Chapter 17 Chase
Chase
Letting himself into Killian’s house was the first time Chase had used his key, and the act felt … significant. But that was probably just Chase’s nerves talking.
He hadn’t been sure, with Killian’s first two messages, if it had only been Killian acting especially bossy and demanding.
Come here.
Come now.
But then the third message had made it perfectly clear.
Rut.
Chase had showered quicker than he ever had in his life—he’d been at school all day, and he had a feeling the scents of the other students would bother Killian in his current state—and then he’d rushed over.
Killian’s house was quiet as Chase stepped inside. Unnervingly so, despite relative silence being the norm in Killian’s neatly ordered world. But there was pressure in the air now, something taut and heavy.
“Hello?” Chase called, closing the door carefully behind him. “Killian?”
He’d known Killian could be silent on his feet when he wasn’t wearing his fancy dress shoes, but Chase hadn’t realized how silent until Killian was just … there. In the hallway, facing Chase.
Completely naked.
And … damn. Chase had thought in the past months that he’d adjusted to the animal magnetism of this alpha. They’d fucked hundreds of times at this point, after all. Chase had seen Killian in every stage of undress and vice versa.
But yeah … none of that compared to a naked, horny Killian in all his rut-induced glory.
His pheromones were like a dark fog rolling in, potent enough that, even as a beta, they made Chase’s head spin. Killian was standing ramrod straight, his massive, hard cock bobbing in the air in a way that maybe should have been ridiculous, except for the look in his eyes …
No one had ever looked at Chase like that. Like he was sex incarnate. Like he was prey. Like he was everything.
Chase set his bag on the floor, some subconscious warning reminding him to make his movements slow and easy.
“Hello, Alpha,” he said, calm and even as he could. “How are you feeling?”
Killian cocked his head. His hands clenched into fists and then unclenched again. “Beta,” he eventually ground out, his voice so deep and rough that Chase had trouble distinguishing the word.
Chase stayed where he was, locked in a moment of uncertainty. Was that supposed to mean something in particular? Was Killian … disappointed? Had he forgotten that the person he’d asked for wasn’t an omega?
“That’s right,” Chase said after a moment. He swallowed hard and forced himself to ask. “I’m a beta. Do you still want me to stay? Or I could—”
There was a blur of movement, and then somewhere around two hundred pounds of alpha muscle was hurtling straight toward him.
Holy shit. Maybe Killian was pissed. Maybe Chase was about to be knocked on his ass for the presumption of his arrival.
Before Chase could even brace himself properly, he found himself upside down and staring at an impressive pair of bare, muscled butt cheeks flexing as they moved.
For a professor, Killian really did have an insanely nice ass.
And Chase was getting up close and personal with it because Killian had apparently thrown Chase over his shoulder, and he was taking him in the direction of the bedroom with long, decisive strides.
So Chase was staying. Good to know.
It wasn’t long before Chase was dropped to his feet near the foot of the bed. And then Killian was stripping off Chase’s clothes, muttering something under his breath. It almost sounded like he was saying the word gentle over and over.
If so, he was maybe missing the mark a little—Chase’s shirt definitely ripped in like three different places as Killian tore it off him—but Killian did seem to be trying to keep himself contained, his movements jerky with the effort.
He was also emitting an insane amount of heat, pressed against Chase’s back as he tugged Chase’s jeans down, and Chase was glad to be rid of his clothes. He was going to be a sweaty mess in no time with a living furnace like this rubbing against him.
Chase’s underwear was the last to go, and Killian held them up, sniffed them, and tossed them on the bed, where Chase now realized there was a pile of blankets and clothes spread over the covers.
Chase stood there for a second, staring at that pile as Killian huffed and grunted behind him. It was kind of odd to see such a mess in Killian’s space, which was usually so neat and clean. Chase’s underwear didn’t seem to be the only preworn piece of clothing in the bunch either.
Killian stayed where he was as well—pressed close to Chase’s back—but he was anything but still.
His hands kept stroking and touching bits of Chase’s skin, and he kept nuzzling his head into the back of Chase’s neck and shoulders.
Scent marking him with impatient grunts as he slid his hard cock up and down between Chase’s cheeks, like he couldn’t help himself from rutting a little.
But he didn’t try to shove that big dick inside him, and he wasn’t tugging Chase onto the bed and mounting him, so Killian had to be at least a little bit self-aware.
Chase turned his head to check in with him, and there was Killian’s handsome face right there, his pupils blown so wide his blue eyes looked completely black.
“Is that—”
Chase wasn’t able to finish his question because Killian promptly shoved his tongue in Chase’s mouth, kissing him furiously with no preamble, apparently fucking starving for it.
His arms wrapped around Chase’s middle, and he lifted Chase onto his tiptoes, like he needed Chase’s mouth as close to his as physically possible.
Like even the few inches of difference in height between them wasn’t allowed.
Chase was panting by the time Killian backed off to nuzzle at his shoulder again.
Panting and hard. So fucking hard. It didn’t seem to matter that the kiss had been sloppy and desperate and nowhere near as artful as what Killian usually had to offer.
Chase had been hard since the moment Killian had appeared in the hallway, his pheromones so dark and rich they were like molasses moving through Chase’s lungs.
And if Chase were an omega, he had no doubt he’d be gushing slick every-fucking-where right about now.
It took Chase a minute to remember what he’d been trying to ask, what with Killian’s hands roaming all over his body again, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“Is that for my nest?” Chase managed to get out this time.
Killian made a vague, grunting sound of affirmation, nudging his nose against Chase’s jaw.
“Killian, I don’t—I’m a beta,” Chase reminded him.
Killian made a wounded noise, and Chase tried to figure out how to navigate this.
Apparently it was important to Killian that Chase make a nest, but Chase was a beta, and betas didn’t nest. They didn’t have the nose for it, and given that Killian did, Chase had a feeling that some half-assed pretending wasn’t going to work. Not with Killian already this worked up.
Chase set his hand over Killian’s, where it was currently tracing patterns on Chase’s lower belly, stilling it for the moment. “Alpha, will you do it for me?” he asked. “Will you build me a nest?”
Chase held his breath as Killian growled, pressing his cock harder against Chase’s crease, the slippery head catching at Chase’s rim as Killian ground against him.
And then Killian was moving away to the bed, where he immediately began to rearrange the messy pile.
Chase let out a sigh of relief. That seemed to be a compromise rut-Killian was amenable to.
It was also a tempting bit of eye candy, actually, watching a naked Killian bend and growl and sniff as he worked.
But Chase only made the mistake of touching his own cock once, and Killian turned around immediately—like he had some sort of sixth sense surrounding Chase’s arousal—and growled at him so fiercely that Chase didn’t try again.
No touching. Got it.
Eventually Killian let out a satisfied grunt and stood at the side of the bed, presenting the nest to Chase.
It was mostly flat, with the blankets forming the lower layers and what looked to be Killian’s worn clothes forming the top.
Which Chase supposed made sense, because Chase would basically be rolling in Killian’s scent, those dirty clothes covering whatever bits Killian’s hands missed when it came to scent marking him.
Chase didn’t know what to do or say, so he nodded. “Very nice.”
Killian puffed up with pride—and fuck, why was that the most adorable thing Chase had ever seen?—and then he grabbed Chase and plopped him on top of the nest, pressing down on Chase’s chest until he was flat on his back.
And then Killian scent marked the ever-living shit out of him.
Killian had always been especially hot on the idea of Chase smelling like him, and Chase had thought he’d already gotten the Extreme Scenting Treatment from him, but this was another level.
Not a millimeter of Chase’s skin was spared.
Killian paid special attention to his neck and groin, of course, but he also covered Chase’s armpits, and the insides of his elbows, and the dip of his belly button.
And it turned out it was a special kind of torture to have Killian rubbing his cheeks and hands all over Chase’s dick without actually putting any pressure or friction on it.
Does my cock really have to be scent marked? Chase wanted to ask. When we already know you’re going to have your hands and mouth all over it?
He held his tongue. He wasn’t going to provoke an alpha in rut over unimportant shit, like the fact that Chase might cry if he didn’t come soon.
And then Killian flipped Chase over and did it all again on the other side.
By the time lubed fingers pressed to Chase’s crease, Chase was a strange mix of pliant and overstimulated. His cock was dribbling precum all over the nest, and all he could think about was getting fucked. Fucked hard and fucked fast.
And he really thought he would be too. Really thought the prep would be rushed and insufficient and possibly a little painful, given Killian’s state of mind.