32. Kirill #4
Mikhail began to move—slowly at first, establishing the cadence, then harder, faster, each strike measured and deliberate.
The room filled with the heavy sound of their skin aligning and the sharp hiss of Kirill's breath. Reaching up, Mikhail tangled his fingers into Kirill’s hair just above the collar, pulling his head back to crush their mouths together.
It was a brutal, unpolished kiss of teeth and tongue.
The heat in Mikhail's lower abdomen flared, his biology taking over as his knot began to swell violently inside the Omega’s tight core. He snapped his hips forward one final time, burying himself to the root. The knot locked.
Mikhail pressed his face against Kirill’s wet ear, a low, victorious smile touching his lips. Wrapping his broad arm around Kirill’s chest, he shifted their weight, pulling them both down until they rolled onto the rough carpet, with Kirill pinned securely beneath him.
The knot was large, heavy, and completely unyielding inside Kirill's body.
Mikhail kept them hovering right on the edge of the sensory overload, his thumb stroking along Kirill's sharp jawline while his cock pulsed deep inside the slick, hot passage.
The minutes passed in an unsteady, heavy rhythm of shared breathing.
When the knot finally began to soften, Mikhail immediately resumed the pace, driving hard and fast. Kirill wrapped his legs tightly around Mikhail’s hips, pulling him deeper into the heat.
Mikhail groaned, a low, animal sound tearing from his chest as his body shuddered, dumping his release deep inside his Omega.
He buried his face in the crook of Kirill's neck, biting down hard enough to sting, marking him through the skin as Kirill arched beneath him and came in response.
They lay together on the floor for a long time, the desk lamp casting long, distorted shadows across the ceiling.
Mikhail’s head rested on Kirill’s shoulder, his heavy hand splayed across the Omega's damp stomach, tracking the slow rise and fall of their chests.
He felt Kirill's fingers trail lightly down his forearm, and Mikhail smiled against his skin.
When the street outside grew completely quiet, Mikhail got up first, his joints slightly stiff.
He reached down, took Kirill’s hand, and pulled him to his feet.
Kirill picked up Mikhail's discarded white undershirt from the floor and slid into it; it hung large and loose on his frame, the leather collar still buckled tightly around his throat beneath it.
Mikhail stepped into his trousers, leaving the top button undone, and threw his button-down shirt over his shoulders without fastening the cuffs.
Kirill walked to the window, shoving his hands into the pockets of Mikhail's oversized shirt.
Mikhail moved through the dim room, closing the open files on his desk, his bare feet quiet on the wood.
He walked over to stand directly behind his Omega.
Slipping his coat over his arm, Mikhail braced one heavy palm against the wall just behind Kirill's head, closing the frame once more.
He looked out into the snowy street, letting the dense, quiet heat of their shared bond settle between them.
“Two weeks from now,” Mikhail said, his voice dropping into a quiet, absolute register. “I will be done at the Ministry by five.”
Kirill glanced at him, a fleeting look of submission before his gaze drifted back to the glass. Outside, heavy, silent flakes of snow were beginning to fall, vanishing the moment they touched the dark asphalt below.
“Yes,” Kirill murmured.
Mikhail nodded, the decision finalized. He pushed his dark cuff back to check the sweep of his watch, then took his heavy woolen overcoat from his arm and shrugged it over his broad shoulders.
Beneath the wool, the cuffs of his shirt remained unfastened—a rare, private disorder left over from the hours they had just spent together.
Reaching into his pocket, his fingers wrapped around the cold metal of his car keys.
Step by step, the professional distance was re-establishing itself, but his biology wasn't finished. Mikhail stepped into the Omega's space, placing his massive hands on Kirill’s shoulders to turn him around. Kirill looked up instantly, his dark eyes wide and yielding in the low light. Mikhail’s thumb trailed along the edge of the thick leather collar securely buckled around Kirill's throat, his calloused skin brushing the fastening at the back of the neck to ensure it was set perfectly. Satisfied with the frame, he leaned down and took Kirill’s mouth.
The kiss was thorough. Unhurried. An Alpha marking what was his before a separation.
His hands remained heavy on Kirill's shoulders, anchoring him until Kirill's lips were slightly bruised and flushed. When Mikhail finally lifted his head, he let a rare, private corner of his mouth curl up. He ran his thumb slowly over Kirill’s damp lower lip, absorbing the last traces of his Omega's sweet vanilla scent.
“I will see you tomorrow,” Mikhail said.