Chapter Sixteen Grayson
Grayson
Grayson presented when he was fifteen, and it went just about as badly as you’d think.
It had been during spring break, and his parents had been out at work. He’d woken to fire burning outward in every direction from his core in never-ending waves. His own fresh, child-like scent gave way to the smell of the herbs his father kept in pots in the kitchen window. His vision oscillated between blurry to so sharp he could see the fibers from his shredded Marvel Universe pillow, the soft fill sticking to his sweaty skin. Gums throbbing and head pounding, he’d vomited at the overload to his new senses before passing out.
He’d woken the second time not much later and crawled to the bathroom. He didn’t know what was wrong, nor did he have the clarity to call his parents. The gender studies at school hadn’t yet covered presentation in the curriculum and wouldn’t for four more years. The minute he made it into the bathroom, he’d blacked out for a second time, cracking his head open on the toilet. He had woken up in a rut room of the hospital a week later, confused and missing the rest of his vacation.
And now the fire was back.
Every cell in his body was burning, but at least now he knew what was happening.
A decade hasn’t changed much because the rut room smells the same: stale, antiseptic, and—to Grayson’s enigma nose—vaguely like the last alpha who’d suffered here.
Where is his pack? He never goes through a rut alone now, and he howls in frustration. A door opens in the corner of the room, and he recognizes his mate. Gideon. Yes, he wants Gideon. Needs him.
Gorgeous Gideon with his thick thighs and sharp tongue. Gideon is moving too slowly, and the wolf is frustrated with the delay. But when he lifts his arms from the bed, he meets with resistance; leather cuffs are attached to both his arms and his legs and lead down to heavy steel chains. Why is he strapped down? His wolf slams against the mental cage Grayson keeps him in, and he howls again at this impertinence.
“Ah. There you are.” Gideon has on a robe, and his hair is wet and pushed back off his face. Handsome . The scent of a summer storm and what smells like vanilla lube billows into the room along with the steam from his shower, and Grayson raises his nose to better catch the scent. It goes right to his cock, already hard and leaking.
“Come,” he growls, pulling at his bonds. Gideon glides toward him, sinuous and still too slow for Grayson’s comfort. He wants Gideon under him now. The pain in his belly surges, and Grayson thrashes against his bonds.
Seeing that Grayson’s bonds are holding, Gideon places a cool hand on his forehead. “Don’t be rude, Gray. I know rebound ruts suck ass, and we’ve already had to put you down twice with ketamine. Not sure what’s got into you, but alpha is being most unreasonable,” he teases.
The change in the atmosphere is immediate, and suddenly, Grayson remembers. Flashes of Nix slip through his mind: beautiful, vanilla-scented Nix, and he wants him now. “Untie me,” he says, putting a bit of a push into his voice. If he’d been in his right mind, he would remember what a terrible thing it was; but he is beyond caring.
Gideon quickly grabs his jaw, forcing his mouth open so Grayson feels a stream of drool slide from the side of his mouth. “You’re being a bad boy.” Gideon is in his element, the scent of his arousal so rich it’s like lightning in the small room.
He is enjoying having Grayson at his mercy, and, as thrilling as that usually is, Grayson’s wolf is having none of it. Lightning fast, he snaps his teeth. Gideon pulls his hand away just in time, but Grayson still manages to graze Gideon’s finger with a sharp fang.
“I will muzzle you,” Gideon warns with a light pat on his cheek.
Even though it’s dripping blood, Gideon moves his finger to trace a line from Grayson’s collarbone down his sternum and over to his right nipple. The other is pierced, and Gideon gives it a hard tug with his other hand. The pleasure-pain is perfect. He has come more than once after a period of abstinence just by having his nipples stimulated. But never during a rut, as it’s as much an exercise in mental stimulation as it is physical, and his mental faculties are not available for that kind of play today. His hips buck up, so Gideon does it again. The pain, combined with the scents of blood and Gideon’s arousal, only add fuel to the fire.
And it’s the last straw.
The wolf roars, and with little effort, Grayson pulls the chains right out of the steel fastener embedded into the concrete wall. There is an almighty crash as the chain swings free, the momentum cracking the interior window’s glass. The wolf has a hold of his prey in a second, grabbing Gideon’s hair and forcing his head down onto the side of the bed.
The security door beeps to admit reinforcements, but his mate shouts, “Stop! Don’t come in. I’m alright!”
Growling, Grayson tries to crouch on the bed but is frustrated that his feet are still tethered. The restraints are designed to hold an alpha in rut, but Grayson’s wolf is an enigma, and the second set of chains breaks one after the other. The only sound in the room is their breathing as Gideon trembles, his stormy scent blooming into heavy arousal.
Mate.
He’s no longer holding Gideon by the hair, but his mate remains frozen, bent over the bed. Grayson hauls him onto the bed and puts him flat on his belly, pulling his ass up. He’s rewarded for his show of strength with a moan.
The wolf takes offense at the robe covering his prize, so he rips it and cleans it down the middle. Tossing it off to the side, he takes a moment to appreciate that Gideon’s ass is a thing of beauty; he takes two handfuls and squeezes hard just to hear him whimper.
“Goddess, Gray. Fuck.” Spreading Gideon’s cheeks, he sees his hole is already pink and glistening. Grayson knows immediately that he didn’t put it there. It fuels his anger that another wolf has been at his mate before him.
Circling his mate’s hole with his finger, he gets another whiff of sweet vanilla. He wants the taste of him in his mouth and licks a stripe with the flat of his tongue from Gideon’s balls to his hole.
The cloying taste of artificial vanilla clings to his tongue, a poor imitation of what he craves, and it only fuels the wolf’s anger. It’s not Nix’s sweet, rich bakery vanilla nor the electric tang of a summer storm. His alpha growls at the deception, wiping his face against his arm as his mate bucks and wiggles beneath him, desperate to get Grayson’s attention back on track.
Grayson gathers saliva in his mouth, spitting directly onto his mate’s hole, determined to replace the false taste with something real.
“Oh fuck, yes. Please,” Gideon moans.
Pinching the inside of his mate’s thigh, he stills. Seeing his mate still so eager, he wastes no time sliding two fingers past his rim, his spit chasing away the artificial taste with something warm and real.
Gideon arches into the touch, a moan spilling from his lips like a melody drawn from deep within. “Alpha.”
With rut hormones blazing through him like wildfire, Grayson’s cock is a swollen purple, hard as stone; his knot is already swollen and aching. There’s no time for teasing or torment now. Pulling his fingers free, he grips his mate’s cheeks and spreads them wide, running the flat of his tongue from his taint to his tailbone in slow, hungry strokes, over and over.
He hums low in his chest, pressing his tongue deeper as he chases his mate’s rain-and-petrichor scent, desperate to drown himself in it.
Gideon pants and groans, his hands gripping the bed sheets hard. Grayson reaches under him, squeezing Gideon’s knot hard just once, causing him to moan again, long and loud. The wolf really likes that, so he does it again. “Going to make me come, Alpha.”
If their positions were reversed, and if Gideon were in charge, there would be teasing; but Grayson has never gotten off on edging anyone but himself, and he is suddenly desperate to fuck.
Why isn’t he doing it already?
He sets his gaze on the back of his mate’s unmarred neck; he wants to bite there, scruff his mate, and force him to take everything Grayson has to give; hard and fast. The sweat gathers on his face and is running down his chest. He lies on Gideon’s smooth back to feel the slide of skin on skin and slips his cock right between his legs, head catching on his entrance, then pushing up under Gideon’s balls. It sends shooting sparks of pleasure through his cock, and the wolf repeats it a few times just to hear his mate’s breath catch as he begs. “Fuck me, Alpha. Fuck me.”
Grayson puts his mouth near Gideon’s ear, and despite the wolf’s urging to just fuck in already, he finds it in himself to stop. “Gideon.”
Gideon knows what he needs to hear. “I mean it. Fucking do it, Alpha. Come on. Waited too long already.”
On the next slide forward, he grabs Gideon’s hips, slamming home as his mate shouts.
When Grayson’s fully seated, he hears a faint, “Fuck—so full.”
Pulling his mate toward him every time he thrusts, Grayson wastes no time in building up a brutal rhythm. Changing the angle slightly so he can hit his mate’s prostate, he’s balls-deep with every thrust, and it’s still not deep enough. Gideon is hot and tight around him; he’s not going to last long. His knot is already catching every time he stops his rhythm to grind against Gideon’s rim.
His mate’s hand moves to his to touch his cock, and Grayson growls out, “No,” and just fucks in harder, feeling Gideon clench every time he hits his prostate. “Mine.”
Sitting on his heels, Grayson pulls Gideon up so he’s sitting, his ass resting in Grayson’s lap, pushing his cock in impossibly deeper. The other alpha is uncharacteristically passive, lax against Grayson’s chest. The wolf puts his teeth into the side of his mate’s neck and gnaws until Gideon moans. There’s a strong hand in his hair as his mate presses his teeth in deeper.
“Come on my cock, Gid. Come for me, just like this.” He runs his hand around the front of Gideon’s throat, pressing his fingers and thumb into the side of his throat.
Gasping, Gideon moans, “Harder, Alpha, I’m going to come. Fuck.” In seconds, he shouts, clenching hot and hard.
Grayson reaches down, milking his mate’s knot, working him through his orgasm. Alphas weren’t built to take a knot easily, but Gideon had never backed down from a challenge and had once taken four in a row to prove a point. So, with no worry about hurting him, Grayson lifts his temporarily docile mate and slams his knot home.
“Come, Alpha. Come. Fuck, so good.” He bears down weakly, and Grayson comes with a shout as wave after wave of intense pleasure rocks him to his core. His belly muscles cramp, and his knot pulses with his heartbeat. It’s so overwhelming that his vision gets gray around the edges.
Unable to hold himself or Gideon upright any longer, he lets their bodies collapse to the side.
Gideon brings Grayson’s hand—with the cuff and chain still attached—over his come-streaked belly, and Grayson comes again when he can feel the head of his cock poking his palm from the inside. Shivering and content for the moment, Grayson breathes in the scent of his satisfied mate.
“We are so doing that again, holy fuck,” Gideon sighs.
Mindful of the chain still attached to his wrist, he curls his hand around Gideon’s knot and squeezes. Remind him who’s in charge for the time being. Gideon gives a manly squeak and clenches. “Sensitive!”
“Maybe next, we can do it without the c-cuffs?” Grayson presses kisses that spot on the back of Gideon’s neck, shuddering through yet another orgasm.
“We are going to be stuck together for a while at this rate. Do you feel better, though? For the time being?” He turns so he can catch Grayson’s jaw in a kiss.
He feels good, a bit more lucid. But he knows it won’t last; ruts are fickle, and he could feel the heat rising in him again. “Yeah. But, Gid?” He rests his head on the back of Gideon’s neck, feeling him clench every few minutes just to feel his knot. He smells happy. Grayson’s wolf chuffs in pleasure at having subdued and satisfied their challenging mate.
“Hmmm?”
“Why was I tied down?”
Just then a high beep sounds and the door slides open; Grayson’s wolf perks up. His betas are here. Cinnamon and mocha make his mouth water, and his cock puts another load in Gideon.
“Tied down? What did we miss, and how come we’re late to that party?” Leo sounds Quite. Put. Out.