Kyle
It had taken more restraint than I knew I was capable of to hold myself back from tackling Max to the bed as soon as he appeared in the doorway.
So when he says those words—there’s nothing I won’t do for you—and I can see it in his dark, shining, beautiful fucking eyes that he actually means it… I snap.
The restless energy that’s been building to a fever pitch all day drives me forward and over the bed, my good arm wrapping around his strong waist and pushing him back into the sheets, pinning him there with my knees bracketed around his hips.
He gasps in surprise, the impact probably knocking the air out of his lungs, but I’m over him before he has a chance to take a full breath.
I bury my fingers in his hair, thanking a god I don’t believe in that it’s only just grown out long enough for me to be able to twist my fingers against his scalp and tug his head to the side, exposing the blank, perfect line of his throat.
“Max,” I rasp against his bare flesh, burying my nose in the juncture between his neck and shoulder and taking a desperate, shuddering breath of him into my lungs. “Fuck.”
His scent is thick and gorgeous, purely Max but still overwhelmingly alpha in a way that fucks with my brain, but there’s no doubt as to what I’m going to do about it.
Instinct overrides everything else, and I push out my pheromones in heavy, choking waves, pinning him with my full weight as I drag my teeth over his neck and rub my cheek over his scent gland, then down to his collarbones, and further down to his chest.
I’m scent marking him. Aggressively.
I’m scent marking another alpha so there could be no doubt in anyone’s mind who he belongs to. Sure, it has the added bonus of completely eradicating the only other alpha scent in the room, but deep down I know that’s not why I’m doing it. I’m doing it because I need to own him.
Logically, I know that’s fucked, but my rut-crazed brain couldn’t give two shits—it just wants the perfect creature currently panting underneath me to be so wrapped in my scent it’s seeping out of his pores for the next six months.
“Need you to smell like me,” I murmur frantically. “All of you. Every bit.”
As I’m scenting his chest, his pink nipples catch my attention, and I draw one of them into my mouth, enjoying the feeling of his firm, well-defined pec under my lips way too much.
The small, broken sound that comes out of Max’s mouth goes straight to my cock, already a steel rod in my sweats where it’s pressing into the hard meat of his thigh.
I’m not sure I’ve ever been this hard before, my arousal so feverishly strong that just the feeling of his chest heaving under my tongue is nearly enough to make me blow.
“Umph, fuck, Ky,” Max murmurs, sounding rough and wrecked already.
I notice that one of his hands is cupping the elbow of my broken arm, protecting it from bumping against his body, not that I’m entirely sure I’d feel it at this point.
And then I stop noticing it, because my knee brushes against Max’s cock in his sweats and fuck me it’s hard, and that’s suddenly much more important than anything else in the goddamn universe.
“We need to get you off,” he breathes, trying to shuffle his hand down my body but stopping when a growl rumbles in my throat, maybe a little too combatively.
I’m not exactly sure where it comes from, because all I want to do right now is get off, but I know my alpha is absolutely not in the mood for anyone but me to be calling the shots.
“You’ll do what I tell you,” I rumble, grinding the outlines of our hard dicks together with a deep groan. I lean in close, my voice low in his ear. “Do you know why?”
Max shudders underneath me. “Why?”
“Because you’re fucking mine, alpha,” I snarl, and I know it’s the rut talking, but just saying the words out loud makes heat coil dangerously tight in my gut. “You belong to me. Understand?”
He nods, his hips arching into mine.
“Say it,” I breathe.
“I’m yours, alpha,” he drawls, his eyes meeting mine steadily, his hair mussed from my grip and his head still tilted enough to bare his neck.
Submissive. Perfect. And then he drops his voice to a soft, pleading tone that makes my cock ache so much it hurts, “And I want you to use my mouth. Please, alpha.”
Holy fucking shit.
This time I don’t fight it when he pushes me onto my back, gently enough not to hurt my arm or my alpha pride. He crawls down my body and slides my sweats down just enough to hook underneath my balls, my cock springing out, red and angry and desperate.
I hiss when he grips it, and I’m pretty sure he’s never done this before, just like I hadn’t—before the other day on the couch.
The memory of his cock in my mouth makes my dick kick against his palm, and the friction sends a jolt of pleasure shooting up my spine, and Max, my best friend Max, is kneeling between my spread legs and leaning down to take my leaking cock into his mouth and I have never been closer to losing my mind.
As soon as his lips wrap around my sensitive cockhead and his eyes snap up to meet mine, I know this isn’t going to last long.
“Fuck—Max,” I gasp, watching in awe as his mouth stretches around my shaft as he sinks down further, trying to take as much as he can like the good alpha he is. “Look at you. So fucking good with my cock stuffed in your pretty mouth.”
Max groans around me, and the filth is just spilling out of my lips before my brain can catch up, my alpha’s possessive streak running out of control.
“I’m gonna flood your perfect mouth ‘til it’s overflowing. Gonna claim it. You’ll be tasting me on your tongue for weeks. This the first cock you ever had in your mouth, Max? Hmm?”
He nods, popping off me just to confirm what I already knew, the confession twisting like a vise around my balls all the same. “Just you,” he pants. “No one else.”
And then his mouth is back on me, and my hands are gripping his head and pushing him down and he’s swallowing me with no resistance.
“So fucking good,” I gasp, my cock stiffening, balls drawing all the way up as his tongue flicks over my slit and how the hell is he so good at this? “I’m gonna come, Max—shit—I’m gonna nut—”
Max pulls back until only my crown is in his mouth, jerking my length with a tight grip that makes my head spin as the first orgasm of my rut rips its way through me like a hurricane, shaking me to my core as I spill over Max’s tongue with a groan.
I come so hard it’s borderline painful, and it does jack fucking shit to take the edge off my rut.
I come down too quickly, my cock still hard and throbbing, Max still staring up at me with blown out pupils and puffy lips.
“Don’t swallow it,” I say hoarsely, untangling my hand from Max’s hair and opening my palm underneath his mouth. “Spit.”
Max obeys without hesitation, opening his mouth to reveal the thick, obscene load of cum pooled on his tongue, before spitting it filthily into my hand.
A thick rope of it stretches from his lips to the puddle in my palm, and I make a mental note to store this image in a place I can never, ever forget it.
“Good alpha. Turn the fuck around,” I growl. “Present yourself for me.”
Max can’t wrestle off his sweats fast enough, stripping naked and sliding onto his front.
His body may as well be carved out of stone, honed from years of training and so, so different from the omegas I’m used to fucking.
He’s strong where they’re weak, hard where they’re soft.
Big where they’re small. And I want him more than I’ve ever wanted any omega; so badly it feels like I might splinter into a thousand pieces if I don’t get inside him right fucking now.
I instinctively try to use my broken arm to spread him open, huffing in frustration when I can’t.
“Tell me what you want,” Max says, twisting to look at me.
“Spread yourself,” I command. “Show me your hole.”
Max does as I say. His hole is dark and puckered, visibly tight and so clearly un-omega. No glistening slick to get him ready for me. But I have foresight. Because I’ve been thinking about this since way before I went into rut.
I drip the cum that’s pooled in my hand over his ass, watching it slide thickly down his crack. It coats his hole and runs down his taint to his balls, and I smear it over his rim, tracing a circle around the tight muscle until it’s winking at me.
“Oh shit,” Max groans, his grip on his cheeks slipping. “That’s so fucking hot, Ky. So fucking dirty.”
I use what’s left on my hand to slick my cock. My alpha is screaming at me to jam my dick inside him, to split him open and pump my hips until I’m breeding his needy hole. But the logical part of my brain is fighting back.
He’s not an omega. He’s not an omega. He’s not an omega.
I stare at his hole and the muscles of his ass and the curve of his waist, and I slide my cock between the warm meat of his asscheeks, and I hold myself back.
“Ky,” he says, half into the duvet, half into the air. “Take what you need. I fucking want it.”
I breathe out sharply through my nose. He’s still taking care of me, even now. And I may not be able to stop myself from fucking him, but if he can do this for me, then I can at least make it good for him.
I push a finger into his ass as slowly as I can manage, my mouth going slack as he clenches around the intrusion and makes a soft noise in his throat.
“More,” he whispers.
“Who’s in charge here, Max?” I say.
“You are, alpha,” he replies, shuddering as I push in deeper.
“Tell me how it feels.”
He hesitates as I pull back, only to push back in, right to the knuckle. He’s so hot inside. “Weird. Not bad.”
When he starts to push his ass back I add another finger alongside the first, my cock thickening as he buries his head in the bedcovers. When I feel him relax around two fingers, I add a third, stretching him out.
“A lot,” he says, sounding strained. “It feels like a lot.”
I crook my fingers, and he gasps, his hips jerking.