Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
ETHAN
Ollie slumps against me, completely drained and exhausted, his breathing soon growing deep and relaxed as he falls asleep on me with my knot still inside him.
I position him as best as possible so he can be comfortable and his head nestles against my throat. I run my hands up and down his smooth back and his soft exhales on my skin fill me with an unprecedented sense of peace.
My eyes slide shut but Ollie’s image is burned on the back of my eyelids.
I thought my head would explode when he took my hand and placed it on his body. All while shyly asking me to pretend that he’s mine.
I would laugh bitterly at the irony of his request but I’d rather choke than wake him up when he’s sleeping so soundly.
And that’s the crux of the problem.
I don’t need to pretend because everything inside me screams that he’s mine.
Of course there’s always the possibility that I could be wrong. Emotions are always heightened during a heat cycle, for the omega first and foremost, but also for the alpha due to the pheromones.
But when I try to imagine what it would be like to touch someone else, to fuck someone who isn’t Oliver, my skin crawls in disgust. My heartbeat speeds up at the thought, but the minute I bury my nose into his hair and inhale his scent, everything settles.
He lightly squirms in my lap, the move sending electricity through me as my cock and knot jolt inside him and a soft moan escapes him without him waking up.
I brush the curls off his face, unable to stop caressing his warm skin.
Can I watch him walk away from me, never seeing his bright green eyes sparkling with happiness, never watching his beautiful smile bloom, never hearing his laugh again?
Something dark and possessive swirls thickly in my gut as my arms tighten around him.
Can I bear the thought of someone else touching him, parting his plush lips and swallowing his moans, sinking inside his wet heat and fucking him until he cries out?
Over my dead fucking body, I think as a low growl rumbles in my chest and my hips instinctively push me inside him, wanting to feel him, needing to prove to myself that he’s still here, still with me.
Ollie sighs in answer, his lips brushing the softest kiss on my neck, and a wave of tenderness washes through me while a pulsing ache throbs in my chest.
Because even though all I want is to keep him and to never let him out of my sight ever again, I know I could never do that to him. It’s just his first heat, for fuck’s sake, I can’t make this choice for him. Not with what he’s been through. Not while he’s still vulnerable.
No. I will respect what he wants to do.
Even if it kills me.
***
Something feels different the next couple of days.
While the need that’s been ravaging us for more than a week should be slowly fizzling, it’s not. Instead, it morphs into something desperate. Inevitable.
We still do all the normal things—eating, hydrating, resting—and we even manage to watch some TV and go for another walk outside.
But all it takes is one look between us, just one burning look, and it doesn’t matter if I’m cooking, or if he’s reading, because in a few heartbeats we’re tearing our clothes off and I’m sinking inside him. No talking, just harsh breathing and choked moaning.
I can’t stop touching him, mapping every part of him, drinking in every detail of him as if he’ll disappear right before my eyes. My hands grip him tighter, harder, until I’m pretty sure there will be bruises on his skin, and he welcomes everything eagerly. Insatiably.
I do everything I can to stay awake, loathing the idea that I’ll close my eyes and I’ll lose so many precious hours of watching him next to me, but eventually I give in to exhaustion.
It’s morning again when I feel the most perfect, wet heat around my cock.
A groan builds in my throat as I melt into the mattress. My eyes crack open and the sight that greets me has me thrusting up.
Into Ollie’s hot, perfect mouth.
Fuck, the way he looks like this.
I spread my legs wider to make more room for him, my fingers tangling in his soft, dark curls as he moans around the head.
His eyes are hazy with lust when they look up at me, his pink tongue coming out to lick me from root to tip.
“I’m so sorry, Ethan,” he whispers between kittenish licks and wet sucks. “I just wanted a taste. I needed to know what you feel like in my mouth.”
And he dives on my cock again, a strangled sound ripping out of me at the sensation.
“Oh fuck, sweetheart. I told you, you can do whatever you want to me.” My fingers tighten in his strands and I guide his mouth up and down until he’s choking on me and I’m rubbing my head against the back of his throat.
“What are you doing to me, Ollie?” I mutter in a wrecked voice, watching him take over the movement, bobbing his head with low, hungry sounds. “God, what are you doing to me?”
He flicks his eyes up at me as he briefly pulls off and laps greedily at the underside of my dick before he’s swallowing me down again—lips stretched, cheeks flushed, blissed-out—and I snap.
Tugging on his curls, I pull him off me completely, flipping him onto his back, his eyes widening before fire consumes them. He opens his legs for me and I fall between them, pushing inside his welcoming body as he wraps his legs and arms around me.
Our eyes lock and hold, before we’re meeting in the middle, biting each other’s lips, licking into each other’s mouths, and despite the frenzy of our bodies, the kiss is soft, slow. Devastating.
It’s torture, and agony because it feels like goodbye and I want to howl at the anguish that tears through me even as my body rushes through orgasm.
And when Ollie tightens around me and cries out, I unleash everything inside him, pumping and pumping and pumping until I’ve marked every inch of him with me.
We stay just like this as we come down, locked together in an embrace, my forehead touching his. I shift us slightly so I’m not crushing him and hold him against me, nuzzling his hair, mouthing his temple.
“It’s over, isn’t it?” he whispers hoarsely, and the faint tremble in his voice breaks something in me.
“Yeah. It feels that way,” I whisper back, pulling him in tighter. “You’ll need some rest and you might feel like you don’t want anyone touching you soon, but you’ll be back to normal in no time.” Jesus, I’m fucking babbling.
The silence is deafening for a while, but then he slowly nods against me.
“Yeah. Normal.”
Despite how clear my head is now that the heat fever has subsided, my mind is blank, empty of words and thoughts. So, I just let him rest, feeling his warmth seeping into my skin, memorizing his night-flower scent, and wishing I could hold him like this forever.