The hapless pair were having one of the same few arguments they tended to cycle through on a weekly basis.

“You are not putting your mark on me.” Ask hissed as they marched around their patrol route, his eyes still staring straight ahead of him.

“Why not?” Malachai grumbled, also never taking his gaze from the path they were following through the woods.

They had a tendency to follow the same circling lines of argument whenever this topic arose but neither of them had anything new to add to the discussion and neither would give in.

“You know why!” Ash whispered, “I’m not a sub!”

“You are sometimes!”

“Dominants don’t walk around with marks on their necks!” He huffed, stepping over a large branch in his path, “People will think I’m weak, that I need my big strong boyfriend to protect me!”

They both paused at the small cabin that marked part of their patrol route, stepping inside and signing off on the guard rota sheet with their estimated time of checking that stretch of their territory.

Once they were back on track on their way to the next guard point Malachai finally responded, “Marks aren’t only to ward off other wolves, they’re a show of love!”

“Then why won’t you take my mark?”

“Well, I mean...” Malachai struggled to continue his answer, glancing around at the tall trees for guidance, unfortunately this was not Pocahontas and he had to spit out his words eventually, “Let’s put it this way, even if you’re not a sub, if we were to stand side-by-side, people would assume I was the dominant.”

“Because you’re two inches taller?!” Ash asked incredulously. “I know subs that are the same height as their dominants, anomalies exist, Malachai!”

“It’s just the way people assume things.”

“Well, they shouldn’t.”

“Okay.” Malachai relented, although they both knew it wasn’t.

With that, they finished their circuit in silence.

~

By the time they returned to Malachai’s room Ash had already lost his biting anger and found his stomach tensing with arousal. Malachai’s mere presence could sometimes be all it took to trigger his wanton wolf and it had Ash praying to the Goddess on an almost weekly basis these days that she would chain his wolf up with a dildo in its anus to keep it from sending him into meltdown with its random cravings for domination.

His own body was betraying his frustrated mind with waves of want. It was clear Malachai could smell it, he was inhaling deep and brushing the tips of his fingers over every limb he could reach as they climbed the stairs to his room.

“I’m still mad at you.” Ash grumbled as he closed the door behind them, pushing back against Malachai’s crotch and enjoying the wandering hands that climbed under his shirt, sliding it off slowly.

“I know, love.” Malachai hummed into his neck.

“As soon as you’ve fucked the submissive out of me I’m gonna be mad at you again.”

He was becoming breathless just from the grazing touches of his mate, his muscles flexing involuntarily in response.

Malachai grunted something that sounded like, “Fine by me.” except that his teeth were nipping along Ash’s shoulder, pulling softly at his skin.

“Great,” Ash panted, grinding back against Malachai desperately, “now hurry up, the sweats are starting and I’m about to go full-on Ash Attack.”

~

After only two rounds Ash’s body had turned to flimsy rubber, he could barely hold himself up in Malachai’s lap where he was being bounced maliciously on his mate’s hard dick. His back was resting against Malachai’s firm chest, damp with sweat and exuding intense heat from the effort of keeping Ash in place while he rammed him.

Ash’s head was bobbing sluggishly in time with the thrusts, his body almost limp against Malachai’s. All he could feel was pleasure clouding over his senses, his insides filled entirely. It was all too much, too intense. His energy had been sapped clean out of him from the tip of his cock and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep consciousness. Every muscle in his body was screaming for mercy.

“Where’s your stamina, baby?” Malachai cooed, “Since when do you run out of steam so quickly?”

“Mmmm…” Ash hummed, his legs trembling and his eyes sliding closed.

“What’s the point of all our military drills and training if you can’t last a few rounds?”

Malachai’s teasing had zero impact on his orgasm-fogged brain.

“Mal…” He whispered, “Ah, ‘m tired…”

“I know, love.”

“Please.”

Malachai slammed in to the hilt for every single thrust and Ash finally understood what girls meant when they made jokes about men being ‘in their guts’. He wouldn’t be surprised if his stomach was left filled with cum when his mate was finished with him.

“Just a bit more, baby.” Malachai grunted.

On the verge of sobs, Ash gasped out, “Oh goddess.”

It didn’t slow Malachai’s tempo, the hits never allowing enough time for Ash’s eyes to slide shut for more than a second or two despite his extreme exhaustion.

Malachai growled, “No fainting till I come.”

But it was Ash who came, for the third time now in case you were counting, a pitiful squirt of semen dribbling out as he whimpered his way through the spasms that racked his frame. His breaths were shuddering and his eyelids fluttering.

The thrusts never relented, powering through his orgasm and pounding into his over-sensitised body.

Ash’s body slumped face first into the bed, his torso drenched in sweat and his hair slick but nothing could deter Malachai as he got his fill.

“I’m not done yet.” Malachai groaned, his hips juddering.

Sweat had soaked into the blankets beneath him but Ash couldn’t string the thoughts together in his head to care. If you had asked him his full name he couldn’t have answered aloud. His forehead was sliding along the soft material as he was dragged backwards and forwards over and over by the firm hands around his hips.

After what felt like hours of Ash whimpering into their sheets and Malachai panting in his ear, the jerking motion halted and Ash felt the all-too-familiar sensation of sticky liquid spurting into his arsehole. With a deep, trembling breath that seemed to reach the tips of his fingers and toes, Ash let the last minuscule ounce of energy leave his bones and allowed his body to melt into the bed. His wolf had never been so utterly sated, completely drained of its dominant energy and hostility.

Malachai slapped him on the arse and left him there, presumably to clean himself up in the shower.