Chapter 18
PAINT ME LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH OMEGAS
“Fuck,” Hades hissed, his knuckles going white against the steering wheel.
Quick as anything, he thumbed the buttons to lower the driver’s side window, as well as the window behind Aaren.
“So I won’t breathe in your heat musk,” Hades explained. “I don’t want to go into rut right here, not this soon.”
Aaren’s heart missed a beat. Alphas only went into rut with omegas they cared about. “You would go into rut for me?”
“Sweetheart.” Hades’ eyes darkened. He reached over the center console and held Aaren’s hand. “Yes.”
Aaren blushed. Hades swore and yanked his gaze away.
“Sorry,” the alpha muttered. “If I look at you any longer, I won’t stop. Or I might climb over and start tasting you.”
“There isn’t enough space for that,” Aaren agreed.
Hades grinned and drove them out of the mall parking lot, toward home.
Actually, Aaren wasn’t sure how the drive was.
He had twisted around in his seat to feast his eyes on Hades—the way Hades’ shirt clung to his pecs and biceps, the way his arms were tense, tendons standing out on his forearms, his grip tight on the steering wheel.
“Do you ever hold yourself that tightly?” Aaren blurted. “Would it hurt your cock?”
“Only when I need to stop myself from coming,” Hades muttered, shifting in his seat. “It’s... not helping that you’re thinking about my cock right now. Wait ‘til we get home?”
Aaren swallowed. “Okay.”
He clutched the fancy paper bag on his lap, trying not to notice the growing heat in his body. Already, desire was trickling through his veins, making him feel heavy and slow. His bones and teeth ached. He was growing wetter between his legs, his cock swelling, his balls pulling tight.
Hades’ lap looked amazing. His pants clung to his thick, muscular thighs, and the solid length stuffed down one pant leg... Its wet spot had grown, with a trail leading south because Hades was still dripping precome, and it was trickling down his thigh to pool where his leg met the seat.
“You’re—” Aaren stuffed his hands against his mouth.
At a stoplight, Hades glanced over. “I’m...?”
“You’re wet,” Aaren croaked.
Hades drew a shuddering breath, held it, and slowly blew it out. “It’s a good thing I’m not in rut yet, or there will be public indecency charges.”
“For what?”
“I would haul you over here and make you suck my cock, sweetheart.”
Aaren whimpered, his slick soaking through his pants. He could already taste the salt of Hades’ precome; he could already feel that velvety blunt tip against his tongue. “Please get us home.”
“That’s what I’m doing right now.”
The cross-breeze through the car must’ve helped Hades keep in control. He pulled into the driveway and cut the engine; Aaren fumbled his seatbelt off and reached over, closing his fingers around Hades’ hot bulge.
Hades snarled, his hips jerking up, his cock pulsing against Aaren’s fingers. “Inside,” Hades growled, his voice raking down Aaren’s spine, going straight to his cock. “Get in and strip.”
Then he closed his strong fist around Aaren’s wrist and tugged his hand off his bulge. Aaren whined.
“The sooner you’re a good omega for me, the sooner you’ll be stuffed full of cock,” Hades promised.
Aaren got out of the car so quickly, it was a miracle he didn’t trip and fall flat on his face.
Hades laughed quietly behind him. He rolled up the windows and locked the car, following Aaren to the front door.
Hades had the key; he pressed up against Aaren, shoving him forward and crushing the paper bag between Aaren and the door.
Aaren couldn’t help squirming, grinding his entire body against his alpha like a cat.
“Fuck,” Hades hissed. He held Aaren in place and rolled his hips once, dragging that thick length against the small of Aaren’s back. “You said your heat was due next week.”
“M-Maybe you triggered it. You’ve been feeding me so much cock.” Aaren squirmed around to face his alpha, grabbing his bulge. Hades swore.
Then the door opened, and Hades caught Aaren’s hands, pulling them off his wet tip. “Get in and strip.”
Aaren was obeying even before the door closed.
In no time at all, he was naked, slick trickling down his damp thighs, his skin so sensitive that even a brush of Hades’ arm made him shiver.
Hades locked the door and kicked off his shoes.
He strode to one of the other rooms that Aaren hadn’t paid attention to before.
It was a home office, Aaren realized. There was a desk with a huge computer screen, flanked by a bookcase and a printer. In another corner of the room was an easel, a drafting desk, and several sketchbooks and art supplies on some shelves.
“Here, give me the panties. I’ll cut the tags off.”
Aaren handed over the crumpled bag, watching as Hades grabbed a pair of scissors and slowly, carefully, removed the tags.
“Which do you want to wear first?”
“Um.” Aaren tried to think. The ache between his legs made thinking difficult. He wanted to be held down and stuffed. But they were in a safe place, and Hades was going to fuck him soon. He could wait a little longer. “Less access first? We can switch to something with more... accessibility later.”
Hades groaned, palming his bulge. “I like the way you think.”
He handed Aaren the wine-red panties with the pearls. Aaren leaned against the desk and pulled them on.
In their hurry to leave Rosy’s Intimates, Tripp had not taken the time to redo all the open pearl buttons on the panties. When Aaren pulled them on, the panties gaped open. His cock and balls spilled out, at the same time cool air slipped into the rear opening and teased his cheeks.
“Mmm.” Hades’ breath rushed out. He stepped closer and cupped Aaren’s cock and balls, carefully tucking them back into his panties. Aaren couldn’t help but moan, his precome shooting all over Hades’ hand. “Yes,” Hades growled, squeezing him lightly. “Now, stay still.”
Slowly, Hades buttoned the panties back up. His fingers dipped inside and slid against Aaren’s cock as he wrangled the pearls back through their elastic loops. Aaren almost came; the light touches were driving him wild.
Finally, the buttons were back in place, red lace stretched over Aaren’s stiff bulge. The panties fit him perfectly, soft fabric hugging his cock and balls. Aaren was certain that his slick was dripping out through the opening at the back.
“H-How do I look?” he whimpered. He was suddenly aware of all his bare skin. The panties were a contrast: so delicate on him, wrapped around his most sensitive parts.
“So beautiful,” Hades growled, tugging on the lace so Aaren felt a sudden pressure against his balls. “Turn around and let me see.”
Aaren turned, and Hades inhaled sharply. “You’re leaking so much slick, sweetheart.”
He cupped Aaren’s ass and slid his fingers through the rear opening, dipping them between Aaren’s slippery asscheeks.
“Fuck,” Hades hissed, yanking his hand back. “I need to get things started, or I’ll go into rut right here and have you pinned on the floor before you know it.”
“But that means your cock would be inside me,” Aaren whimpered. “I want your cock.”
Hades’ breathing went ragged. He turned Aaren back around and tipped his face up, kissing him deeply. “I want you to go into my bedroom and sit in the middle of my bed. Lean back on your arms, bend your legs and spread them wide, like you’re trying to tempt me closer.”
Aaren throbbed. “Y-Yes, alpha.”
Hades’ hands trembled. “Go.”
He swatted Aaren’s ass; Aaren squeaked and hurried to the bedroom.
Hades came in a minute later with an easel and a stool. He went back out and returned with a palette, canvases, and brushes.
“Can you paint while you’re rock-hard?” Aaren blurted, curling his toes into the soft bedspread.
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
Hades drew the curtains to let daylight flood the bedroom. He opened the windows too, bringing a standing fan over to blow the air out through the window.
“To redirect your heat scent,” Hades murmured. “I’m already so fucking hard, and we haven’t even started.”
He set up his painting supplies. Then he swept his gaze over Aaren, lighting up every inch of Aaren’s skin.
Aaren’s body was starting to ache without his alpha inside him. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold still, with Hades’ bulge right there in full view, his wet spot larger than before. “This feels like torture.”
“Let me get your shape on my canvas,” Hades said, his voice gravelly.
“I could get my canvas on your big, hard paintbrush,” Aaren said. And winced. “That sounded horrible.”
Hades coughed. “My brush certainly... paints.”
“It only paints white,” Aaren’s mouth blurted. “Maybe you need to add colors to it.”
Hades laughed. Instead of positioning his easel in the corner of the room, Hades had set it up just two feet away from the bed. So he could see all of Aaren from up close. He began to paint.
For a while, all Aaren heard was the sound of brushstrokes on canvas.
He looked down at himself, trying to imagine what Hades was seeing.
His belly and thick thighs? His red panties with a wet spot around his ass?
He leaked onto the bed, squirming when his ass ached harder.
He needed Hades to hold him down, he needed Hades to push that big cock inside and pound so hard that he screamed.
“Hades,” Aaren whimpered.
“I’m painting the lines of your body,” Hades murmured. “Your shoulders, your arms.” Some long brushstrokes. “Your chest, and your beautiful spread legs, open just for me.”
“Are you going to paint my hole?”
Hades shivered. “It’s hidden in this position. Probably for the best, or I’ll be—” he groaned “—I’ll be on you right this second, holding you open and pounding in.”