hunter had hunted down, rather than made semi friendly relationships with.

“Seeing as you’re aware,” he said, clearing his throat as he came into the room, “I thought we could exercise you some. Keep your limbs loose.”

He casually crossed the room to check Spike’s IV bag, clicking his tongue. He took a moment to change the fluids, always amazed at how quickly Spike absorbed everything. The money he’d saved, without any real idea of what to do with it, was coming in handy. The bag changed, he looked down at Spike before sitting on the bed beside him.

“How’s your pain?” Hunter rumbled. 

He breathed out slowly, reaching down to smooth hair from Spike’s face. Not waiting for an answer, he shifted, moving down to the bitch’s legs. Gently, he parted them, then lifted one up. Placing his hand on the base of Spike’s foot, he looked towards the wolf’s face.

“Push against my hand as hard as you can. If it hurts too badly, push just as much as you can before the pain is unbearable. All right?”

Awareness was quickly returning back to Spike as he could see and hear Hunter entering the room. Somehow Spike had managed to convince himself to look at the man as nothing more than a nurse right now. It was the only way for him to get through the days without the consuming rage and shame, being treated as a bitch and being unable to do anything about it.

It was easy to focus on only being taken care of. Fed, washed, provided with everything he needed to heal as quickly as possible. Still, even with all that, he was barely well enough to shift and move on the bed, bones not strong enough to support his weight.

If there was something Spike had learnt it was to not provoke Hunter needlessly. Not when he couldn't protect himself. And definitely not when the bastard was in a bad mood already.

A temporary coexistence for the sake of his recovery. Spike was not stupid. He knew that he was no match for Hunter while he was injured. So he needed to comply. Temporary.

Spike needed to tell himself that. Again and again as Hunter came close, leaning over him, extending a hand toward his face, stroking hair out of his face... Spike's heart was beating fast. He knew he shouldn't attack but that didn't make it any easier to stop himself especially when his hair was being touched. It was good that Hunter didn't wait for his response, because Spike was not confident in his self control.

The man went to part his legs and Spike stifled a growl. He was always left naked under the covers as it made it easier to be tended to. Spike usually didn't have any reservations about being naked as he had lived most of his life naked among other wolves in the woods. But he couldn't close his eyes to the things this wolf had done to him, even if only temporary. He could see the lust in Hunter's eyes sometimes as he looked at Spike's body. He could smell it on him sometimes, dizzyingly strong. It was at those times when fear gripped his heart. When he couldn't help him fight and resist even if the man did not make a move to something further than medical care.

Right now Spike couldn't detect lust from the wolf above him as he lifted his leg, told him to push. Still, Spike felt angry to be at the mercy of another, having to comply until he had healed. Healed in a strange way that rearranged him inside..

He pushed with all his might, feeling resistance from the hand holding his leg, but he was not strong enough to push his leg out of that grip. A sharp pain shot through him and the strength in his legs left him. He was grunting and panting as he fought to prove himself that his legs could still be used. That he would be left crippled after all this.

"Why did you do all this?..." Spike asked, almost casually, after he had tired himself out, needing a break before he could continue. 

Hunter held his hand firm, feeling the weakened strength in Spike’s leg, but the bitch was pushing: that was encouraging. He didn’t want to be responsible for a crippled bitch, though, being the source of the crippling, he knew he would do whatever needed to be done. As Spike’s leg gave out, he held it gently, rubbing the muscles in a slow massage.

He tilted his head slightly at the question, lips pursing for a moment as he lowered Spike’s leg back onto the pillows he’d pulled down from the upstairs bedroom. Running his fingers along Spike’s ankle, he felt for the pulse in the bitch’s foot, finding it satisfyingly strong, though beating harder.

“Do all of what?” Hunter asked, glancing up as he lifted Spike’s other leg, similarly placing his palm against the base of the wolf’s heel. “Look after you? Feed you? Tend to you? Push.”

He waited until Spike collected enough strength to push against his hand, nodding with approval. Both legs still had strength. Even if his bitch became tired from the test exercise, it relaxed his mind.

“Both your legs are fine. No nerve damage. We’ll keep exercising them.” He slid his hands up to Spike’s pelvis, gently holding it, then feeling his way along the healing bone, keeping his touch soft. “Are you asking why I brought you into my home? I thought that much was clear. I laid claim to you. Or, are you asking why I set your pelvis the way I have?”

Spike's muscles were trembling. He had not thought something so easy like simply moving his legs would tire him out so easily. However, it was a relief to know that his legs were functional. With sweat on his brow he pushed with all his strength, trying to move until it was unbearable. The constant pressure in his guts made him feel even weaker.

Spike growled barely audible as Hunter stroked his ankles. No matter how infuriating all those questions were, Spike was curious about all of them. Some he hadn't even considered but once they were out there, he realized he needed the answers—

All of it came down to Hunter's claim on him. It was a claim that Spike couldn't accept.

"All of it." Spike said through his teeth, fighting for his composure. "What have I ever done to you? Why me?..." something in his expression twisted. "Why... are you doing this to me? What do you want?" he insisted. It wasn’t clear if his voice was shaking because of anger or something else.

Hunter was checking the pulse points in Spike’s inner thighs when the man started softly growling, speaking with a mostly recovered voice through gritted teeth. He looked up through his brows, the long hair in his messy bun falling loose into his face. He shook his hair from his eyes, giving Spike a long look. Slowly he smiled, dark blue eyes half closing.

“Have you seen the bitches that roam every street corner in the surrounding city?” He asked. “Pretty. Delicate. Flirtatious. Submissive in all the most cloying ways.”

He shook his head, sliding his hands past Spike’s groin to hold the wolf’s waist. He fixed Spike with a steely look, his nose slightly wrinkled in distaste. He glanced down, seeing how his thumbs almost met when he held Spike’s narrow waist. He liked that, how slender Spike was in comparison with his bulk, yet he could feel the man’s strength under his palms.

“I have no interest in that. Beautiful little creatures looking to take my money in exchange for a night in my bed. I tried it. Couldn’t get hard despite the pretty lady’s best attempts. Tried a beautiful man after that— same result. You, however…”

Hunter looked at Spike’s body, fully exposed. Even bedridden, Spike was a wonderful sight. Strong. He felt no need to treat Spike like a dainty flower.

“Strong and capable. Powerful. Vicious and free.” He grinned. “You caught my attention the first time I saw you after tracking you down. You don’t hide from the wolf. You relish it. After we spoke, I felt an immediate attraction. Watching you take hits from those rich wolves in their oversized house…” 

Hunter could feel himself growing warm, arousal surging through his veins. He rumbled low in his chest, sliding his hands up Spike’s body, feeling the musculature over ribs, following the path they made up to the wolf’s heavy pectorals.

“I had to have you. Claim you for myself.” Hunter breathed in deeply, scenting Spike. “What a waste it would have been to let the Brookhavens kill you. They were out for your blood, and I needed to see if I was right. And here you are. Perfect. As for the pelvis…”

Hunter brushed his thumbs over Spike’s nipples. He enjoyed every part of this man. His bitch.

“When next we fuck, I don’t want your pelvis to snap and ruin the mood. Taking care of you now is an investment.”

Spike could feel goosebumps over his skin as Hunter’s chilly palms pressed into his inner thighs. He could feel that chill even more sharply as it rubbed into his soft vulnerable flesh. His eyes were focused on the man leaning over him. The ball in his stomach grew tighter as he saw the wolf smile. 

Spike had seen the whores around the city. None of them seemed appealing to him. Easy and boring, only out for money. That was not to his taste— 

The goosebumps over his legs crawled up along with Hunter’s hands sliding past his groin until they reached his waist, grabbing hold of him from both sides. A chill ran up his spine, passing like a wave through him, hair on his body rising - his chest, his arms, running up his neck… He growled, swallowing heavily. 

Spike didn’t like being manhandled, didn’t like being made to feel small. His muscles flexed. The anger from being belittled was laced deep down with a fear that Spike didn’t seem to have been able to shake. From that first night, when he had been nothing but a toy in Hunter’s hands - dragged and held down without being able to do anything… His breaths became more shallow and slow, holding his air in for longer as Hunter held him.

The hairs on his arms stayed up as the wolf spoke, for some strange reason mirroring exactly Spike’s opinions on the subject the city bitches, as if he was doing it on purpose to mess with him. Spike couldn’t let his guard down and this was another reason why. It wasn’t just the physical implication of something being done to him. It was also this— finding himself agreeing with what the bastard was saying more often than not. It made him feel disarmed in a way he had never felt before…

As Hunter looked over Spike’s body, gaze heavy over every part of him, Spike couldn’t help but tense and growl. That kind of look in a man, he recognized it, he understood it. It wasn’t supposed to be a look pointed toward him. He had broken men who had dared to look at him like that.

At the same time a surge of self-satisfaction washed over him as he was being praised, his abilities and strengths – seen and recognized, by a wolf that could be his equal if they knew each other under different circumstances. He knew he shouldn’t but it was beyond him. 

That self-satisfaction came muddled up with the tightening of the ball inside his stomach. ‘Attraction’? Desire to have and claim… Those were not things you would think about an equal.

“ Claim me ?” Spike snarled low, eyes burning with offense and outrage. “I’m— I was a fucking general in the war. You think you can have me ? You want a bitch? I’ll fucking give you mine. Hell, just go find a bastard like yourself.”

The hands slid up his body, rubbing over muscles, his ribs. Spike pressed his knees against the bulk of the man leaning over him. It was made even more difficult by the plug inside him. His heart was beating faster, breathing coming out short and quick as his nipples hardened. Adrenaline surging through him, making his cock stiffen a little as Hunter rubbed over his pecs and nipples.

He was breathing through his teeth, already aware of the possible reason for why the wolf had stuffed him with that huge plug. Still, hearing it brought stinging bitter tears in his eyes. He didn’t want a next time— 

“There won’t be a next time!” Spike growled as he pushed with his knees, not much strength needed to shove Hunter off.

Hunter chuckled as Spike snarled at him, eyes bright with amusement. Go find a bastard like himself? Hadn’t he, though?

He was about to respond when he was shoved off, grunting and growling as he landed on the bed, pivoting to prepare himself to defend— Spike was already breathing heavily, looking as if that had taken more out of the bitch than intended. Hunter couldn’t help but smile, glad the bitch was recovering, and that Spike seemed no less feisty than the day he’d met him. He couldn’t be angry at the show of force, not when it proved Spike was on the mend.

“Find a bastard like myself…” he echoed, his amused smile turning vicious, arousal running through him. “Isn’t that what I’ve already done, precious? Found and claimed the ideal bastard for my bitch?”

Laughing, Hunter wrestled Spike’s arms down, using his superior leverage to trap each hand against the mattress, as he dipped his head down to lick and kiss over Spike’s heaving tits. He couldn’t resist the urge to suck one into his mouth, the muscle taut and dense against his tongue.

“There will be a next time. And a time after that. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t move or remember your damn title.” Hunter rumbled, glancing towards Spike’s groin. “Looks like you enjoy the thought. Pretty cock getting hard.”

Spike's heart was pounding as he breathed heavily. There was anger, outrage and fear swirling around inside him, making him feel lightheaded.He had strained his body beyond what it was capable of under his injuries, but he didn’t care. He felt feral and pissed as Hunter answered back.

“I’m an alpha —” Spike growled through his teeth as the wolf wrestled his arms down. “I’m not a fucking bitch —” voice breaking as he felt wet heat ever his chest, heart shuddering.

He tried to push off the bastard, but he was stuck on top of him, a desperate growl escaping him as he flexed all his muscles but the wolf on top barely flinched from his push. Spike huffed and whined, eyes watering as he realized just how little he could do right now. Unable to stop the words from digging into his brain.

“No—” he denied it fiercely, choking on his own breath. No, he wasn’t enjoying this. It wasn’t true…

“You’re perfect , is what you are.” Hunter mumbled into Spike’s skin.

His mouth still full of the wolf’s heavy pectoral, not caring that he was getting drool all over the bitch as he licked and slurped to the other, sucking the nipple hard and red. Spike was healing so much faster than he had expected. Even while watching the Brookhavens let their sobbing son take out his anger on Spike, seeing the bruises bloom and start fading, he hadn’t known just how fast Spike could regenerate. The Brookhaven boy wasn’t a fighter, weak and lightly muscled, better suited to lounging on the expensive couches the family had all over their mansion. Those wounds had healed nearly as quickly as they were given, until the boy had grabbed a knife and stabbed Spike’s shoulder, raising the blade again, only to be pulled back. 

Spike had laughed then, vicious and gorgeous, uncaring of the beating he was given after. Hunter’s then approaching rut had flared, his entire body wanting— needing to claim Spike for his own.

“You were an alpha,” Hunter rumbled, lifting his head from assaulting Spike’s chest. “Now a strong bitch. Nothing like those wilting, empty playthings. Powerful.” He lifted himself up, looking down at his cub’s rage filled face. “The most beautiful bastard I’ve seen in a long time. Getting me so hard. If only you were already healed, precious. The things I’d do…”

Spike breathing was labored, air coming out in broken puffs as he could feel something in his abdomen stirring as Hunter pressed into him. His body was heavy on top of him, mouth hot and wet, sucking on Spike's chest, teeth scraping. The scent of arousal, the heavy breathing, being pinned down, the plug inside him squishing his prostate— His hard cock rubbed into  Hunter’s stomach, rubbing into fabric. Even that rough feeling felt good…

The anger was turning into outrage and confusion. Nothing was making any sense. He couldn’t understand why he was feeling anything else besides offense and anger. Being told insulting things - that he was a bitch, that he wasn’t an alpha anymore - should have made him even more furious. But instead something else curled inside him. An understanding. 

Spike couldn’t accept that he had lost this battle, nor that he had been claimed. He couldn’t accept that he had lost his position, pack and way of life. He just couldn’t— but he knew the Way of the Wolf. He knew what losing a battle meant, what it meant to get marked, claimed. He had done it to others. It made perfect sense when he was on the right side of things - when he was the one who was victorious, who could lay claim.

The other way around? It just didn’t make any sense… 

Spike’s green eyes stared baffled and defiant. 

“Get off me!” he growled. 

His heart was beating so fast it felt like it would burst through his chest. He was horrified that the horny bastard was on top of him, wanting to do, god knows what, to him and Spike didn’t have the strength to fight him off.

Hunter could feel the hot press of Spike’s cock against his stomach as he lowered his head again to continue kissing and sucking Spike’s nipples, working his way down to trail his tongue over Spike’s flexing abs. He scraped his teeth over Spike’s stomach, sighing as he eyed that beautiful cock, before looking up at Spike.

“Awful lot of complaints when you’re feeling so good, precious.” He chuckled, pressing his cheek against Spike’s erection. “Am I wrong? I didn’t make my claim after beating you? Should we try again when you’re healed?”

He tilted his head to suck a kiss on the end of Spike’s cock, humming in appreciation. Velvety soft and hot. He wanted to suck it, but the way Spike was acting, he didn’t want to reward bad behavior.

“I’ve been making you feel good. Seems fair to do the same for me, don’t you think?” He asked, scooting back up the bed, his cock bobbing as he moved up near Spike’s head. “Open up for me, baby.”

He slid his hand into Spike’s hair, gripping it tightly to turn Spike’s head towards his cock.

Spike huffed, looking down to see the man kissing and sucking on his nipples. In any other situation he would have been pleased. If it had been his own bitch, getting so eager to make him feel good – he would have loved it… 

So now he was looking down, seeing what he didn’t mind seeing but knowing what he just couldn’t accept. Hunter treated him— called him— his bitch. He had stuffed him with a plug so he could change his bones, make it easier to fuck him— none of these things added up with the way the wolf’s teeth scraped over Spike’s stomach, sliding down, pressing his face into his cock. Spike’s heart jumped as Hunter sucked a kiss on it, eyes staring wide and unbelieving.

And he was right to not believe it. The man shifted closer, kneeling beside Spike’s head as he positioned his face toward his groin.

Spike was in a panic, choking on a breath that got stuck in his throat as he tried to pull himself away from this trap. No man had ever put his cock so close to his face, and this was even dared to pull at his hair to position his face.

“How dare you?!” Spike snarled, his body visibly trembling underneath the man. He looked up with eyes filled with burning rage and helpless tears.

“It’s just a cock, precious.” Hunter couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Spike’s face. “Your bitch had one. Did you never play with it?”

He rubbed the head against Spike’s cheek, smearing precum over the flushed flesh. He growled low in his throat, a warning if Spike even thought about biting. 

“If you bite, I’ll break your nose.” He promised, trailing his cock against Spike’s lips. “Be good and you get rewarded. That’s how this works, isn’t it? Lick it. Give it a taste.”

He grabbed Spike’s jaw, rubbing the joint, then prying the bitch’s mouth open. He leaned back a little to rest his cockhead against the bitch’s lips, prodding forward to ease just the tip into Spike’s mouth, shifting his hips around to roll the head around against Spike’s mouth. Lightly, he touched his cock against Spike’s tongue.

“Lick.” Hunter growled. “Give it a little suck.”

Spike didn’t want to… he didn’t want to do it—

His heart was beating wildly fast. Cold sweat beaded over his neck. He felt like he couldn’t breathe as he heard Hunter laughing. He shut his eyes tightly as he felt a slow drag of the sleek cockhead over his face. He tried to keep his mouth closed but Spike wasn’t fast enough to shut his mouth as Hunter rubbed his cockhead over his lips. A salty and bitter taste. A frightened, trembling noise came out of him. His shocked eyes moved from the dick in front of him, up to the man's smirking face.

Every low threatening growl made him tremble as Spike couldn’t push the man away. Somehow Hunter managed to pry open his teeth, having his jaw in an iron grip. His heart almost stopped as his mouth was held open by force. Spike was trapped, his breath coming out broken and choked up. 

He saw the cock coming closer before he felt the swollen hot head enter his mouth, filling it up, pressing against the roof. Spike's tongue was sandwiched underneath. His eyes teared up. A displeased groan and a pitiful whine, muffled in his full mouth as the Hunter pressed further in.

Spike was too shocked to believe it. Holding a cock in his mouth... He looked up with wide eyes at the man who ordered him to suck, frightened and angry for being forced to do something so demeaning. His gaze faltered as he heard the threat.

Spike didn't know how to breathe as none of the options seemed good. If he did it through his nose then his lungs got full with Hunter’s musky heavy scent, but if he did through his mouth he could barely get air in as he felt his breath heat the cock in his mouth…

Spike didn't want to do it! He didn’t care if Hunter broke his nose. He’d lived through it before. If his pack saw him— if any of the inferior wolves in the city saw him— he would never be able to live it down. He would never be taken seriously again. His reputation would be ruined—

Spike’s mouth was about as appealing as a dead fish. Open, but not moving. Hot, but not inviting. Hunter huffed as he slid his cock back then forward, feeling some stimulation from the wolf’s tongue, still, beneath the head of his cock. Spike’s mouth was small, same as the bitch’s ass. He doubted he could get much into Spike’s mouth, willing or not.

“Making me do all the work?” He asked, pumping his hips slowly rocking his cock in and out. “Just going to take me longer to come, precious.”

He held Spike’s jaw as he pressed in deeper, fingers tightening in Spike’s hair. He could just barely feel the back of Spike’s throat as he slid in, fingers firmly holding the bitch’s jaw to keep it open. He could work with this. It was hot and wet, slick as Spike drooled around him, the bitch’s soft lips stroking him in a way that was pleasurable. It was better than using his hand, at least.

“Breathe through your nose as I draw out.” He murmured, a little breathy as it was finally starting to feel good as he shallowly thrust into Spike’s mouth.

Something inside Spike burned with blinding shame as Hunter started slowly fucking his mouth. There was no way for his lips to not close around the cock, his mouth small compared to the girth pushing inside. His tongue slipped between his lower teeth and the cock, making the slide easier, unobstructed by teeth as he did whatever he could to breathe.

Having a cock in his mouth… in the past Spike had beaten the shit out of his own pack brothers for the mere suggestion when got himself a male bitch. And now it was happening to him… Spike thought about biting, about getting this done once and for all… but his heart shrunk back as he looked up with shaken eyes. Even if he did manage to do some damage it would matter very little when it would come to fighting off the giant bastard. With his pelvis broken Spike was immobile… Hunter had the advantage in every way. 

He looked up with teary and hateful eyes. Hunter was obviously enjoying himself as he pressed forward, the cock slipping in too easy, filling his mouth completely. The feeling of it being hard and yet soft when it scraped against his teeth. A taste of bitter and salt mixing with his saliva made him want to gag, as precum dripped off the tip and slid down his throat. He squeezed his eyes, tears getting stuck in his eyelashes.

Somehow his instinct for survival seemed to have won over his pride this time. Spike was doing his best to suck, while still battling himself over it. His hands were on Hunter’s thighs, pushing and digging his nails in as the wolf thrusted inside his mouth. An unpleasant tingle ran around his groin, as he sucked clumsily. 

As the bitch finally moved his tongue, Hunter rumbled out a pleased sigh. It wasn’t the best he’d had, but it wasn’t the worse. Spike was clearly unfamiliar with the concept, his teeth scraping a little, making him wince, but as those lips wrapped around him, Hunter couldn’t bring himself to mind. 

He loosened his hold in Spike’s hair, pumping slowly as Spike applied some suction, moaning. Stroking back the bitch’s hair, he smiled almost softly, easing Spike’s mouth open a bit more, more freely able to pump his cock within a willing mouth. The hateful glare earned Spike a chuckle as he fucked Spike’s mouth slowly.

“Relax your jaw, or it’ll ache after.” Hunter nearly purred. “If you feel like you’re about to gag, swallow. When you’re better healed, we’ll try going deeper. Don’t want to hurt your throat more, precious. Being so good for me. Even if you don’t want to.”

He huffed a chuckle, the sound becoming a moan as Spike’s lips sucked around him. Humming, he reached down, wrapping his fingers around the bitch’s cock, stroking slowly in time with his thrusts. He tested the back of Spike’s throat again, pulling back when he felt the bitch gag.

“Swallow.” He reminded. “Don’t constantly suck. Use your tongue a little. Rub it around. Can’t breathe when you’re sucking.”

Hunter slid his fingers up to stroke just beneath the head of Spike’s cock, pumping a little faster for a moment, before stroking back down again.

Spike was getting lightheaded not being able to breathe properly. So when the man started giving him instructions he followed them before he had time to even think it through. The cock in his mouth was hot and already completely slicked up with Spike’s saliva. His jaw ached even before Hunter tried to get it to open more. A choked angry groan rumbled in his full mouth.

Spike’s hands lifted on instinct, palms pressing against Hunter’s thighs. Spike couldn’t do it, it was too big. He couldn’t see how much was in his mouth but he could see there was too much left… He tried to push him off but the Hunter wasn’t budging. He gave out a helpless little whimper. 

He couldn’t make sense of what the man was saying with the pounding of his heart stuck in his ears. Then Hunter pushed further in, and Spike knew there was no more room. Hunter stroked down his body, reaching his cock, stroking lightly. A muffled moan escaped Spike as he tried to pump his cock into that hand, but couldn’t. Hunter's dick dug too deep for his untrained throat. The pinch of pleasure from having his cock played with made his body react, overwhelmed. He tried to stop it in a rushed panic. He tried to pull away as he felt himself biting down—

Feeling the first press of teeth, Hunter reacted quickly. He pulled down on Spike’s jaw as he let the bitch pull away, his own hips quickly retreating. He barely got his dick out in time, relatively unscathed. Growling, he let go of Spike’s jaw as he raised his hand— And paused, seeing the panicked look on his bitch’ face.

Spike hadn’t meant to bite. He could tell that much from the tear filled eyes. His fingers squeezed into a fist as he looked down at his cock. The small nip had been unpleasant, but he’d counted on Spike biting— the reason he’d kept a hold of the bitch’s jaw.

Breathing in slow and deep, Hunter lowered his hand, letting the sudden rise of anger work through him as he made himself instead wipe the tears from Spike’s eyelashes.

“What did I say about biting?” Hunter softly growled, lightly tapping his cock against Spike’s mouth. “Kiss it.”

The hand in Spike’s hair pulled so hard it actually yanked him back, as he felt his jaw being pried and held open. He didn’t have the air or capacity to make any kind of noise as he coughed, tears overflowing from his eyes and sliding down his cheeks. 

The growl made a chill run down his spine as Hunter held his head back, sure that the wolf would beat him to a pulp. He looked up as the fist never came down, his body trembling. Instead, to Spike’s bewilderment, Hunter wiped the tears off his eyelashes. He realized he had stopped breathing, finally taking in some air, shaky and shallow.

Spike couldn’t really think about anything. Couldn’t think about how wrong it was, how humiliating and beneath him it was. He was just glad that he was able to breathe and that Hunter had not hurt him.

As Hunter lightly tapped his cockhead against Spike’s mouth, he closed his eyes, feeling his wet eyelashes brush down on his cheeks. Shame curled into his stomach as he did what he was told, kissing Hunter’s cock, lips pressing softly into the slippery head. He opened his eyes, looking up hesitant and shaken.

As Spike breathed and kissed his cock, Hunter took a few deep breaths. It hadn’t hurt badly, the pain already fading, soothed by the soft kiss. It seemed Spike already understood what would have happened, had he bitten on purpose. Those shaking eyes looking up at him ignited something strange, almost forgotten in Hunter’s chest: sympathy. His heart beat faster, affection following the sympathy, almost like a cut open infection.

Shifting on the bed, Hunter tipped Spike’s chin towards him as he kissed Spike’s lips gently, shaken that he still remembered how. Part of him still raged, wanted to punish, to consume. A smaller part, growing in strength, wouldn’t let him. Punishment was ineffective against honest mistakes. He’d forgotten… He kissed Spike again, breath shaking as he pulled back.

“Didn’t mean to do that, did you?” He asked, breathy and low, stretching out beside Spike, careful not to bump the bitch’s hips. “First time is hard. Gotta learn to relax your jaw, not bite when it spasms. Here.”

He guided one of Spike’s hands to his cock as he kissed along the bitch’s throat, the wild beast inside him slowly fading again. His body was trembling from the sudden rush of adrenaline as he wrapped Spike’s fingers around him, grunting softly.

“Catch your breath, baby,” he murmured against the bite on Spike’s shoulder.

Spike's heart was beating fast, nested into his throat. He felt lightheaded, ashamed and frightened as Hunter looked down at him, Spike’s lips still on his cock. For some reason he could feel stirring in his own groin from the way the wolf was looking at him. Spike huffed, as Hunter shifted, taking the opportunity to sniffle and blink the tears out of his eyes before his chin was nudged and he felt lips on his own. His eyes stared wide and unbelieving as the man kissed him gently. A deep relief washed over him, closing his eyes the second time Hunter nudged and kissed him.

Spike understood that Hunter’s threat had not simply been about breaking his nose. The rage that he had seen had been beyond that. Beyond anything that could be controlled. If the wolf had not somehow managed to stop himself then Spike wasn’t sure how far the man would have gone with his punishment. There was a small part of Spike that knew there had been a real threat to his life.

Spike was still shaken as the man laid beside him guiding his hand to his cock. His face was flushed with shame as his fingers wrapped around the shaft. Spike couldn’t believe it… he was trapped in this place with this bastard and there was nothing he could do. He had never thought or imagined he would be in a position like this – where he had no choice. He took in trembling breaths, swallowing down the precum that had mixed with his saliva, making it hard to breathe as it stuck to his throat like glue.

His teary eyes looked down, at where his own hand was. He couldn’t help but see himself as well as his own hard cock. Spike was overcome with shame, breathing harshly. 

Hunter kissed his neck, Spike’s feeling the hairs on the back of it rise up. It was like electricity that ran through his spine, aware of his throat being completely exposed to another male. He wasn’t stupid, he understood this won’t end unless he made it end. And this was better than having to suck the man’s cock… With a trembling hand he pumped  Hunter’s length, trying to convince himself that it was just like stroking himself. That it didn’t mean anything. That he was only doing it because he had no choice.

Breathing in deeply against Spike’s skin, Hunter settled down more comfortably. He slid his arm beneath Spike’s head as he nuzzled and kissed the wolf’s throat, opening his mouth so he could suck and nibble. It wasn’t a hot mouth, and Spike was hardly practiced in stroking another man, but it felt good. 

“Good, like that…” he murmured, stroking a hand over Spike’s chest. “Apply pressure like you would with your own. No need to be shy with it.”

He smiled against Spike’s throat, breathing out a soft groan. Glancing down, he saw the bitch was still hard, huffing softly as he let go of Spike’s chest to wrap his fingers around the bitch’s cock. It was heavy, impressive, and as attractive as the rest of his bitch’s body. He matched Spike’s hand as he stroked slowly, adding a slow twist of his wrist as he let his hand glide upwards. Thumbing beneath the head, he nudged Spike’s chin with his nose.

“First time handling another man’s cock?” He asked. “What did you do with that bitch of yours? Never touch him like this?”

His voice was low and breathy, rumbling softly as he rocked his hips into Spike’s hand, encouraging him to stroke more firmly as he applied pressure around Spike’s cock. Good behavior was rewarded, even if he could tell his bitch was less than pleased. He needed to train him properly, teach Spike how to do everything. It wasn’t too surprising to think Spike hadn’t pleasured his own bitch, no doubt where a lot of the issues stemmed from.

Spike was starting to get his breath back after choking on Hunter’s cock. There was a slight rasp as he breathed in but he swallowed around it, clenching his teeth. He was consumed by anger fueled with humiliation. 

Spike Bloodhound made to suck cock. It couldn’t be real. If something like that could happen then Spike didn’t know what to believe. He had led one of the strongest packs in the Hunt and he had never known there to be another wolf that could rival his strength. The fact that Hunter had no pack explained it - lone wolves couldn’t be effectively tracked. There was a reason they were called Outsiders. Most of them remained hidden - on both sides of the war efforts. 

Even so Spike couldn’t believe there was someone like Hunter— hidden. Someone who could render him powerless. It just wasn’t possible—

Spike grunted as he felt wet heat over his throat. An open mouth as he stroked Hunter’s cock with a trembling hand. This couldn’t be happening. It was absurd— he gasped as he felt the wolf grasp his cock, his breath catching as he was stroked slowly.

“You’re fucking crazy…” Spike growled between his teeth but he didn't stop pumping his hand. Trying to distance himself from the fact he was holding another man’s cock, heavier and bigger than his own. Pleasure was flaring in his own abdomen now that his dick was getting attention…

Who would fucking stroke their bitch’s cock? What did it matter if a bitch got pleasure—

Spike stifled a moan, turning his head as his cheeks flushed with shame. He was stroking Hunter harder, faster, in time with his own pleasure. His mind confused which hand was where, getting startled after every stroke remembering the hand on himself was not his own, while his was stroking someone else. He panted, flushed red to his ears because he could feel he was getting closer.

Hunter rumbled in satisfaction as Spike stroked him, licking a long, hot line up Spike’s throat. He growled low in his throat as Spike grumbled the insult. His fingers sank into the bitch’s hair, pulling Spike’s head back as he held the wolf’s cock tighter for a moment.

“What was that?” He growled, face hovering close as he stared into Spike’s eyes. 

He gave Spike’s head a little shake, letting go of the bitch’s hair to hold his chin. His bitch had a mouth on him, and not enough sense to know when not to insult him. Lightly, he nipped Spike’s lower lip, his growl softly rumbling in his chest.

“Tighten your grip.” Hunter grumbled, stroking up the bitch’s cock to thumb over the head, rubbing over the slit. “Do more than just stroke. Twist your hand on the downstroke, play with the head. It’s more than just stroking.”

Spike exhaled through his teeth as he felt Hunter lick a line up his throat. A low growl nested in his chest, too aware of the danger the wolf's teeth possessed. And he was right to keep his guard up as the bastard pulled at his hair, exposing his throat completely. Spike whimpered as Hunter squeezed his cock, his back arching. He could feel his dick throbbing  inside that grip. His heart was beating so heavy he was sure his pulse could be clearly seen through his exposed neck.

Spike’s growling got stuck in his throat as Hunter stared down into his eyes. His lower lip trembled, realising exactly how fucked he was - naked, vulnerable, injured, in Hunter's hands, completely at his mercy, unable to neither fight nor run away...

Hunter nipped his trembling lip, growling softly. He could kill him if he wanted to. He was only alive because he wanted him alive. He had never before felt so weak and helpless...

Spike stifled a sob as Hunter released his lip, telling him what to do. For some reason, he couldn't tell why, it didn't make any sense— Spike felt a surge of electric pleasure stab through him, hard and heavy as the wolf stroked him. He moaned, goosebumps over his skin as he tried to follow Hunter's instructions...

Just a little submission. Hunter rumbled his approval as Spike moaned, gripping his dick more firmly. In response, he continued stroking Spike’s cock, twisting his hand down the wolf’s impressive girth, knowing how good that would feel. He could only hope Spike had the presence of mind to follow his lead. 

He moaned as he felt Spike’s hand rub over his cockhead, holding the wolf’s neck gently as he kissed him. His bitch. Wild and vicious. Too proud to have any sense, but Spike would learn. There wasn’t much choice for the bitch. He could be fair, however, but firm. 

Rocking his hips into Spike’s hand, he stroked the bitch faster, giving the occasional squeeze near the base of Spike’s cock. The wolf’s knot was starting to swell, soft and hard on his palm. He wanted to taste it again, but preferred kissing, his beard scraping along Spike’s stubble as he eased his tongue hungrily into that hot mouth. He adjusted his grip on Spike’s throat, holding that shapely jaw as he rolled his tongue against Spike’s, giving a guttural moan as he felt his orgasm approaching.

Pulling back from the kiss to give Spike time to breathe, he kissed along Spike’s face,following cheekbones to jaw. Curious, he slipped his thumb into Spike’s mouth, pressing down on the bitch’s tongue. Groaning, he slid his thumb in and out, before opening Spike’s mouth to lick into Spike’s mouth again.

What was it about this wolf? Was it just the strength and ferocity that drew him in? The knowledge that Spike felt much the way he did about the world? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, eyes closing as he pressed his mouth back over the bitch’s, teeth lightly biting Spike’s lower lip again.

Spike turned his head to the side, overcome with shame that he was feeling pleasure from this. Hia breathing was hard and fast, his chest heaving as the man kept jerking him off, hard and skillful. Spike tried to imitate the motion with his own hand as Hunter still held him by the neck.

He panted over the wolf's lips, that was suddenly so close that it startled him. And then lips pressed into his. He growled, his back shivering.

He could only think about what his life had been a week before. He would have never even imagined himself in a place like this, as a plaything for another wolf... Spike sobbed into the kiss, hiccuping, unable to stop himself. The more he moved, the more his cock was being stroked, he could feel the stuffed feeling in his behind... How could this be happening to him?—

Hunter slipped his thumb into his mouth and Spike was so bewildered that he stopped crying, blinking tears away. Too scared to react and bite down as the man pressed over his tongue and then slid it in and out. Spike's face flushed with even greater shame and anger as the shock passed. He really was treated like a bitch... No time to do anything as Hunter pressed him down into a vicious kiss...

Spike’s knot had started to form and he felt so damn close his thighs were trembling, panting and groaning into Hunter's mouth, too taken by pleasure to think straight.

It seemed the best way to shut Spike up, besides stuffing his mouth full, was to touch his cock. The wolf was so absorbed in the feeling of being close to orgasm that he wasn’t resisting. 

Hunter moaned into the bitch’s mouth as Spike’s hand mimicked his own, stroking and rubbing the head, twisting down over his length. His own knot was forming, too large for Spike’s fingers to close around fully, but the bitch seemed to be trying, even if the reaction was mindlessly done. He tugged down Spike’s lower lip as he devoured his mouth, eyes slightly open. He could make out the flushed heat covering Spike’s cheeks, the color flushed down to Spike’s chest. 

Cute. Thighs trembling from pleasure, cock leaking freely the further Hunter pushed, the harder he stroked. He pumped the head of Spike’s cock, every now and then giving the wolf a full stroke, fingers sliding down to squeeze around the bitch’s knot. Listening to Spike, the sweet sounds, the wet breaths between their mouths, sent a shiver of lust through him. If only he hadn’t broken the wolf’s pelvis, they could be fucking now. He could show Spike the pleasures he’d been missing, how good a cock could feel jabbing into his prostate. 

Growling hungrily, he held onto the back of the bitch’s neck, feeling the soft, fresh scar tissue where he’d first claimed Spike. He dragged his teeth up Spike’s cheek, breathing heavily as he nudged below Spike’s ear.

“Wish I was fucking you now,” he groaned. “Have you coming on my cock. Show you how good it feels when I’m not in rut.”

Speeding up his hand, he tightened his grip, kissing back to Spike’s mouth. His breathing was becoming labored, his orgasm nearly upon him.

“Come for me, baby. Let me see your face.”

Spike was having difficulty thinking beyond the impending orgasm. For a moment he could let himself forget about everything else. He huffed, driving his head back as Hunter bit his lips, stole the air from his mouth with devouring kisses. All his muscles were flexed, his back arching into the hand stroking him, body trembling as he could feel the pleasure rolling in. He gasped and groaned as he felt teeth on his cheek, breath heavy over his ear.

Hunter spoke and Spike growled, angry that the bastard was making it harder for him to come, putting unpleasant images in his head—

His displeasure was easily forgotten as Hunter tightened his grip, the pumps of his cock inside his palm feeling so tight as if he was about to knot. His own grip tightened around Hunter’s cock. It was so hard to breathe, his mouth left hanging open and the wolf kissed him.

Then his knot caught in the tight palm. He tried to thrust into it but his waist protested. Despite that the orgasm rolled through him, mixing with the pain from his pelvis. He cried out, throwing his head back as he ejaculated again and again— he could feel the solid object inside him, press into his prostate. His body couldn’t keep up, his cry turning into a whining groan.

Feeling the slight movement from Spike’s hips, Hunter tightened his grip around Spike’s knot, tugging and pulling on it as if it were caught in someone’s body. He huffed, entranced as he watched Spike start to come. He hadn’t had the presence of mind during his rut to watch Spike’s face before as the wolf had repeatedly fallen apart on his cock. He didn’t want to miss it now.

He gasped in shock as Spike’s hand tightened around his cock, mindlessly shoving his knot forward into Spike’s clenching palm. Mouth open, he groaned and huffed, eyesight narrowing down to Spike’s face as the bitch kept coming. He felt that wonderful disconnect that came with the ecstasy of his orgasm, coming over Spike’s hand and their stomachs with hot pulses. He curled towards Spike, holding the bitch’s chin as he moaned and panted against Spike’s cheek. 

Dimly, he was aware of his own hand moving again, stroking Spike’s knot through the orgasm, eyes closing as he tried to catch his breath. It was just a hand job, but his mind was completely blank, save for the need to hold onto his pleasure, and to take Spike over fully. Slowly, his hand sank back down to hold the wolf’s knot, keeping an even pressure over it. 

With a groan, he let himself sink into the bed beside Spike, a dazed smile on his face. “Came together…” he mumbled, lips brushing Spike’s cheek.

Spike's hips trembled as he fought his instincts to thrust. Hunter was already tugging and pulling on his knot, squeezing tight. Nothing else existed in the world outside of his orgasm, his hand mindlessly gripping Hunter's knot.

His orgasm was starting to fade as the wolf beside him curled toward him. He couldn't pull away as the man pressed into him. Spike whimpered as Hunter stroked his knot through his orgasm. Spike felt like he might die if this kept going, but as his orgasm faded so did the stroking stop. Only a steady tight pressure on his knot, leaving him heaving, his muscles suddenly relaxing. He slipped into that easy afterglow, tired, happy and relaxed, not realizing he was pressed into Hunter, and he could feel his lips on his cheek. He opened his eyes to see a bearded, grinning face. It made Spike pale, mortified that he had let this happen. At the same time he was overtaken by shame.

What had happened—

Hunter was laying on his side, pleasantly sedate, warm and a little sweaty from a surprisingly good orgasm. His bitch was pressed into him, breathing heavily, loose-limbed and hot against his side. For a moment, Hunter could almost see this being his life; spending time with his bitch, lazy moments where they relaxed together, made each other feel good. The confusing time he’d had trying to settle back into life after the war didn’t seem so daunting, not with someone beside him who also seemed unable to forget what it meant to survive, to give in to the wolf, to long for those simpler times, even if danger and death were always nearby.

So many of his contacts within the Nature groups wanted to pretend the war had never happened, that they could continue life as if nothing had been changed. But Hunter had been changed, irreversibly it felt. He’d ridden the wolf for long, tasted the flesh of his own kind, and he couldn’t remember, most days, what life had been before. There was only now. Thinking on his feet, adapting to new change, and all of it had been faced alone.

He sighed softly as Spike seemed to come back to himself, chuckling at the confused look on the bitch’s face. He held Spike’s chin, lightly shaking the wolf’s head.

“Surprised you enjoyed yourself?” He asked.

With a groan, he sat up, looking at his semen drenched hand still holding Spike’s knot. With a small huff, he released the bitch’s dick, lifting his fingers to his mouth to give it a taste. Still smiling, he unpeeled Spike’s hand from his cock. He gave Spike a wink as he got up, stretching luxuriously before heading back to the kitchen to collect the basin he had bought. Come running down his stomach , Hunter took his time coming back to the bedroom, giving his stunned bitch a small smirk, before filling the basin with warm water in the bathroom.

Somehow managing to carry the water, washcloths, and a bar of fresh, woodsy smelling soap from the bathroom, he rejoined Spike on the bed. He dipped one of the rags into the water, wringing it out, before rubbing some of the soap into the cloth until he had a slight lather. Leaning back over Spike, he gently wiped down the bitch’s face, being careful not to get any soap in his eyes.

“You’re not the only one weirdly satisfied,” Hunter murmured, working the cloth over Spike’s throat and shoulders.