Chapter 12: The Scent of a Wolf
The den smelled of home—damp stone, cured pelts, the sharp tang of the cheap sake he’d been drinking too much of lately. Koga pushed aside the heavy hide covering the entrance, the weight of the evening’s performance settling on his shoulders. He needed to sleep. To forget the cool touch on his jaw, the promise in the dark.
The air inside was warmer, thick. And it held another scent, unmistakable and out of place: frost and celestial bloom.
Sesshomaru was there.
He was reclined on the largest fur at the den’s rear, propped against the wall. One knee was drawn up. The firelight from the pit glowed low, but it was enough. Enough to see the elegant, pale hand moving with slow, languid strokes between his legs. Enough to see the hard, flushed length of his cock, gleaming in the dim light. His head was tilted back, eyes half-lidded, his other hand buried in the thick wolf pelt Koga slept on, fingers clenching in the fur as he breathed in deeply.
He was smelling him. Using his scent while he touched himself.
Koga’s heart hammered against his ribs, a trapped animal. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The proud, cold daiyoukai, reduced to this raw, hungry need in the heart of his enemy’s territory. It was the most vulnerable thing Koga had ever witnessed.
Sesshomaru’s golden eyes slid open. He didn’t startle. His hand didn’t stop its rhythmic motion. He simply watched Koga watch him, his expression a mask of eerie calm, betrayed only by the faint flush on his cheeks and the quickening of his breath.
“You’re late,” Sesshomaru said, his voice a low rasp.
“It’s my fucking den,” Koga managed, the words scraping out.
“Then claim it.”
The challenge hung in the air, mingling with the scent of musk and desire. Koga took a step forward, then another, his boots silent on the earthen floor. He dropped to his knees beside the fur, the distance between them electric. Up close, the view was devastating. The smooth, pale skin, the elegant shape of him, the precome beading at the tip. Sesshomaru’s hand stilled, but he didn’t cover himself.
Koga reached out, his own claw-tipped fingers trembling slightly. He wrapped his hand around Sesshomaru’s, feeling the heat, the silken slide of skin. He gently moved Sesshomaru’s hand aside.
“Let me,” Koga whispered, the command soft.
He replaced Sesshomaru’s hand with his own, his grip firmer, rougher. A sharp intake of breath was his reward. He began to stroke, learning the rhythm that made Sesshomaru’s thigh tense, the pressure that pulled a low groan from that usually silent throat.
“You’re beautiful,” Koga murmured, the admission torn from some deep, hidden place. He leaned in, his nose skimming the sharp line of Sesshomaru’s hipbone. “Fucking perfect.”
He dipped his head and took the head of Sesshomaru’s cock into his mouth, lapping at the salt-bitter fluid there. Sesshomaru’s hand flew to his hair, not to push him away, but to fist in the silver-blue strands. Koga took him deeper, his mouth hot and wet, using his tongue in flat, demanding strokes along the sensitive vein underneath. He worked him with a fierce dedication, slurping and sucking, one hand cupping and gently rolling his balls.
“Koga.” His name was a strained note, a fracture in the ice.
Koga pulled off with a wet pop, looking up. Sesshomaru’s composure was in tatters. His lips were parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The sight sent a bolt of pure ownership through Koga. He moved upward, kissing a trail over the tight stomach, the defined chest, pausing to lick a pebbled nipple. He mouthed at the column of Sesshomaru’s throat, where the marks had once been, before finally claiming his mouth.
The kiss was nothing like before. It was deep, searching, messy. Sesshomaru met him with equal hunger, his tongue tangling with Koga’s, his sharp canids drawing a faint coppery taste. Koga ground his own aching hardness against Sesshomaru’s thigh, a desperate friction.
“Need to be inside you,” Koga gasped against his lips. “Now.”
Sesshomaru’s answer was to push him back just enough to reach for a small vial that had been lying beside the fur. He pressed it into Koga’s hand. The oil was warm, likely from his own body heat.
Koga’s fingers were clumsy as he coated them. He looked at Sesshomaru, a final silent question. Sesshomaru merely lifted his hips, spreading his legs wider in invitation.
Koga circled the tight, furled entrance with a slick fingertip, feeling it clench. He pushed the tip of his finger in, slowly, watching Sesshomaru’s face. A flutter of lashes, a jaw tightening, then a slow exhale as he relaxed. Koga worked him open with one finger, then two, scissoring and stretching, crooking them until Sesshomaru arched off the fur with a sharp, choked-off sound.
“There?” Koga growled, doing it again.
“Yes.” It was a hiss.
Koga withdrew his fingers. He slicked his own cock, the touch almost too much. He positioned himself, the broad head pressing against that now-yielding opening. He locked eyes with Sesshomaru, amber burning into molten gold.
He pushed in.
It was a slow, inexorable burn, a tight, molten heat that stole the breath from both of them. Koga sank in to the hilt, his forehead dropping to Sesshomaru’s shoulder, a guttural groan ripped from his chest. Sesshomaru’s arms came around him, claws digging into his back, his legs wrapping around Koga’s waist to pull him even deeper.
For a long moment, they didn’t move. Just breathed, fused together. Then Koga drew back and thrust forward again, setting a deep, rolling rhythm.
“Fuck,” Koga panted, the pace quickening. “So tight. You feel… god, you feel like you were made for this.”
Sesshomaru’s responses were fractured—sharp gasps, low groans that vibrated against Koga’s skin. His usual silence was obliterated. He met every thrust, his hips rolling, taking Koga in with a raw hunger that matched his own. The den filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, ragged breathing, and the creak of the fur beneath them.
Koga changed the angle, driving up, and Sesshomaru cried out, a real, undignified sound that went straight to Koga’s cock. He hammered that spot, relentless, his own pleasure coiling tight.
“Come for me,” Koga snarled, his mouth at Sesshomaru’s ear. “I want to feel you come on my cock. Do it.”
His hand slid between them, fisting Sesshomaru’s leaking erection in time with his thrusts. It was too much. Sesshomaru’s body went rigid, his channel clamping down on Koga in rhythmic, pulsing waves as he came with a shattered groan, stripes of hot release painting his stomach and Koga’s hand.
The intense squeezing, the utterly wrecked expression on Sesshomaru’s face, hurled Koga over the edge. With a final, driving plunge, he buried himself as deep as possible and came, his vision whiting out as he emptied himself inside Sesshomaru with a broken shout.
He collapsed, his weight fully on Sesshomaru, spent and shaking. The only sounds were their harsh, slowing breaths and the crackle of the dying fire. The scent of sex was overwhelming.
Minutes passed. Koga, reluctantly, softened and slipped out. He rolled to the side, but immediately pulled Sesshomaru against him, wrapping an arm around his waist, tangling their legs. Sesshomaru allowed it, his back pressed to Koga’s chest.
Koga nuzzled into the silver hair, inhaling the scent of sweat and release and them. He pressed a kiss to Sesshomaru’s shoulder.
“Stay,” he mumbled, already half-gone into exhaustion. Not just for the night. He meant it differently now.
Sesshomaru didn’t answer. But after a long moment, his own hand came to rest over Koga’s where it splayed on his stomach. A silent anchor in the dark.