Kyle
For the next twenty-four hours, Max won’t let me fuck him in any position which requires the use of my arms. Which means that over the next twenty-four hours, Max becomes very, very adept at riding dick.
For the first few rounds he wouldn’t even let me stroke him off while he rode me, swatting my hand away every time I tried to wrap my fist around his weeping cock, but he eventually gave in when I promised to eat something and let him drag me into the shower if he’d let me make him come.
“I’m getting major déjà vu,” I grumble as Max switches the shower on, my belly full of the annoyingly healthy soup he forced down my throat half an hour ago. My cock is already hard against my stomach again despite Max getting me off four times since this morning, my rut nearly cresting its peak.
There’s a restless energy crawling under my skin that only seems to calm down when some part of my body is connected to, on top of or inside Max, and currently I’m none of those things and feeling like I’m on the verge of losing it.
“Let me see it one last time,” I growl, kneeling on the tiles behind him.
“You’re just gonna fill me up again after this,” he chuckles, but he leans forward slightly anyway, letting me spread his cheeks. “I won’t be clean for long.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I mumble, a totally irrational pang of despair slicing through me at the thought of washing all the cum I’ve deposited on his body down the drain.
I stare hungrily at his hole, slightly swollen from use and still dripping with my seed from less than an hour ago.
His inner thighs are streaked with it, sticky and dirty and perfect and thoroughly mine.
My alpha settles slightly under my skin at the sight, satisfied.
“Water’s warm,” he murmurs, looking down at me with cheeks that are as pink as his well-used hole. I lick a fat stripe over his hole, tasting myself, and he rewards me with a full-body shudder.
I crowd him against the tiles once I’ve dragged myself away from staring at his ass, attaching my lips to one of his peaked nipples and pinching the other between my fingers as he angles the spray away from my cast. I’ll probably be embarrassed by how shameless I’m being about wanting to worship every part of his body once my rut has calmed down, but right now the need to be attached to him feels like a biological necessity.
Max chokes slightly when I clamp my teeth around his nipple, but he lets me do it, using the opportunity to pour shampoo over my hair and massage my scalp gently, the sensation making me hum against his chest.
“I wanna fuck you,” I mutter against his skin, not caring about the water splashing in my face.
“I know,” he says. “I want you to. But I, uh, think I need a break. Just until I’m not so sore. I’m not—I’m not an omega, you know.”
He says it like he’s trying to make a joke, be lighthearted about it, but I know Max better than anyone, and I can hear the hesitation in his voice as clearly as if he’d just shouted “I feel guilty about not being able to fuck my friend right now” through a megaphone.
I lift my head up so I can look him dead in the eye, taking his jaw in my fingers. God, he’s pretty. Almond eyes, perfect slope of a nose, masculine jaw. I’ve always been able to appreciate that he’s a good-looking alpha, but finally allowing myself to see him as fucking hot is something else.
“No,” I say firmly. “You’re not. I don’t need an omega, I need you. Do you think an omega would have been able to pin me down and ride me like a demon so I didn’t break my fucking arm all over again?”
He smiles slightly, water dripping off the end of his nose. “No, probably not. Luckily I’ve got experience beating you in a fight. And at pool. And at—”
“Shut up,” I chuckle. “And do you think an omega could have anticipated every single thing I need before I even know it?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “Probably not.”
“Definitely not. You’re an alpha. We’re the same. No omega’s ever taken care of me the way you have. I wouldn’t want them even if they could; they wouldn’t be you.”
The corners of Max’s eyes crease, and then he’s kissing me with a mumbled, “dumbass” against my lips, hard and soft all at once.
I think back on the last time we were in this shower; looking at him glistening and gorgeous among the steam and feeling his hand wrapped tightly around me.
The way my body had reacted to him more strongly than it had to any omega I can ever remember being with.
It’s hard to remember how conflicted it had made me feel, because he’s fucking Max. Best friend forever, only person alive who’s seen me cry, been his wingman more times than I can count Max.
I don’t feel conflicted now. I can’t really even remember why I ever did, because it seems so fucking obvious now that nobody else could ever compare to him.
Max cleans me thoroughly, washing all the sweat and dried fluids off my body with gentle hands, and letting me do the same to him even though I’ve only got one hand to do it with.
My alpha is pissed at cleaning the evidence of my rut off him, but if it has to be done, somehow it feels better that I’m the one doing it.
I take my time soaping him up, moving my hands over his body indulgently. I take extra care around his rim, spending longer than is probably necessary to make sure he’s completely clean, my cock throbbing painfully as I push my fingers inside slowly and watch his eyes roll back.
I’m about to turn off the water when he drops to his knees.
“You don’t have to do that, Maxie,” I say, running my fingers through his short, wet strands. “I can take care of it.”
“I kinda want to,” he mutters, a little bashfully. Cute is not a word I’d ever use to describe Max, but looking down at him blushing and on his knees for me, it sort of fits. “You know when I sucked you off yesterday, it was the first time I’d ever done that, right?”
A satisfied growl rumbles from within my chest. “Damn right.”
He grins. “Yeah, well. I, uh—I think, maybe—”
He hesitates, looking uncharacteristically shy again.
“What?” I encourage.
“I think maybe I don’t have a gag reflex.”
My eyes go wide, my cock visibly throbbing right in front of his face. “What?”
“Yeah, I just didn’t feel it. Didn’t matter how deep you were in my throat, I think I could have just… kept going. You didn’t give me much of a chance to test the theory, though.”
“Oh fuck off,” I balk. “I’m in rut, I came quickly, you would have done the same.”
“Sure,” he says sardonically, and I grunt as he takes my cock in his hand. “But I’ve been thinking about it ever since.”
Damn. The idea of him thinking about blowing me, wanting to do it, affects me way beyond simple lust. “So you’re saying you love sucking my dick.”
“I’m saying that I think I’m going to be exceptionally good at it. As expected. Significantly better than you.”
“I’ve never wanted someone to be so right and so wrong at the same time,” I laugh, but it turns into a groan when he wraps his lips around the fat head of my cock, swirling his tongue experimentally. “Okay, I think I want you to be right more.”
He hums a laugh around my length and the vibration travels all the way to my soul. Then he starts to move, sinking down a little further on every downstroke, his tongue flat against the vein that runs up the underside of my shaft.
And holy shit. When my crown nudges his throat, he doesn’t even flinch.
He just swallows around me like he’s been doing this forever, and sinks all the way to the fucking balls, until his nose is buried in the coarse thatch of hair right at the base.
His throat is impossibly tight, and hot, and wet, and I cannot come as quickly as I did the first time.
I can’t give him the satisfaction, but even more than that, I need to make this fucking insane feeling last.
He slides back off me until just the tip is resting against his tongue, and then his hands slide around to grip my ass and he’s fucking pulling me in, digging his fingers into the meat of my cheeks so I’ll drive my cock back into his bottomless pit of a mouth.
I don’t need much encouragement. I plunge back into that scalding wet vacuum, tipping my head back against the tiles as he engulfs me all the way to the root like it’s nothing, his throat contracting around my shaft like it was crafted to my exact specifications.
A hoarse groan rips out of me and echoes around the small space, steam rising all around us as my grip tightens in Max’s hair.
The only way to describe what happens next is that I brutally, relentlessly fuck his throat.
The shower is filled with the filthy sounds of my cock driving wetly into his mouth and back out again on repeat, my heavy balls slapping against his chin.
The hot water cascades down my back, soothing my sore, overworked muscles, and Max’s throat works tirelessly to catapult me toward what might be the most intense orgasm of my rut, if not my entire goddamn life.
“Fuck, Max,” I growl, looking down again so I can watch the lewd way my cock totally disappears between his lips. “You’re a fucking menace.”
I know I’m done for when he looks back up at me.
Those dark eyes, glassy and glinting with a wicked competitive edge which still has the ability to piss me off, even when I’m drowning in absolute ecstasy, staring up at me like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me and he’s loving every second of proving how much power he has over me.
It’s pornographic, an image tailored specifically to make me lose my shit in record time.
My hips start twitching on their own, the pleasure coiling faster than I can get a handle on.
“Shit, I’m gonna blow, Max—”
I try to pull back, but Max tightens his grip on my ass and pulls me as deep as I can go, still staring at me with eyes that are just beginning to tear up, and I lose it.
I barrel over the edge so hard it’s all I can do to cling to his hair and pray my legs don’t give way as I shoot down his throat, the sensation of him swallowing around me pushing me into a whole other level of sensitivity.
It’s unbearable. Sickeningly good. So mind-numbingly hot that I might never be able to look at Max again without getting pissed off by how fucking incredible he is at this.
He looks way too pleased with himself when he leans back on his heels, wiping his mouth with his forearm and reaching over to turn the water off as I sag back against the wall.
“So I win, right?” he smirks.
“Fuck off.”
“I’m the better blowjob-giver. I don’t think you can deny it after that.”
“This is not the time to be challenging me, dude. I’m an alpha in rut, I’ll fight you, I swear to god.”
“No, you won’t. I just drained all the fight right out of your balls.”
He’s not wrong. My legs have turned to jello, and the thought of fighting Max makes me feel a little queasy. I help him up to his feet, sliding a hand up his abs just because I can. “You’ve had more practice than me.”
He snorts. “By exactly one blowjob. Feel free to even the score any time you like.” I grab his ass as we step out of the shower, fully ready and willing to prove I can do better, but he swats me away, laughing. “Actually, give me a couple hours, my dick is sore as hell.”
Probably just as well, because deep down I know I could never, ever top whatever magic he just performed. Not that that’s going to stop me from trying, because I’d rather die than admit defeat.
“Movie?” he asks, toweling off my hair for me. “I think we could both do with looking at something other than your bedroom walls for a couple hours.”
“Sure,” I say, because nothing in the world sounds better than crashing out to a movie with Max next to me right now. “I’m not promising I’ll make it through an entire movie without jumping you, though.”
“I’d be offended if you didn’t, at this point,” he grins, and something about that makes warmth flare right in my gut. “I’m picking the movie, though.”
I groan, letting him dry off my legs before I tug on a pair of loose shorts. “You’re gonna pick a kung-fu movie, aren’t you?”
“Fuck yes I am.”
“It’s gonna be a Bruce Lee film, isn’t it?”
“Ding ding ding! Hey, don’t look at me like that, I’ve earned it.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t exactly argue with that.