Hunter
“What on earth is going on here?” Blake asks as he walks into our lounge, coming to a stop with his shake in one hand and protein bar poking out of his pocket.
It’s a typical Sunday afternoon, where Evans is sitting on the floor with a giant bowl of popcorn between his legs while I lay across the sofa—fully dressed—and we catch up on some game time.
“What do you mean?” Evans asks, turning to look at our housemate with a frown, giving me the perfect opportunity to take the lead in our race. Sucker!
Gossip was rife on campus already. We may not have seen people around us, but they had definitely been watching if the photos that had been posted on PikSnap were anything to go by.
Reaching down into the bowl I steal a handful of popcorn. “Did you know that manatees Have "Salad Tong" lips?”
Blake just blinks at me, while Evans frowns, trying to picture it no doubt. “What the fuck dude…”
We look at one another, Evans and I cataloguing the damage we’ve each done and the tips of Evans ears turn pink as he shrugs. “Yeah, we kind of fought it out and we’re over it now.”
Blake stares at me, but I ignore him. Let him burn a hole in my face, I was about to take first place. Again. “That doesn’t explain why Hunter is fully dressed, though?”
“I’m working on my boundaries, I’ll have you know.” I push myself up onto my elbows so I can look at him with a solemn expression. “I read the feedback in the housemate survey, and I’m taking it very, very seriously.”
Arching a brow at me, Blake flips me off so I stick my tongue out, flashing him my piercing with a snicker.
Evans looks between us, eyebrows crinkled together. “There was a survey?”
“Hmmm,” Blake hums before heading back into the kitchen, mumbling something about ‘fucking alpha assholes’ under his breath.
“Hey,” Evans nudges me with the controller, and I try not to inhale the lingering lime scent that clings to him. “I didn’t get a survey. Was it emailed?”
Laughing, I toss a cushion at him. I don’t know what Blake’s deal is, he wanted us to be friends and now we are. Is it awkward? Hell yes, especially after last night.
Evans says we fought it out and we’re over it but that’s only because he doesn’t know that our little wrestling match had left me harder than steel.
Sitting on top of him, feeling his muscular body between my thighs and staying still had taken all of my willpower.
It had been a testament to my restraint that I hadn’t just taken what I wanted from him.
When I left, climbing off him and walking away without another word, I didn’t even make it home. Instead, I’d been forced to take a detour to my workshop where I barely managed to close the door, before I was leaning back against it with my jeans open and my cock in hand.
Every touch, every snarl as we’d wrestled had made my dick throb. When I had him pinned to the kitchen island, there was an overwhelming urge to lean in and sink my teeth into the back of his neck. Just the thought of him wearing my mating mark makes my mouth water, even now.
What was he doing to me?
When he had me pinned to the refrigerator, I had to stop myself from wrapping my legs around his waist and climbing him like a tree.
There’s something about fucking another alpha that is so…
Powerful. They aren’t delicate and fragile like an omega, they don’t need the same level of care and softness.
Alpha’s are brutal, raw and the connection when you’re fucking one is so visceral.
It’s carnal as fuck, and sometimes, that’s what I want.
Tightening my fist, I pumped my shaft. My cock was slick and sticky with precum as I worked myself over thinking about the way the bergamot scent got stronger when I’d pinned him against the counter, his arousal mixed with confusion as his body heat seeped into mine. So close and yet so far.
Flicking my thumb over my Prince Albert piercing, I moan loudly. There was no one here to hear me, and I’d already been holding myself back. He was making a mess of me and he wasn’t even here.
I pump faster, harder, stopping only to tug on my balls or twist my piercing.
My orgasm barrels into me like a freight train, leaving me breathless.
Another side effect of being dominant was the amount of cum I produced.
In all honesty, I was surprised I hadn’t popped my knot, given how much my alpha nature was scratching at the surface right now.
After I’d made a mess of my hand, and shot what seemed like a gallon of cum all over my floor, I'd sat at my workbench with my sketchbook and committed every line to paper.
When I finished hours later, I'd drawn two alphas fighting for dominance, naked of course. I’d had to make myself come twice more before I left and headed back to the house.
My dominant alpha instincts simmering beneath the surface the entire time.
I kept telling myself I just needed to get it out of my system.
One more fantasy, one more memory of that night and then I would tuck it all away for good.
He had made his feelings clear, and what I thought was potential between us, was just friendship for him.
He’d drawn those boundaries, that line in the sand and I needed to listen to that.
Evans lived in a different world to me. His life was more rigid, more refined.
I knew that. I’d always known that. His father, Harrison, had strict ideals and ideas about who Evans was.
And unlike me, or Zale, he was only too happy to comply and stuff himself into the box he’d been designated at birth.
Because of that, Evans was out of my reach, even though he was sitting right next to me. And I had to live with that.
I wasn’t lying when I told Blake I was trying to be more considerate, but it’s not just for my housemates.
It’s for myself and my weak will. My dominant side meant I was inclined to listen to my base instincts.
The instincts that told me to take what I wanted.
To force him to submit. If Evans looks at me with even the slightest bit of interest, all bets would be off.
I would have him pinned beneath me quicker than you could say ‘Pembroke holdings’.
I’d claim him in front of everyone, scandal be damned.
And it would be a scandal.
Alphas didn’t claim other alphas.
Sure, we fucked around, but even that was still shrouded in secrecy, spoken of in hushed whispers like it was some taboo act, instead of what it was. Sex. Powerful, hedonistic sex. Goddess, I was way too horny to be laying here like this with him. But he smelled so good.
“Is everything really okay?” Evans asks, his voice low and hesitant as I realise I’ve zoned out inside my own head.
Is everything okay?
Not really, but that’s not on him.
I knew it was going to be a challenge, pushing my feelings, and my alpha urges aside. I wasn’t an idiot, despite what the others thought.
Clearing my throat and pushing to my feet I’m careful not to brush against him. “Yeah, of course it is. I just remembered that I need to call my sister back and arrange lunch next week.”
It wasn’t a lie.
It just wasn’t the full truth either.
“Cool,” he nods, stretching out before shoveling another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “I’m meeting Zale at the gym soon anyways, so let's just finish up here and call it a draw.”
Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I fire off a kick ‘You free?’ text to my sister. “Fucker, that was not a draw. I creamed your ass.”
He straightens, going stiff for a split second and if I hadn’t been looking right at him I might have missed it. Cute. “Nah man, Blake came in and distracted us. The last race was void, which means it was a draw.”
Ignore it.
Ignore him, I tell myself.
“Yeah.” He’s not mine. He won’t ever be. “Whatever you say.”
This time it’s my turn to run like there’s a fire beneath me. I shove my sketchbook and my pencils in my bag, put my sneakers on and leave the house before he’s even turned the console off and gotten up off the floor.
Practically speedwalking towards my workshop, I ignore the alpha instincts rising within me, demanding that I return to the house. Pressing the call button, I distract myself.
“What’s this?” my sister‘s teasing voice comes down the line, with a chuckle. “Is the late, great Hunter Ashbourne calling me first? I’m truly honored, good sir.”
I hadn't given her a chance to reply to my text, just hoped that she’d have some time to help me occupy my brain.
“Have you been watching those smutty historical romances again?” I scoff, knowing that she’d been obsessing over some regency romance TV drama lately with my mom lately.
It was a whole thing apparently, because my dad was now talking about hosting a themed ball for their wedding anniversary.
“You’re an idiot because I’m not dead. But I’ll take the praise. ”
Campus is busy today as I weave through the bodies of people coming and going, but that’s not a surprise.
The weather is warm, so people have gathered to have picnics, play football or do yoga on the grass.
I don’t bother making eye contact with anyone as I walk, eager to lock myself inside my studio.
And not because I’m going to jerk off again. Although, I might.
“What’s up big brother? It’s not like you to call me first. Usually I have to beg for scraps of your attention.” The words are exaggerated and elongated, like she’s savoring them. Let’s just say an Oscar was not in my sister's future. Neither was a career as a comedian.
“Ivii Grace you are so dramatic,” I roll my eyes, middle naming her like my father does when she’s in trouble. “Nothing’s up, I’m just heading over to my workshop.”
Except, you know, I’m trying not to cross boundaries with my housemate. The boundaries we only just agreed on after a month of tension and avoidance.
Oh, and I’m trying to rein in my alpha instincts. Because something about him is sending me out of whack and I’m lowkey horny all of the time. Horny or mildly depressed. There seems to be no in between.