Chapter 23
Four days later, Michael started leaving the house.
After testing the implant on his mother and the staff, he felt reasonably confident that no one would suspect anything.
And no one had.
People didn’t notice that he didn’t have even a hint of stubble anymore. They only saw what they expected to see: a tall, powerful alpha who smelled like an alpha.
Michael should have been pleased. He knew he should have been. As far as his social standing was concerned, nothing had changed.
And yet.
Something in him died a little every time he bowed over an omega’s hand and adopted manners appropriate for an alpha.
No matter what Hugh had said, it didn’t feel natural.
He didn’t feel like it was the way things were supposed to be just because he had been born an alpha.
He felt wrong every time he had to force himself to act like an alpha. He felt like a fraud. Lesser.
And then Anthony walked into the room.
His jaw clenching, Michael tried to look engaged while Lord Crane rambled about his proposed legislation. Although he didn’t look Anthony’s way, he could feel him approach with his skin.
“Lord Crane,” Anthony said with a dry nod. “Michael.” His hand fell on Michael’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. There was nothing unusual or indecent about the touch. It was perfectly normal between friendly alphas.
But a whine was building in Michael’s throat, his gaze becoming unfocused as he tried not to breathe in Anthony’s delicious scent.
Fuck, how much worse would it have been if he hadn’t had the scent-blocking implant?
His hole was aching already, slick running down his inner thighs.
He needed to leave before anyone smelled it.
Muttering some excuse, Michael strode away, barely seeing where he was going. Finding an empty room at the back of the house, he sat on the couch heavily, trying to calm down.
But he couldn’t.
Groaning in defeat, he leaned back against the couch and touched his hole through his pants.
He ground against his hand to ease the ache inside.
It didn’t work, not when Anthony’s scent was still lingering on his shoulder.
Growling in frustration, Michael kicked off his pants and underwear—he couldn’t afford to get them ruined at a party.
When his hand finally touched his bare hole, he moaned. Fuck—
The door opened.
Anthony stood in the doorway, staring at him with wild, darkened eyes.
Michael froze.
The moment stretched.
Anthony shut the door and walked forward, like a predator approaching its prey.
Michael’s mouth was dry, but his hole was soaking wet and was only getting wetter the closer Anthony came.
Slowly, moving as if spellbound, Anthony sank to his knees before him and pushed Michael’s legs open, staring at his hole. “Fuck. You’re so...” Leaning in, he licked his cunt lewdly.
Michael keened, grabbing Anthony’s head. “Ant... No—we can’t—not here...”
Anthony ignored him. He ate him out as if Michael were a feast and he were a starved man, his tongue relentless, delving deeper and deeper into his hole until Michael was sobbing and begging him for more.
Before long, he was riding Anthony’s face like a slut, biting his own hand to muffle his noises.
They were at a party. Anyone could come across them and see him with Anthony’s tongue in his omega cunt.
But the danger of being caught only sharpened his arousal.
“Please, please—ahhh!” He arched and came with a cry, grinding his hole against Anthony’s mouth. So fucking good.
But Anthony didn’t stop. He kept going, licking him over and over, and, to his disbelief, Michael found himself moving his hips and rapidly approaching another orgasm. That had never happened to him before. He came again, Anthony’s name the only coherent sound on his lips.
He panted dazedly as Anthony got to his feet and jerked his own fly open, pulling out his hard cock.
Michael’s hole squeezed around nothing as he watched Anthony jerk himself off roughly.
He came after barely ten strokes, and Michael felt a rush of vicious satisfaction—it was proof that eating him out had turned Anthony on that much.
The murmur of voices in the hall jolted him out of his pleasure-drunk daze. Grabbing his clothes and trying not to panic, Michael quickly dressed.
“You still smell like an alpha.”
Michael walked to the window and opened it, letting fresh air into the room.
“Hugh gave me an alpha implant,” he said, running his hand through his hair.
He hoped he sounded nonchalant and not at all like he’d just been eaten out of his mind.
To make matters worse, there was still an unsatisfied ache deep inside of him that craved Anthony’s cock despite the two amazing orgasms he’d just had.
Anthony made a humming sound. “So you’re going to keep pretending to be an alpha.”
Frowning, Michael turned around and narrowed his eyes at him. “There’s no pretending. I am an alpha.” He hoped he sounded more convinced of it than he felt.
Anthony’s eyes were soft. Knowing. “Of course,” he said. “You were born an alpha, after all.”
Michael tried to ignore the unsettling feeling in his stomach. Why didn’t Anthony’s words feel satisfying? Something about them rubbed him the wrong way.
He watched warily as Anthony approached him.
“Are you okay?” Anthony said, touching Michael’s wrist with his fingertips.
Shivering, Michael tried to quash the urge to tip forward and rest his face against Anthony’s throat. He smelled so good, even with Michael’s scent-blocker. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
Anthony’s lips thinned, his blue eyes roaming over Michael’s face. “I know I wouldn’t be okay. I would be furious. I would be freaking out.”
Michael smiled humorlessly. “The changes aren’t actually that strange thanks to the past few months.
I was already used to my instincts not working correctly.
Now it’s actually easier because there’s no dissonance between how I feel and how I’m supposed to feel, and it’s easier to focus on faking alpha reactions. ”
Anthony nodded, looking at him intently.
His heart beating fast, Michael moistened his lips with his tongue. “We—we shouldn’t have done this,” he said, glancing at the couch.
Anthony smiled ruefully. “We shouldn’t have done a lot of things.”
Michael gave a laugh. “Yeah...” Realizing that Anthony was staring at him strangely, he frowned. “What?”
Anthony brought his hand up and smoothed the wrinkle between Michael’s brows.
“It’s just been a while since I’ve seen you laugh.
It’s—” He cut himself off. Pressing his thumb against the corner of Michael’s mouth, he said, looking him in the eyes, “I’m really sorry if this—if I ruined your life.
I want you to be happy. I want you to be happy with your body and your life.
If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, just say the word. ”
The intensity of that gaze did things to him. Horrible things.
Swallowing, Michael shook his head. “It’s not really your fault, any more than it was mine. I’m not angry anymore.”
Anthony smiled. “You’re too nice for your own good, you know,” he said, brushing his knuckles against Michael’s scent gland.
“You’ve always been a bit too nice for an alpha.
But I’m definitely not complaining.” He peered into Michael’s eyes.
“You will not avoid me anymore.” It was a question, though it sounded more like a statement.
A very presumptuous one. “We’ve been friends for years, Michael,” he said roughly.
“I don’t want to lose you—your friendship. Tell me I won’t.”
It was a terrible idea. Friends didn’t do what they’d done a few minutes ago.
If he wanted people to believe that he was still an alpha, he couldn’t be around an alpha who made him wet just by looking at him. It was a recipe for disaster. His scent-blocker was good, but it wasn’t that good.
And yet.
He was weak for those blue eyes, for the way they looked at him intently, as though there was nothing else in the world.
He’d missed him. Missed the way his presence filled his personal space, the way his gaze pinned him, as if nothing else existed for him, the way Anthony made him feel: safe and right, as though everything in the world was exactly where it should be.
Michael found himself nodding.
His eyes flashing with triumph, Anthony pulled him into a hug.
It was probably supposed to be a brief, manly hug, perfectly appropriate for friends, but the moment Anthony’s arms wrapped around him, Michael’s body went boneless. He buried his nose against Anthony’s throat, something like a whimper leaving his lips as he squirmed closer to his—to the alpha.
Anthony went still for a moment, before relaxing. “Of course,” he said breathlessly, stroking Michael’s hair. “You need to scent an alpha now. You need an alpha’s comfort.”
“I don’t,” Michael muttered, his face burning.
“Don’t be stupid, of course you do. It’s simple biology. All omegas need to scent and be scent-marked by their alpha—either their family alpha or their mate. You don’t have a family alpha—or a mate. You’re scent-starved, Mike.”
“Don’t call me Mike,” he said—more like slurred. He really did feel so much better now, the anxious, restless feeling in the pit of his stomach finally gone.
Anthony chuckled against his ear, sending goosebumps skittering across his skin. “I can help you with this,” he promised, his voice low and serious. His lips brushed against Michael’s earlobe. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I? I can take care of your needs. Let me take care of you.”
Michael’s stomach felt so very warm.
He knew this couldn’t end well.
But he was helpless against the need, the raw, gnawing yearning inside him.
He’d never felt better than he did now, wrapped in Anthony’s arms, his lungs full of his calming scent.
It felt achingly right, like the world finally made sense.
Like he made sense. His head felt empty, free of any worries.
It didn’t matter whether he was an alpha or an omega; nothing mattered anymore.
Nothing but him.