The flash of red in the other man's eyes only inflamed Carrick's desire further. He himself was usually as cold and unyielding as stone... but even stone could melt.
When the werewolf pulled off his t-hirt, Carrick saw properly for the first time just how heavy the muscles were on the other man's torso. He itched to feel the heat of the werewolf's flesh under his hands. When he ran his fingers up the defined abdomen. fingertips burying themselves in the dark hair between Russell's pectorals, Carrick was lost. "Oh, hell," he murmured, half-despairingly. He could resist no longer.
With a blindingly quick movement, Carrick pushed the werewolf backwards onto the nearest pile of mattresses, coming to rest atop him with one knee on either side of Russell's hips. He gazed down at the hardness he could fee beneath the zip of Russel's jeans, and deliberately pushed his own hips down against the other man's grinding against him deliciously slowly.
"Is this what you want, my wolf?" His voice was thick with desire. "For me to hold you down, ride you hard? Or are you going to spread your legs for me and moan when I impale you on my cock?" He leaned down, his own eyes darkening and voice becoming a smoky whisper. "Or are you going to show me just how strong you are and fuck me hard enough to make me bleed?"