Chapter Five #2
Hongjoong grins around his fingers, pulls them free with a wet pop, and then bends down and bites me on the ass. His teeth sink into the meat of one cheek hard enough that I feel the bruise forming in real time, a sharp bright pain that makes me thrash and kick out at him with my heel.
“Ow! What the fuck—”
He catches my flailing leg by the ankle, laughing against my skin, and presses a kiss to the bite mark, his lips warm and soft over the throbbing indentation of his teeth.
“Okay, okay,” he murmurs against my skin. “Calm down. Let me make you feel good.”
He releases me and I push myself up, ruffled and flushed, shoving my hair out of my face.
Hongjoong maneuvers me, his hands on my shoulders guiding me to sit back against the couch properly.
He pulls my pants the rest of the way off, tugging them over my feet and tossing them onto the desk chair on top of his jacket, then pushes my shirt up my stomach and leaves it bunched under my armpits.
I glare up at him, chest heaving, my cock hard and flushed against my belly.
I forgot myself in the struggle. Slipped back into our old dynamic where we were just two friends who shoved each other around for fun, where the power difference between alpha and omega didn’t matter because Hongjoong never enforced it and I never acknowledged it.
But as his pheromones wash out deliberately now, heavy and warm and unmistakably commanding, rolling over me in a wave that makes my muscles go loose and my pulse slow, I remember where I am.
What this is. Hongjoong is the alpha. I’m the omega he’s paying for. My job is to comply.
So I let him push my knees apart, spreading my legs wide on the leather couch, my cheeks burning as Hongjoong sinks down to his knees on the office carpet between them.
I realize a half second too late what he’s about to do. “Wait—”
Hongjoong grips the base of my cock and takes it into his mouth.
My head slams back against the couch as wet heat engulfs me, Hongjoong swallowing my entire length to the back of his throat in one smooth motion, his nose pressing flat against my pelvis.
I can feel the muscles of his throat working around the head of my cock, tight and hot and slick, and my hands fly to the couch cushions on either side of me, fingers digging into the leather.
He pulls back slowly, his tongue dragging a firm line along the underside of my shaft, and then pauses with just the head between his lips.
“You sure are a convenient size,” he says conversationally, his breath warm against the wet skin of my cock.
I glare down at him through glazed eyes. “Fuck off. I’m large for an omega.”
Hongjoong grins around the head of my cock, his tongue lapping lazily at the precum beading at my slit, and says, “Whatever you say, Jae.”
I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind about the patronizing tone, but then he swallows me down again, and every thought in my head dissolves into static.
I moan, loud and unguarded, as Hongjoong bobs his head with a steady rhythm, his cheeks hollowing on each upstroke, his tongue doing something devastating along the sensitive ridge below the head that makes my thighs shake on either side of his face.
While his mouth works my cock, his fingers slide between my cheeks from below.
He doesn’t push in, not yet, just plays with my rim, rubbing slick circles around the pucker with his fingertips that make my hole clench and flutter against nothing.
The dual sensation, his mouth hot and tight on my cock and his fingers teasing my entrance, has me gripping the couch so hard the leather squeaks under my palms.
Hongjoong hollows his cheeks on a particularly hard suck, pulling me deep into his throat, and I bite down on my lower lip trying to hold still, trying not to buck up into his mouth.
Then his fingers push into my hole without warning, two at once, curling directly against my prostate with unerring accuracy, and I come with a sharp cry.
My cock pulses against Hongjoong’s tongue, spilling into his mouth in hot spurts, my hole clamping around his fingers as my entire body locks up and shakes.
I look down in slight panic as the aftershocks roll through me, my chest heaving, because most alphas don’t tolerate omegas coming in their mouths.
I’ve been backhanded for less. One client split my lip open and made me clean the carpet on my hands and knees afterward.
The flinch is automatic, my shoulders drawing up, my body bracing for the hit.
But Hongjoong only looks delighted. His cheeks are full, and when he pulls off my softening cock it’s with a satisfied sound, like he just finished a meal he enjoyed.
He wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb, then stands, grips my hips, and flips me with a strength that still catches me off guard every time.
I go face-down into the couch cushions again, feet on the floor, my hips yanked up and back so my ass is presented to him.
I hear the rustle of Hongjoong undoing his own pants behind me, the clink of his belt, the slide of fabric. Then he leans down over me, his bare chest warm against my back.
I look back over my shoulder and watch as Hongjoong opens his mouth and lets my own cum dribble from his lips onto my hole.
It falls in a slow, warm string, landing on my rim and sliding down over the pucker, mixing with the slick already gathered there.
My face burns so hot I’m surprised the leather doesn’t scorch beneath my cheek.
Hongjoong grips his cock and rubs the head through the mess, smearing cum and slick together until everything is wet and filthy, and then he pushes in.
One long, relentless thrust that doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the root, his hips flush against my ass, his cock so deep inside me that I can feel the pressure all the way up behind my navel.
He grins down at me, that dimple cutting deep into his cheek, and says, “So that’s how it is, huh? You can only cum from the back? What a good little omega.”
I cry out as he grinds against my prostate but still manage to glare over my shoulder at him.
“Stop fucking teasing me, I can obviously cum from the front—” An involuntary moan cuts me off as he rolls his hips again, pressing the head of his cock right against that spot that makes my vision blur.
I swallow hard and continue breathlessly, “—it just takes longer.”
Hongjoong leans forward and nips at my shoulder, his teeth sharp through the bunched fabric of my shirt. “How is it,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice low and wondering, “that you taste good from the front and the back?”
“Because you’re a pervert,” I groan into the cushion.
He rumbles a laugh against my back, the vibration traveling through my ribs, and then he grips my hips with both hands, pulls them up higher, and starts to fuck me properly.
Each thrust slams deep enough that I can feel the head of his cock kissing the entrance to my womb, that devastating depth that only Hongjoong reaches, the place no other alpha has ever been able to touch no matter their size.
My body knows him there. Recognizes him in some deep biological way that makes everything tighten and pulse and open wider for him, slick pouring out of me in a rush that makes the sounds between us wet and loud.
I come again from it, clenching and shaking, my cock dripping onto the leather couch below me as Hongjoong fucks me through the contractions without slowing down.
Hongjoong follows with a groan that rumbles through his whole chest, his knot swelling at the base and catching on my rim before locking inside me with a stretch that makes me sob into the cushion.
His cock pulses deep, filling me in hot waves as we both collapse forward, his weight settling heavy over my back, pressing me flat into the couch.
We lie there panting, still locked together, the office silent except for our breathing.
Then Hongjoong reaches over the side of the couch to where his pants landed on the floor and fishes around in the pocket until he comes up with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
He puts one between his teeth, flicks the lighter, and inhales, the cherry glowing orange in my peripheral vision.
Then he looks down at me pinned beneath him and asks through a mouthful of smoke, “Want one?”
I hold a hand up blindly without lifting my face from the cushion. He places a cigarette between my fingers and leans down, cupping the flame as he lights it for me. I take a drag without changing position, exhaling sideways so the smoke doesn’t pool against the leather.
We smoke in silence for a while, still knotted, Hongjoong’s weight warm and solid on my back.
It should be uncomfortable but it isn’t.
His heartbeat is slowing against my shoulder blade, steady and even, and his thumb is rubbing an absent circle against my hip bone that I don’t think he’s aware he’s doing.
I eventually turn my head to the side to exhale properly and ask mildly, “Should we even be smoking in here? Whose office is this anyway?”
“My team manager’s,” Hongjoong says, tapping ash into what I sincerely hope is a cup and not directly onto the carpet. “It’s fine. He won’t mind.”
“Where did everyone go?”
He shrugs against my back, the movement shifting his cock inside me and making me hiss. “Left for the day. Which means we have all afternoon.”
I open my mouth to respond to that, to point out that I still need to go back to the grocery store and replace the cart I abandoned, that Sungyoon needs dinner ingredients and I have laundry in the machine at home that’s going to smell like mildew if I don’t move it to the dryer soon.
But before I can get a single word out, Hongjoong’s knot has barely deflated enough he grips my hips and starts rocking into me again, still half-hard and thickening fast inside my swollen hole.