Chapter 4 #2
“Keep stroking,” he commanded, and before the omega could ask any questions and ruin the moment, O buried his face between his cheeks, tongue flattening across that clenched ring of muscle.
The taste of slick, salty, with a hint of unexpected sweetness, greeted him, and his mouth latched around the area and sucked, drawing more of that fluid out.
Fenrir made a strangled sound, but Oberon didn’t check to be sure he was doing what he was supposed to and still rubbing one out.
His grip tightened on the omega’s thighs when he began to struggle, keeping him in place as he continued to lavish his most intimate area.
It took work to loosen him up enough that Oberon could slip inside, and even then, he only managed to squeeze in the tip of his tongue, wiggling it around to help ease the way further.
When was the last time he’d eaten someone out?
Oberon couldn’t recall.
The smell of this omega was potent, more alluring than anyone he’d ever scented in the past. His tongue finally speared through, and he gave a few exploratory pumps before pulling out and going back to licking.
“King,” Fenrir called to him, and O regretfully lifted his head.
Not wanting to leave him empty, Oberon pushed two fingers into him, watching in fascination as the omega’s pupils blew large and he cried out. Letting go of Fenrir’s leg, his other hand slapped the omega’s touch away, capturing his dick and giving a rough pump that had his hips jolting off the bed.
“Your knot, omega,” he reminded, filling the room with his pheromones, liking the way they mixed and mingled with the ones Fenrir was emitting.
A pleased rumble traveled up his chest when the omega was able to take another finger.
“We smell good together, don’t you agree?
You're weeping for me from both places.”
“Fuck off.”
Oberon chuckled and picked up the pace. “I’ll have to discuss how poorly trained the product is with the Mistress of the Wardrobe.”
“Wait,” Fenrir reached for him, “don’t.”
“Stop. Put your hands over your head and keep them there.” There was mild hesitation, but as soon as the omega did as he was told, O rewarded him with a fourth finger.
Or maybe it was a punishment, since the guy gasped as though in pain.
He kept his tempo on his dick, but gentled his touch lower, pressing his fingers against the soft tissue inside of the omega until he found that hidden place that would send him soaring.
Fenrir moaned as his prostate was played with, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.
“Imagine how good my cock will feel here,” Oberon said. “How my knot will stretch and fill you in all the right places. Do you want it, omega?”
“Yes.”
O had expected a little pushback, but he wasn’t disappointed by Fenrir’s swift confession. “Not yet. I want your knot first, remember? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
The omega was close. Just a bit more and he’d be forced to give Oberon what he wanted.
“Think of all those times you’d been left empty.
Don’t you want to know what it’s like to be fucked properly by an alpha?
I could show you. Could teach you what it truly means to be an omega owned by their alpha.
Addicted to their alpha’s cock. Should we split you open and hear you scream, precious? ”
Fenrir orgasmed, thick white ropes exploding from his tip to coat his chest. Some even splattered on his throat, though it didn’t appear as though he noticed, too busy riding the waves, arching and gasping as his hole sucked on Oberon’s fingers and his dick wept.
The knot was the least impressive thing about him, but Oberon wasn’t too disappointed.
He watched in fascination as the small bump bulged at the base of Fenrir’s cock and rolled, traveling up the shaft until it reached his crown and ballooned.
The lack of a proper mating, coupled with the fact that he hadn’t been alpha in years, most likely had something to do with the size.
“Mine’s bigger,” Oberon drawled as soon as it seemed like the omega was coming back to himself. “Can I fuck you?”
“You’re not supposed to be asking me that,” Fenrir replied, out of breath and half-dazed. His knot began to shrink, his dick softening even as his ass continued to pull on Oberon’s thrusting fingers.
“I make the rules,” O said. “I can ask whatever I want.”
“You can do to me whatever you want as well.”
“Don’t want to play anymore?” That was a pity.
“False senses of power don’t do it for me,” Fenrir started to sound more together. “You’re in control here. We both know that. Why waste energy on pretend?”
“It’s comforting to some.” Oberon’s whole life was one long, never-ending game of pretend. And he was hardly the only actor.
“Yeah, well, not to me.”
O pulled his fingers free and then reached for his fly. For a moment, the omega merely watched him, but just as he got it down and his cock started to be exposed, reality seemed to click back in place.
“Hold on.” Fenrir struggled to pull himself into a sitting position, but Oberon wouldn’t let him. “You can’t yet. The contract.”
He grinned. “I was hoping you’d forgotten.”
Fenrir glared.
“Fine, omega.” Zipping himself back up, Oberon climbed off the bed and scowled at his disheveled clothing. “We can’t go there looking like this.”
“Go where?”
“To the party.”
“The after party?” Fenrir glanced at the door.
“No,” he corrected. “The Heated Hearts party at the Evergreen.”
Before Fenrir could protest, Oberon grabbed his right ankle and dragged him down the bed. Then he leaned over him and smirked.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, sign that contract, and then get the hell out of this nightmarish hellhole.” He turned and shivered. “Fleshlights that aren’t fit for knotting. Yikes.”
If O had learned nothing else this night, it was that the Mistress of the Wardrobe was a sadistic little monster.