Chapter 11 #2
“Get off me.” Michael’s heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was about to jump out of his chest. He bucked, trying to throw the other alpha off, but he had no leverage. And Anthony was stronger. Heavier. And he was on top of him.
No, no, no, he begged his body as his cock thickened and his system flooded with rage, terror, and sickening arousal.
Anthony’s nostrils flared. He could undoubtedly smell his arousal too.
Michael flushed, beyond humiliated. “Get off me,” he repeated. “Now.”
But it almost seemed as though Anthony hadn’t even heard him: he didn’t react at all, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply, his eyes fixed on Michael’s face with an expression that was unnervingly intense.
“Ant,” Michael bit off. “Snap out of it.”
Anthony’s gaze became more present. “Sorry,” he said gruffly. And didn’t move.
Michael shot him an incredulous look. “What the fuck, man? Get off me!”
Finally—finally—Anthony did as he was told, his movements stiff and jerky. He tugged at his tie and turned his head away, staring out the window.
Michael moved as far from him as was possible, his mind racing with confusing thoughts that refused to settle. He didn’t understand what was going on with Anthony.
“What the hell was that?” he said at last, breaking the silence.
Anthony didn’t reply immediately. “You’re right,” he said when Michael had started thinking that he wasn’t going to reply at all. “I know I crossed the line.”
“But why? That’s what I don’t understand. You’ve been acting strange, Ant.”
Anthony finally looked at him. His face was largely inscrutable, but his gaze was dark, something disturbed in his expression. Something disturbing. “It bothers me that I don’t remember it.”
Michael blinked, utterly confused. What?
Anthony’s lips twisted into something rueful. “I know it makes no sense. I shouldn’t want to remember it. But ever since you told me what happened...” A muscle jumped in his cheek. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I suppose—I suppose I’m curious.”
“Curious,” Michael repeated.
“About what happened,” Anthony said stiffly. “I just can’t wrap my mind around me fucking another alpha—fucking you.”
There was a pulling sensation in the pit of his stomach that Michael couldn’t identify. “I’m not exactly repulsive,” he said dryly.
Anthony gave a laugh. “Don’t be an idiot—it’s not about your looks.” His eyes roamed over Michael’s face before he averted his gaze. “You know you make most omegas look plain.” He tugged at his tie again, loosening the knot. “I just have trouble believing that I’ve fucked you. You’re an alpha.”
Michael grimaced. “Yeah... Sometimes it seems surreal even to me, and I actually remember everything.”
Blue eyes peered at him with that familiar, odd intensity. “Did you hate it?”
“What kind of question is that?” Michael said, struggling to keep his face blank. “Of course I hated it.”
Anthony regarded him for a long moment before moving closer, his heavy pheromones flooding Michael’s senses once again. “If you truly hated it, then why are you aroused now?”
Michael glared at him. “I already told you—what happened messed with my system.”
“But why would my proximity arouse you if your body didn’t associate it with something arousing?”
“What are you trying to imply?” Michael bit out, feeling cornered and hating it.
Anthony’s eyes roved over his face again. “Did you enjoy it physically?” he said, his voice very low. “Having my knot in you?”
Michael’s cock throbbed, arousal making him lightheaded.
Anthony’s nostrils flared as his gaze dropped to the bulge straining against Michael’s fly. There was no hiding it. It looked obscene.
Silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Michael had never felt so humiliated and aroused at the same time.
Anthony’s gaze lingered on his crotch, his expression intense and unreadable. “You did,” he said, eyes glinting with a strange, obsessive light. “You—”
The helicopter landed, and Michael all but jumped out of it. “Get Lord Blake to his estate,” he ordered the pilot, and stormed off. He had to get away from him.
Michael strode into the house and headed straight for his bedroom, ignoring the servants who tried to speak to him.
He slammed the door shut and yanked his pants down.
He grabbed his aching cock and squeezed it, but it brought little relief.
His head spinning from Anthony’s pheromones, he staggered toward his bed, kicking off his pants and underwear.
Grabbing his dildo from the drawer, he quickly lubed it up.
Lying down on his back, he spread his legs and pushed the dildo into his asshole, grunting at the stretch.
With how often he did this, he no longer needed much prep, his hole always eager to be filled.
Michael put the dildo in thrusting mode, moaning as it started fucking him. Fuck, it was exactly what he needed after that clusterfuck of an evening. Goddamn Anthony with his horrible scent, strange obsession, and his goddamn questions—
The door opened.
It took Michael’s lust-fogged mind a moment too long to register it.
When his gaze finally focused on the tall alpha standing in the doorway, he froze, his wide eyes locking with Anthony’s.
The world stopped, or at least it felt like it.
Then, Anthony’s eyes moved downward, to Michael’s spread legs and the dildo inside him.
“Get out,” Michael growled, his face aflame. This couldn’t be fucking happening. It had to be a nightmare. Any moment now, he’d wake up, and all of this would vanish like a bad dream. Surely his best friend hadn’t just walked in on him fucking himself with a dildo.
Anthony didn’t move, staring. The dildo was still moving.
“Out!” Michael snarled, trying to find the dildo’s remote, but in his panic, he couldn’t remember where he’d tossed it. “Close the door!”
Anthony closed the door—from this side.
At last, Michael found the remote and switched the dildo off. Snatching up a pillow, he pulled it over his lap to cover himself. “Get. Out.”
Anthony approached the bed. “Calm down,” he said, dragging his gaze to Michael’s face. “I just want to help, Michael.”
Michael bared his teeth at him. “I don’t need your help. Out. Now.”
Of course his Voice didn’t work on Anthony.
But it clearly rubbed him the wrong way, his scent thickening with aggression and becoming oppressive, pressing into him, into his lungs, into his brain, making his mind go blank and his hole squeeze around the hardness in him.
A whine built up in Michael’s throat, and he swallowed it with difficulty.
“Just leave, okay? Let me get dressed at least.” And let me pull the dildo out of my ass.
Anthony didn’t move, boring his eyes into him. “Is this a new thing?” he said, his voice clipped.
“What do you think?” Michael said with a harsh laugh. “I was normal until Belith! I told you it fucked me up!”
“So you did like it,” Anthony said in a strange tone of voice. “You liked being fucked by me so much you now need it.”
Red haze clouding his vision, Michael hurled himself at the other alpha, driving him to the floor. His fist slammed into Anthony’s jaw—once, twice, again—each blow fueled by the desperate urge to hurt, to crush. It was his fault. All of this was his fault.
Anthony flipped them, pinning Michael’s arms with his hands, his grip bruising, uncompromising.
“Enough,” he commanded, his Voice like a whip. Alpha.
Michael’s body went pliant, his body refusing the commands of his brain.
He felt disembodied, unwoven, as if Anthony had caught the end of some vital thread within him and pulled it loose, undoing everything he was.
All he could focus on was the heavy alpha on top of him.
A thickness inside of him. Yes, yes, yes, his body rejoiced.
“I hate you,” Michael gasped out, his erection trapped against Anthony’s hard thigh. Before he could stop himself, his hips twitched, grinding his cock against it.
Anthony went very still on top of him. There were now new undertones in his scent—disbelief, disgust, and morbid curiosity—but Michael couldn’t bring himself to care anymore.
He rutted against Anthony’s thigh, his hole clenching around the dildo inside of him.
He wanted to come. He needed to come. He wanted to be fucked.
He didn’t even care anymore how wrong it was, how gross it probably was for the other alpha.
Part of him rejoiced in it. He wanted to gross Anthony out, to sully him with his wrongness, use his body for his pleasure.
A moan slipped out of his mouth, his hole clenching around the thickness in him as he rubbed his stiff cock against Anthony’s thigh, lewd, shameless, and desperate.
The pressure was perfect, the thick muscle of Anthony’s thigh solid and unyielding, the friction divine, yet not enough.
His cock was leaking, dragging over Anthony’s clothed thigh with every desperate thrust. He needed—he needed— He sank his teeth into Anthony’s shoulder, his hips lurching upwards.
Anthony growled. A hand closed around Michael’s throat, the grip firm and commanding.
Wailing, Michael arched his neck, baring it to the other alpha.
A moment later, teeth sank into it, vicious, and Michael jolted as if electrocuted, his thighs trembling violently as he came.
He came so hard his whole body seized, his back arching in a perfect, trembling bow.
All he could feel was bliss. Pure, overwhelming bliss.
And then reality crashed back.