Chapter 11 #2
The next moment, a sharp tear cut through the air.
Hayce yanked Ehlian’s shirt over his head in one swift motion and tossed it aside carelessly, leaving the bare skin beneath exposed to the cool air.
And then Hayce’s hands were everywhere, gliding over Ehlian’s sensitive, heated skin, leaving sparks in their wake.
Ehlian couldn’t ignore the slick wetness between his cheeks, clinging to his inner thighs as he ground himself against Hayce’s fully hard cock, circling his hips in slow, deliberate motions. But the enticing circles was cut short when Hayce’s hands gripped firmly at the soft flesh of his hips.
Without a word, Hayce began guiding him forward.
Ehlian stumbled slightly, his weak legs struggling to match the pace of Hayce’s steps until his knees bumped against the edge of the bed and he fell forward, catching himself on his palms. The chill of the sheets was a welcome contrast to the heat coursing through Ehlian’s body, grounding him for just a moment.
He gasped when Hayce yanked down his trousers, the sudden rush of cool air making the wetness between his cheeks feel even more intense. A finger glided across his aching hole, and Ehlian couldn’t hold it back—a loud, wanton moan escaped his lips, echoing through the cell.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Hayce whispered hotly against his neck. “Let him hear you.”
Ehlian’s face burned with embarrassment and desire, the two emotions intertwining in a strange push and pull. But the humiliation quickly morphed into something far sharper: glee. Revenge. He wanted Grasson to hear, to know with absolute certainty that Ehlian was utterly out of reach.
His next whine was even louder when Hayce pushed a single finger inside him.
Every dormant nerve along his channel jolted awake.
Hayce dragged the finger in and out in cruelly slow strokes, then pulled it out, circling the rim of Ehlian’s pulsing hole with maddening laziness.
It went on like this for what felt like an eternity—Hayce teasing him, dipping inside just long enough to set his nerves ablaze, only to retreat again and again.
Ehlian thought he might lose his goddamn mind.
Hayce’s finger retreated once more, but this time, it didn’t return.
Ehlian’s ragged breathing filled the silence, broken only by the faint rustle of clothes.
A pause stretched between them—and then the blunt head of Hayce’s cock slid slowly between his cheeks, dipping deep into the crease.
It dragged along his fluttering entrance, back and forth, the slide almost ruthless, giving him something, giving him almost nothing.
Ehlian instinctively pushed back, matching the teasing, maddening rhythm. Both of them groaned as Hayce’s cock caught on Ehlian’s hole, a desperate please rolling off Ehlian’s tongue.
Hayce stilled, grip tightening on Ehlian’s hips, then with a slow, relentless push, slid inside to the hilt.
“Fuck,” Ehlian exhaled against the sheet, his breath so heated it seemed to fog the air before him. His toes curled when Hayce began to move, and his moans slipped soundlessly from his mouth, his lips parting around a silent O. He was overwhelmed by pleasure. Gods, he filled him so well.
Hayce’s firm hands guided Ehlian’s hips, setting the pace, picking it up, faster and deeper. Obscene, wet sounds filled the air as his cock slid inside Ehlian’s slick, heated entrance over and over again.
“You think I’d have given you to him?” Hayce’s breath burned Ehlian’s nape, his voice dark as he pressed deeper and deeper. “He doesn’t deserve so much as a glance at you.”
Mind clouded with desire, Ehlian lost all rational thought. “Make him transfer to another prison.”
Hayce peppered a few feather-light kisses along the curve of his neck, lingering near his bond point. “You think I’m that powerful?”
“Yes.”
“There are limits, Ehlian,” Hayce murmured, his lips brushing dangerously close to Ehlian’s bond point, and Ehlian almost wished he would touch it. “But he knows mine. He’ll never lay a hand on you.”
Ehlian maybe responded, maybe he didn’t. Each thrust pressed his chest harder against the sheets, which were no longer cold but burning hot from his heated skin. His unstoppable and loud moans spilled into the air, carrying through the cell and faintly echoing beyond the barred window in the door.
“Please let me touch myself.” Ehlian’s voice was barely a whisper above the loud slaps filling the cell.
His mind and body craved a knot, strong, tight, throbbing. But giving in to that temptation would be dangerous and insanely reckless. That was a line he shouldn’t ever cross. Not with Hayce.
“Please…” he sobbed again, every slide of Hayce’s cock driving him insane with lust, pushing him closer to climax. His own cock ached, the tip just skimming against the sheet, not nearly enough.
His breath hitched when his hand moved under Hayce’s will, lifting from the sheet where he had been clutching it. Hayce’s precise control guided his palm around his cock, just hovering, not touching—then closing around it.
Ehlian gasped, sobbing with relief. The grip wasn’t tight enough.
He needed more, needed—then his hand began to move in a steady rhythm, sliding up and down his hard length.
Gods, it felt like Hayce was touching him.
And in a way, he was. Every movement, every little pause, every shift in pace was controlled by Hayce’s power, pleasuring him exactly as he wanted.
The strokes grew faster and faster, Ehlian’s grip tightening—just one more, just one more, just one more—then his orgasm tore through him with blinding force, leaving him trembling in its wake.
As though waiting for that very moment, Hayce followed only a few thrusts later, his fingertips sinking deep into Ehlian’s hips.
Ehlian collapsed onto the bed, a breathless fuck slipping past his lips.
Hayce swept Ehlian’s damp hair away from his neck, his thumb stroking over the mark he had etched there. “This will do.”
Ehlian hummed, an unpleasant shiver running through his body when Hayce lifted himself, carrying his warmth with him.
“Cold,” he murmured.
Soon a blanket was draped over him, or maybe it was an arm, or a chest, or both. He wasn’t sure. He was already drifting into sleep.
*
Grasson’s disappointment hung thick in the air the next day. As he stared at the purplish mark on Ehlian’s neck, the flame of greed and lust finally died out in his eyes.
One threat was out, but the other, more dangerous threat was right next to him in the lounge, in the showers, in the cell, in bed. All day, all night. At this point, it was needless to deny how much he was attracted to Hayce, but that was his limit and he had no intention to stretch and widen it.
Like every Arox omega and alpha, he was blessed with accelerated recovery, and the faint purplish mark on his neck was gone completely in two days.
Hayce seemed to take that as a personal offence.
Every night, Ehlian’s hands gripped the sheet, the edge of the bar, or the cold window as Hayce peppered kisses and bites across his skin, licking, pulling, scraping over the new marks he left behind.
It was just sex.
And it wouldn’t ever be more.
He and Hayce simply didn’t… fit.
They would part one day and Ehlian wouldn’t shed a tear over it.