Chapter 21
Over the next few days, Michael tried to cast what Anthony had said out of his mind.
Anthony was right: people did say stupid shit during sex. Filthy fantasies and dirty talk meant nothing outside the bedroom.
But.
He was beginning to think Anthony at least meant some of it. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be avoiding him.
Two days was nothing in the grand scheme of things, but after weeks of having Anthony inside of him every single day, going two days without as much as seeing him was... strange. He hated it. He hated the sterile scent of his sheets—cold, untouched, empty.
By the evening of the second day Michael was snapping at his staff and his mother, feeling shaky and uncertain and more than a little pissed off.
He tossed and turned for hours until he finally fell into a restless sleep.
He dreamed of Anthony fucking him. Dreaming of it wasn’t all that unusual, but there was something different about this dream.
It took Michael a moment to realize what was off.
There were wet, filthy sounds on every thrust of Anthony’s cock, and they were getting more obvious, as if his body was growing wetter. Lube didn’t work like that. This was...
“So wet for me,” dream Anthony said, fucking hard into him and looking at him with enamored eyes. “So wet and sloppy. Such a good omega for me.”
Michael woke to sticky boxers and ragged breaths, his lips still parted around the word alpha.
He tried to put it out of his mind.
Everyone had a weird dream once in a while. It meant absolutely nothing.
But his skin was crawling with unease, a small, panicky feeling settling in his gut and refusing to leave. He wanted to see Anthony. He wanted Anthony to tell him that everything was fine, that they were fine, that Michael would be fine.
That need for reassurance freaked him out more than Anthony’s words or that freaky dream.
Was he already close to the point of no return if he’d started wanting reassurance from another alpha?
Alphas didn’t reassure each other. Alphas most definitely didn’t seek comfort from another alpha.
Maybe a bit of space would truly be good for him.
But he didn’t want space.
Everything in him wanted to see Anthony. Needed to see him. It was like an incessant itch that couldn’t be scratched, no matter how much Michael tried to distract himself with managing his finances and estates.
He found himself staring at the documents blankly, wondering what Anthony was doing. Was he home alone? Was he thinking of him? Was he with someone else?
A wave of ugly, vicious possessiveness almost made him choke. Michael tried to breathe through it, but it didn’t work.
Groaning, he dropped his face into his hands.
Feeling utterly defeated, he reached for his phone.
It rang twice before Anthony picked up.
“Michael?”
His low voice sent a shiver of need through him, and the knot of tension at the base of Michael’s spine unspooled slightly. Not gone, but eased.
“I want to see you,” Michael said.
There was a bit of silence on the line.
It occurred to Michael that it was the first time he’d actually acknowledged aloud that he wanted to see the other alpha. Even when he’d texted Anthony during his rut, it had been more of a straightforward command: Come to my place. He’d never talked about it in terms of want.
“I wanted to see you too, but I thought you were angry with me,” Anthony said, his voice careful. “For what I said.”
“I am—I was—” Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want to argue about it again, Ant. I don’t feel good.”
“What do you mean?” Anthony said, his voice becoming sharp. “What’s wrong?”
Michael shrugged, feeling exhausted. “I don’t know. I just feel strange. On edge. Like I’m coming undone and don’t make sense anymore.” He laughed a little. “Considering everything Hugh has told us, maybe I am coming undone.”
“And you think my presence would help,” Anthony stated, his tone strange.
“I don’t know,” Michael said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s probably not smart. But I just want to see you.” Admitting it again brought a mix of thrill and fear.
“Okay,” Anthony said in that strange tone of voice. “I’ll be there soon.” He hung up, leaving Michael wondering how soon “soon” was.
He didn’t have to wonder long.
Anthony arrived barely twenty minutes later.
He strode into Michael’s office as though he owned it, his alpha scent immediately filling the room.
Instead of feeling an answering aggression, Michael felt the knot of tension at the base of his spine finally fade.
Anthony stalked over and took Michael’s chin in his hand, tipping his face up. “Are you okay?” he said, the knuckles of his other hand brushing against Michael’s scent gland, scent-marking him casually.
It made liquid warmth pull to Michael’s stomach.
He leaned into the other alpha’s touch, struggling to keep his eyes open.
“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. “I feel strange. It’s better now that you’re here, but I feel like—like I’m a passenger in my own body.
Restless. I’m not sure what I need to feel better. There’s just so much noise in my head.”
Blue eyes studied him attentively. “Come on,” Anthony said after a moment, pulling him to his feet. He put a hand on Michael’s nape, a warm, firm, grounding touch that settled something in him.
As though in a daze, Michael allowed the other alpha to steer him toward his bedroom.
“Lord Blake!”
They froze at the sound of Michael’s mother’s voice.
Michael turned his head, watching her approach them.
“I didn’t know you were visiting,” she said with a smile.
Anthony picked up her hand and bowed over it slightly. His other hand remained on Michael’s neck. “My lady,” he said, all effortless alpha charm.
She certainly looked charmed.
Something ugly twisted Michael’s insides. “I’m sorry, Mother,” he said stiffly. “Anthony and I have things to discuss.”
She peered at him, a puzzled frown flickering over her fine features as her gaze fell to Anthony’s hand on his nape.
Michael knew it was more than a little suspicious.
Alphas didn’t touch each other like that.
Although it wasn’t exactly scruffing, the firm hold was definitely restricting.
It should have felt stifling. Threatening.
Michael should not have been allowing Anthony to touch him like this, period, much less in someone’s presence.
But Michael couldn’t bring himself to shake the hand off. A small, messed-up part of him wanted everyone to see Anthony touching him that way. Mine, the beast in him growled, even as his instincts failed to react as an alpha should have reacted in such a situation.
“Of course,” his mother said after a moment, giving Anthony’s hand another strange look. “Don’t let me keep you.”
Murmuring his goodbye, Anthony resumed guiding him toward his bedroom.
“She’s probably suspicious,” Michael said with a sigh, but he couldn’t bring himself to care much.
“Probably,” Anthony agreed, sounding unconcerned. He pulled Michael’s bedroom door open and steered him toward the bed. “Get undressed and lie down. On your stomach.”
Chuckling, Michael shot him an incredulous look but obliged.
“Is sex seriously your answer to everything?” But his cock was already stirring at the mere thought of having Anthony back inside him again.
Fuck, he really would be wet for Anthony at the slightest touch if he were an omega. His body was such a whore for this man.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” Anthony said, toeing off his shoes and undressing too. He climbed on top of Michael and settled his weight on him, his chest to Michael’s back.
Oh.
Michael gasped, his mind going so very quiet.
It felt so good. The pressure, the weight of him, the scent of him, the feel of his bare skin. Michael felt like he was hidden from the rest of the world, protected and taken care of. It felt so, so good.
He moaned when Anthony buried his face in his neck, pumping out his pheromones.
It took Michael an embarrassingly long time to recognize what Anthony was doing. It was the classic way to calm an anxious omega: a lot of skin contact with the alpha, and pressure.
And it was working on him.
Fuck.
“Don’t think,” Anthony said, his voice low but firm. “Just let it happen. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” Michael whispered hoarsely.
“It feels good to me too,” Anthony said against his neck. “You smell of me.”
There was deep satisfaction in his voice, in his scent, and it made something warm and pleased curl in Michael’s chest. He liked pleasing his alpha. He liked smelling of him. This was right.
Michael frowned, trying to shake off the thoughts and the strange, pleasant lethargy taking over his body, but he couldn’t seem to. He felt perfectly content where he was. He’d die happily like this. Under his alpha.
“Ant,” he murmured, feeling needy and scared of it.
“I’m here.” Anthony bit his nape, catching skin between his teeth. “I’ve got you. Go to sleep, sweetheart.”
Michael drifted off.
His dreams were strange, full of colors and sensations. It felt like his body was burning, a deep ache building in his lower stomach, as if something was being rearranged inside of him.
He keened in pain, his body aching and his mind disoriented.
“Michael?”
A cool hand pressed against his forehead.
“Fuck, you’re burning up. I’ll get a doctor.” The hand was suddenly gone, and panic hit him hard, making him hyperventilate and whine.
“Shh, I’m here, I’ve got you.” Cool lips touched his forehead. “Let me just text Hugh. I wouldn’t be able to explain my presence here to another doctor.”
Whimpering, he curled into a fetal position, losing himself to the pain.
Some indeterminable time later, distant voices pulled him back to awareness. One of them sounded angry.
“I can’t fucking believe you, Anthony. I wasn’t joking when I said you needed to stay away from him!”