Chapter 12
Anthony felt the man under him tense up.
Then, Michael’s eyelids lifted. His dark eyes were still glazed with pleasure, but after a moment, horror dawned in them. Horror and wariness, as if he were bracing for a blow.
Anthony’s gaze traveled down to his own hand still wrapped around Michael’s throat. Then at the raw, bloody bite mark on Michael’s neck. The mark he’d left.
He had trouble tearing his eyes away, oddly transfixed by the way blood trickled from the small wound. Something that felt a lot like satisfaction twisted his insides, mingling with a deep unease.
Modern alphas didn’t bite each other’s throats. They certainly didn’t draw blood. It wasn’t done. It was taboo for a reason.
In prehistoric times, alphas used to bite each other to establish dominance.
It was commonly believed that was how the alpha gene emerged: cavemen that displayed more aggression and dominance passed down traits that eventually formed a subspecies that became known as alpha.
There had been just alphas and regular folk—betas—in the beginning.
Modern scientists tended to adhere to the theory that the emergence of omegas was the natural evolution of homosexuality, that alphas and omegas were simply perfect biological counterparts, regardless of sex.
Omegas soothed the fire that burned inside alphas, serving as the ideal outlet for their aggression and protectiveness, and so it was widely regarded as the natural order of things.
But there were theories that disagreed about the origin of omegas.
Some historians believed that first omegas had been made.
Ancient alphas were highly territorial and aggressive, often prone to violent clashes during the full moons.
They fought each other to the death—or raped the other into submission.
Some believed that was how omegas had first come to be: through the subjugation of other alphas, through dominating them so brutally that they broke.
After several generations, omegas began to be born naturally, and the practice of making them eventually disappeared.
Anthony had always thought that belief was ridiculous, as did most alphas.
It seemed unthinkable to any alpha that they could be converted to an omega.
But regardless of any skepticism, it was taboo to bite other alphas, to draw their blood with teeth, to hold their throat and force submission. It just wasn’t done.
“Let go.”
The voice seemed to be coming from very far away.
He couldn’t tear his gaze from the bloody bite mark on the other alpha’s neck. From his own hand around it. The sight was oddly enthralling. He squeezed.
“Ant,” said a shaky voice. “Get off me.”
He didn’t move.
“Anthony!”
He flinched—and suddenly became aware of several things at once.
He was still lying on top of Michael.
Michael’s bare legs were splayed to accommodate Anthony’s thigh between them.
His thigh was wet with Michael’s come.
Michael was still half-hard.
Anthony was harder.
“Let go,” Michael whispered harshly, meeting his eyes. He looked more than a little freaked out. He could undoubtedly feel Anthony’s erection against his thigh. “Let’s just—let’s just pretend this hasn’t happened. It’s not too late.”
He was right. It wasn’t too late yet. He could get up and pretend this hadn’t happened. Pretend to be a normal alpha who didn’t get hard from choking and dominating another alpha.
It wasn’t too late yet.
He heard himself say, “Unzip me.”
The rational part of him tried to surface, but the beast within smothered it.
It didn’t like that Michael had used his body to get off.
It didn’t like that Anthony had another alpha’s come on him.
It wanted to rectify that, to sully the other alpha with his bodily fluids.
It felt like a need, burning and overwhelming, his instincts overruling his brain.
All he could focus on was the throbbing ache of his cock, the primitive, vicious urge to use and dominate.
The man under him smelled wrong. Too strong, too alpha.
He was supposed to be the only alpha here.
The other had to be subdued. Brought to heel.
Marked with his scent, covered in his fluids.
He pressed his thumb against Michael’s pulse. It was hammering, like a bird trapped in a cage.
“Pull my cock out,” he commanded, staring at the sluggishly bleeding bite mark. Unable to suppress the urge, he leaned down and licked the wound, pushing his pheromones into his saliva. He wanted to cover the other alpha’s stink with his own scent, mark him through his blood, from the inside.
Michael made a punched-out noise, his body jerking. “Ant...”
“Do it.”
There was a shaky inhale, and then fingers scrambled between their bodies, pawing at his crotch clumsily before yanking the zipper open.
“Touch me,” Anthony said, squeezing the other alpha’s throat harder. “Get me off.”
The man under him trembled, but his grip was firm and greedy as he started stroking Anthony’s cock.
His hand was big and strong, nothing like an omega’s.
The wrongness of it, the stench of another alpha, the big body under him.
.. it sharpened the arousal somehow, making Anthony groan and thrust into the other alpha’s hand, fucking it nastily.
“Ant, I can’t breathe,” Michael choked out. Anthony focused his gaze on him, taking in Michael’s glazed eyes and flushed face, his hand obediently stroking Anthony’s cock despite the fact that Anthony was choking him. He looked absolutely wrecked, his lips wet and bitten red.
No alpha should have a mouth like that.
Anthony wrenched his cock free and moved up the other alpha’s body until his cockhead bumped against that red, full mouth. “Open up.”
Michael swallowed. “What—I’m not—I’m not doing it.” He glared at Anthony, his cheeks pink. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
He probably was. There was a sick part of him that wanted to force Michael. To force him to take it. To shove his cock down the other alpha’s throat and brutalize it until Michael couldn’t breathe around his cock—and couldn’t breathe without it.
No. He wasn’t that far gone.
Grabbing Michael’s dark gold hair in his fist, Anthony tugged it, forcing him to bare his throat completely.
Then he let his erection drag over it, over the masculine line of Michael’s throat.
It looked nothing like an omega’s neck: thick and strong, the alpha stench of it unmistakable.
There should have been nothing arousing about it.
But seeing his cock sullying another alpha’s throat like that only made Anthony burn with such insane arousal he could barely think straight.
He pressed his cockhead against Michael’s mating gland, watching with a perverse, twisted sort of pleasure as his precome dripped over it, scent-marking Michael so thoroughly his scent started covering the other alpha’s offensive smell. The animal in him liked it.
“Ant,” Michael stammered out. He looked wrecked. Overwhelmed. “What are you doing?”
He had no idea. It was as though the world around them had faded around the edges, leaving only the man under him in sharp focus. The urge to sully, to dominate, to crush, to take was so strong it left no room for rational thought.
He yanked at Michael’s shirt and ripped it open.
“What the hell, Ant?”
Michael’s chest was as strong and muscular as his own. Alpha. It shouldn’t have been so arousing, but it was. Anthony dragged his leaking cockhead over Michael’s pecs, over his pink nipples. Michael gasped, his eyes becoming glazed. His cock was rock hard again.
“Look at you,” Anthony heard himself say, his voice low and mean. “You look like a slut.”
“Fuck you,” Michael ground out, as if Anthony couldn’t smell his arousal. “I am an alpha.”
Scoffing, Anthony grabbed Michael’s thick pecs, kneading them roughly.
He forced Michael’s chest together under his palms, studying the result with a hungry sort of satisfaction.
Michael’s pecs looked like tits when they were pressed like that.
Anthony groaned as he pushed his cock into the hole they created.
“What are you doing,” Michael hissed. “I’m going to kill you for this.”
“I don’t see you pushing me away,” Anthony said, and Michael flushed, glaring daggers at him.
His chest rose and fell with anger. Michael’s alpha tits looked so good around his cock. Anthony started thrusting, fucking those tits with relish. Fuuuck. So damn good. But not enough. His cock was too big and long for this to get him off. “Stick your tongue out,” he said. “Now.”
Michael glared at him, breathing hard, but he did as he was told, sticking his pink tongue out of his mouth.
Anthony adjusted his angle so that his cockhead rubbed against the other alpha’s tongue on every upward thrust. He groaned, thrusting harder and harder, until he found himself shifting forward and pushing into Michael’s mouth completely.
Michael made a protesting noise around his cock but didn’t try to pull away or bite it.
He just lay there and took it as Anthony fucked his mouth roughly, wrapping his hand around Michael’s neck again.
Wet, tight heat. So damn good. Anthony slammed his cockhead against the other alpha’s throat, groaning as it constricted around him. Fuck yeah, take it.
He caught something in his peripheral vision—the remote Michael had used to turn the sex toy off.
The dildo had to be still inside him, fuck.
The image of his friend—a strong, muscular alpha—with a dildo in his ass was probably forever burned into his retinas.
The knowledge that it was his cock that had turned Michael into someone who got off on being fucked was as disturbing as it was intoxicating.