Max #2
The kiss turns heated quickly, Kyle’s scent flaring strongly around us, his rut on the way out but not entirely over yet.
My mind takes on that hazy quality that’s become familiar since I walked into a room thick with Kyle’s rut pheromones for the first time, my cock hardening despite my exhaustion; it’s a response I don’t quite understand, but god knows I’m not fighting it.
“Maxie,” he growls, his teeth scraping hard against the skin of my throat, the nickname on his lips, in this context, sending a dirty thrill through me. He's panting now, his body burning against mine as the last embers of his fever ignite the lingering instinct to claim me.
“Take what you need,” I mumble, helping him pull off his shorts and kicking off my own in record time. The moan I let out when our cocks slide together, slick with precum and searing hot, is totally unabashed, neither of us holding anything back anymore.
“Fuck,” he rasps, sounding feral as his teeth nip at my neck. “I need to mark you. I need everyone to fucking know.”
Oh, fuck. The thought of it makes my whole body tremble; the idea of Kyle’s teeth sinking into my neck, and walking around with matching mating bites on our necks…
my cock throbs, my hole clenching around nothing.
But even if we want it, it’s not something we can have—it would be useless at best, dangerous at worst.
“Hey,” I pant, catching his jaw with my palm and forcing him to look at me. His eyes are dark and wild. “You can't bite me. We're both alphas.”
“I don't care,” he growls, his chest heaving against mine. “I need to claim you, Max. Right fucking now.”
I smile softly, my entire body sensitive and alive, running my thumb over his cheek. “Then fuck me, mark me, bruise me,” I say, my voice low in his ear, loving the way he shivers against me in response. “Claim me in every other way you can.”
I don’t give him a chance to hurt himself by pinning me to the mattress like I know he desperately wants to.
I roll onto him instead, bracketing my legs around his hips and grabbing the nearly-empty bottle of lube we thankfully found in the back of Kyle’s bedside cabinet, reaching back to slick us both up as quickly as I can.
Then, I guide his heavy, swollen length straight to my entrance, and sink down on him in one fluid, agonizingly sweet movement.
Kyle lets out a wrecked sound, pulling me down and into the crook of his neck as he buries himself to the hilt. He’s big, thicker than I ever thought I’d be able to take, but I stretch to accommodate him almost like I was built for it, and the sensation is so much and so, so good.
“You’re fucking mine,” he murmurs against my neck as he starts to fuck into me in long, brutal strokes, and hearing him say it feels even better when I know it’s really true.
“Yours, Ky,” I murmur into his neck, helpless against the powerful thrust of his hips and each burning jolt of pleasure that rips through me every time his blunt cockhead brushes against my prostate. “Fucking take it.”
Kyle drops his mouth to my neck, locking his lips right over my scent gland.
He sucks with a hungry, punishing pressure.
He drags his tongue across the skin, laving over the spot before sucking again, forcing what I can only guess is a dark bruise to the surface until my entire neck throbs with every touch of his lips.
A low, guttural groan breaks out of my throat at the sensation, the suddenness of my orgasm taking me completely by surprise as my cock jerks where it’s trapped between our bodies, spilling thickly against Kyle’s stomach.
Kyle’s right behind me. He arches into me with a broken groan, spilling his final load deep inside me as my own release smears hotly between us.
I push back against him, taking him as deep as I can and relishing in the burn as my sore hole stretches around his base while he rides out the final tremors of his rut.
We lie together as we both come down, chest to chest, our breathing slowing in unison. I run my fingers through his damp hair, feeling the hot sting of his mark on my neck.
“That was intense,” Kyle huffs against my neck, his hand stroking down my back and making me shudder happily.
“It was fucking hot.”
I can feel how wide his smile is against my skin. “I want you to do it to me when I’m out of my rut.”
I hum, practically vibrating with satisfaction. “You want my mark, alpha?”
“I want all of it,” he says, pinching my side. “Want you to mark me up. Fuck me.”
I lift my head up, raising my eyebrows at him. “Really?”
He stares back at me, looking a little offended. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? You’ve done it, it can’t be that difficult.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snort, dropping my head back to his chest. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll never want to top again.”
“We’ll see,” he chuckles.
We lie in silence for a while. I listen to the steady thump of his heart against my chest as he plays with my hair lazily. It’s so far from where we were this time six weeks ago I feel like I should be more freaked out by the domesticity of it, by the fucking sweetness of it. But I’m just… not.
“It’s wild, though, when you really think about it,” Kyle mutters, his voice dropping low as his fingers trace mindless patterns over my forearm. “Two alphas… we should want to kill each other. Any textbook or doc would tell you our instincts should be tearing this room apart.”
I shift to look at him, the corner of my mouth twitching up. “I’ve never felt like that about you, Ky. Not even when I was fifteen and my hormones went crazy and I wanted to rip every other alpha’s head off just for breathing the wrong way.”
Kyle lets out a soft, breathy laugh, but his eyes stay serious, fixed on the blooming mark he just sucked into my throat.
“My doctor said something weird at that checkup I had a couple weeks ago,” he says pensively.
“He was looking at my X-rays, and he asked me if I had a mate at home. Said my arm and wrist were knitting together nearly twice as fast as they should be for an injury this bad. He thought I had an omega at home smothering me with bonding pheromones 24/7.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”
“Told him I wasn't mated, and that my alpha beast of a best friend had been taking care of me,” Kyle grins. “Guy looked at me like I was fucking with him. Told me that kind of accelerated cellular repair only happens under the care of a permanently bonded, mated pair. Strictly alpha and omega.”
He reaches up, his thumb brushing over the dark mark on my neck, the dull burn of it making a satisfied growl vibrate in my chest.
“Maybe some things are beyond biology,” I rumble softly, leaning down to press my lips against his temple. “Maybe some things don’t have to make sense.”
“Yeah,” Kyle whispers, his chest heaving in a deep, contented sigh as he pulls me down flush against him. “Maybe it’s just us.”