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“His match, you mean?” I asked, tucking my hand more tightly into Brian’s. “He was amazing.”

“I mean, Brian is always amazing in the ring, but… no, that wasn’t what I meant.” Gabe’s grin turned sly as he delivered a light, teasing punch to Brian’s chest. “I sensed it the moment Klaus walked into the room. So did Biff. He is fully aware of what a well-fed incubus looks like.”

“Oh!” I blinked in surprise and laughed when I finally realised what Gabe meant. As a fellow concubus, he could sense the energy leaking out of my pores, and he’d be able to smell the minute differences in pheromones that signalled whether an incubus was well nourished and satisfied or not. I could detect all the same things in him, and yeah, he wasn’t kidding—that gargoyle sure knew how to keep his boyfriend satisfied.

I couldn’t help but preen, because my boyfriend sure knew how to keep me satisfied too. I was still feeling relaxed and full from our slow, deep fuck this morning, when Brian had rocked over me in bed, pumping me full of pleasure, his tongue in my mouth the entire time.

However, I was never too relaxed or full to do it again at the earliest opportunity. With that in mind, I turned to Brian the moment Gabe and Biff wandered off, reaching up to loop my arms around his neck.

“Take me home?” I smiled up at him, biting my lower lip.

His eyes flared, big, clawed hands flexing on my waist. “You don’t want to watch the last match? It’s Val versus Mads.”

I did, but I wanted him to take me home more. There’d be plenty more opportunities to come and watch the wrestling, but right now… well. Brian was in those slutty little briefs, and he hadn’t showered yet after his match, so he was still all sweaty, and that did something to me. Something that could only be remedied by the feel of all those muscles flexing against me as his big dick pounded my ass.

“Next time,” I told him.

Because there were going to be so many more next times, and I couldn’t wait for all of them.

Chapter 47

Locker Room Trifecta

Klaus

I’d been excited to watch Brian wrestle at Goliaths. To see him perform and be in his element, surrounded by the co-workers who loved him and the fans who idolised him. I’d been so unbelievably proud to watch him, and to meet his colleagues, and to be introduced to them all as his boyfriend.

But I was way more excited for this.

Club Cratos was as chaotic and dingy as I remembered it, and it sent a thrill up my spine. The difference between here and Goliaths was stark, especially seeing the two kinds of venues, and two completely different styles of fighting, so close together. Goliaths was clean and welcoming. Polished and scripted. Camp and energetic and dazzling.

The fights at Cratos were brutal.

They were real and raw and bloody. The crowd was just as loud, but they didn’t even seem to be there to have fun. Fun was the wrong way to describe it. They were there to witness unfiltered violence and aggression. Maybe to live vicariously through fighters who were capable of beating the shit out of each other week after week.

There was nothing polished about this. Nothing camp. It was dark and merciless and inherently toxic.

But Lucifer help me, I still found it just as hot as I had all those months ago.

I’d come with Nat, as well as Rocky and Clark, the gargoyle and fae I’d met the last time I was here. They were dating now, and it was the cutest thing ever. Corey had also come with us to watch his brother fight. I’d learned from Brian that Corey’s brother was Menoetius, the orc he’d fought before. I kind of hoped Brian wasn’t fighting him again. I had a feeling Corey would go on and on about it if he did.

We’d just finished watching a ghoul and a lampyr beat the crap out of each other, and I could tell Nat hadn’t yet decided whether he was titillated or disgusted by it all. He was intrigued, that was for sure, but the violence could be a little hard to watch at times.

However, because he was my loyal best friend, he dutifully cheered and yelled “Come on, Fenrir!” when Brian appeared for his fight.

His opponent this time was another werewolf, this one with light brown fur and dark eyes. The two of them faced off as the referee hastily called out the rules. From what Brian had told me in the past, the only rules were ‘No visible logos’ and ‘Try not to kill each other.’

On my other side, I heard Rocky chuckle and tell Clark, “This reminds me of an old console game I used to play.”

My heart was already beating faster as their fight began. I pressed a hand to my throat, trying very hard to keep my pheromones under control just in case there were any empyns in the crowd again. I was even hornier than I had been the last time I was here.

Because this time, I knew I’d be going home with that mountain of delicious werewolf muscle currently slamming his enormous fist into another werewolf’s jaw. Blood splattered across the already stained mat as the werewolf’s head flew back and he stumbled a few steps. He shook himself quickly like a wet dog to recover, his upper lip peeling back in a growl that revealed sharp fangs. Lifting his fists into a fighting stance, he lunged at Brian.

“Gods, he’s really fierce, isn’t he?” Nat said in my ear, having to raise his voice a little to be heard over the braying crowd.

I could tell Nat didn’t fully understand why Brian did this, or why I supported it. That was fine, though. He didn’t need to. It wasn’t like I thought it was all fine and dandy—it was the epitome of toxic masculinity—but Brian was an adult who knew the risks, and I had zero interest in trying to change him as a person. I knew that one day, he’d probably stop feeling the need to do this. Until then, I’d be here for him, cheering him on and looking after him when it was over.

I beamed in pride and nodded at Nat. “Oh yeah. He’s a beast.”