3. Totally Not A Seduction
TOTALLY NOT A SEDUCTION
Emre yelped, shoving his hands over his crotch. He burned all over with embarrassment. “Oh gods! I, um. I forgot. I’m not trying to seduce you at my door, I promise.”
Zenith chuckled. “Yeah? If you were, you would’ve succeeded.”
Emre looked down at himself, but all he saw were the scars and stretchmarks on his body, and the stark roundness of his belly.
Did Zenith really find him attractive?
The alpha prowled closer, dark eyes fixed on him. Emre’s entire body grew hot. He backed away and turned, trying to remember where he had dropped his clothes.
“Mmm,” Zenith growled.
Emre peeked over his shoulder, only to find Zenith checking out his ass. He squawked.
“Hey, don’t worry,” Zenith murmured. “If you need a shirt, I’ve got one.”
Emre grabbed the nearest piece of fabric, but it was one of Abbie’s tiny towels. It barely covered his crotch.
“Here,” Zenith said.
Emre turned back. Zenith had pulled off his own shirt, and he was holding it out.
“Th-thanks.” A hot blush flooded Emre’s face. Awkwardly, he wrapped the thin shirt around himself. It was warm with Zenith’s body heat, and rich with Zenith’s scent—along with a hint of fresh alpha sweat. Emre wanted to ball it up and breathe it all in.
Maybe when he found some privacy.
Zenith watched brazenly as Emre buttoned up his shirt. It was huge on him, fitting snug around his belly, and it fell to mid-thigh.
“Would you mind if I had dinner with you?” Zenith asked, gesturing at the boxes he had set on the narrow kitchen counter.
“Um, sure? I don’t have any fancy tables and chairs,” Emre said awkwardly. His spindly chairs would probably collapse like toothpicks under Zenith’s weight.
“I can sit on the floor,” Zenith said.
“You can sit on my bed.” Emre froze when the words had left his mouth. “Um. I mean, my bed is in my living room. It’s like a futon except there’s no... actual furniture under it. But that just means it doesn’t squeak when I, um, move around on it.”
Then he realized how incriminating that sounded. Emre buried his face in his hands.
“Just shut me up,” he mumbled.
The alpha’s lips pulled into a slow smile. “I’ll sit on the floor.”
“The floor’s hard. It might hurt your perfect ass,” Emre blurted. “What if it doesn’t bounce back?”
Zenith’s eyebrows crawled higher, but he looked amused. “My ass is perfect?”
“It’s... round,” Emre whispered, cupping his hands to demonstrate. The next second, he wanted to sink through the floor. “Please just kill me.”
“I would rather have dinner with you,” Zenith said with a grin. “Let me dish out some food.”
He turned back to the counter and slid a huge, glistening steak onto a plate. The mashed potatoes smelled savory and buttery, and Emre was moaning even before he’d tasted any of it.
Zenith rumbled. “You really like my food.”
“I, uh. Yes. It smells amazing. Like it could make me cream my pants.”
They both looked down, where Emre wasn’t wearing any pants at all.
Emre blushed so hard, it went down his chest. He hurriedly found a pair of pants and struggled into them, leaning against the wall for support.
Was it him, or did Zenith’s bulge look bigger?
“Aren’t your pants crushing your balls?” Emre’s mouth said without his permission. “They look tight.”
Zenith huffed. “There’s enough space in there.”
“I’m not going to ask to check your pants,” Emre blurted, instantly regretting his entire existence. “I’m not going to ask if you’re wearing underwear, either.”
Zenith laughed, bright and hearty.
When the food was plated, Zenith brought it over to Emre’s bed, sitting on the opposite end of the mattress from Abbie. The pup looked at him curiously, then scampered over and sniffed his knee.
Zenith froze. He looked bewildered, then amazed. His face softened.
Emre accepted the smaller plate of food, his heart thumping. “That’s Abbie. She’s eight months old, and she likes being scratched behind her ears.”
Zenith carefully reached down to do that. Abbie wriggled around onto her back and nipped at his fingers; Zenith let her.
“Abbie! Don’t bite!” Emre yelped.
“It’s fine,” Zenith said, perfectly willing to be Abbie’s chew toy. No other alpha had been this laid-back about it. “She’s beautiful.” He grinned when she grew bored and raced off, his gaze drifting to Emre’s swollen belly. “Is your other baby also...?”
“Also a wolf pup.” Emre rubbed his belly. “Makes me crave raw meat.”
Zenith grinned, suddenly proud. “Your steak is rare; I only seared it on the outside.”
Emre’s heart fluttered. “That’s... You’re doing a lot for me.”
Zenith shrugged easily and didn’t look away. “You’re special.”
Emre didn’t know what to say to that, so he stuffed his steak into his mouth. And belatedly remembered his manners.
This left him staring awkwardly at Zenith, the slab of meat hanging from his teeth. “Um.”
Zenith laughed. “Go ahead and eat it. I just hope you’ll enjoy my food.”
Emre tore off some meat and swallowed, moaning at its tenderness. “It’s so good.”
Zenith cleared his throat, his gaze turning intent.
After a lifetime of his pack telling him he should behave primly and demurely so alphas would think he was acceptable, it was amazing to learn that he could drip steak juices everywhere, and Zenith would still look at him like he was desirable.
“Oh,” Emre mumbled, shocked.
He tried to eat more tidily and failed, but Zenith stuck around anyway, watching him and Abbie.
Actually, Zenith had pushed claws out of his own fingertips, and he was using them to carefully separate his steak into smaller pieces.
“You don’t use cutlery?” Emre blurted.
Zenith shrugged. “I thought I would try it this way, since you seem comfortable doing the same.”
Only then did Emre see the clean knives and forks on Zenith’s other side, forgotten.
He gulped, oddly touched.
Then he wondered what the chances were, that someone like Zenith would want a nobody like him. There was something other about Zenith, Emre knew. Something powerful and strong. It almost felt... familiar.
“How old are you?” he blurted.
“Not too old. A hundred and twelve.” A shadow flickered in Zenith’s eyes. Then the alpha blinked, and it was gone.
Emre gaped. “That’s ‘not old’?!”
Emre was twenty-three, and he thought he was plenty old. It felt crazy to imagine himself living five times as long. What would he be like at that age? Still a dad, just with two very old babies.
“My species is long-lived. Compared to my brothers, I’m terribly young.” Zenith smiled crookedly, his gaze sliding to Emre’s belly. “I would like to have a baby, though.”
Emre gulped. He had pups from two different alphas. Why would Zenith want him to carry his?
Or did the pups prove to Zenith that Emre was fertile?
“Why don’t you have a baby yet?” Emre asked. “I’m sure there are several omegas willing to give you one.”
“Like you?” Zenith’s smile grew.
Emre blushed so hot, he felt dizzy. “I-I’m not special.”
“Oh, you are.”
The alpha leaned in, sheer heat wafting off his body.
He pressed his nose to the sensitive spot behind Emre’s ear and inhaled deeply.
Then he rumbled and pulled away. “The reason I haven’t found a mate yet, is because my hoard isn’t big enough to court anyone.
Hell, my butler is part-time; I can’t afford him full-time yet. ”
“You have a butler?!” Emre’s jaw dropped. Then the rest of Zenith’s words sank in, and Emre grew indignant on his behalf. “If someone truly wanted you for who you are, they wouldn’t care how big your hoard is.”
“I seem to remember you sizing up my... dimensions,” Zenith said with a pointed look between his own legs.
Emre wanted the mattress to swallow him up. “It was right there! It was looking me in the eye! I just looked back!”
He couldn’t help it. The pregnancy wreaked havoc on his hormones. Most days, Emre dreamed about being stuffed full, except he didn’t trust many alphas after Ronald.
And it didn’t help that Zenith’s clothes kept showing off that thick length between his legs.
Zenith gave him a long look. “You have a point. I just... I need to be sure that I can provide for my mate.”
“My parents didn’t have much, but they were happy,” Emre said quietly.
“They were deeply in love. We lived in a small dump of a house, on the outskirts of town, and our roof always leaked. There was always a draft coming in through the windows. But my Ma and Pa were always smiling around each other; they kept touching like they couldn’t stand to be apart. I want what they had.”
Zenith’s gaze softened. “I would’ve loved to meet them.”
Emre sagged. “I miss them so much sometimes, it really hurts.”
Zenith reached over then, wrapping his arm around Emre’s shoulders. “What happened?”
“There was a fire,” Emre said quietly. “Someone set the forest ablaze, and my pack was trapped inside. I was the only one who didn’t burn because I left the pack territory that day, on an errand for my parents.”
Zenith swore and set his plate down, pulling Emre into his lap. “Fuck. Who started that fire?”
“Some human psychopath.” Emre buried his face in Zenith’s shoulder, glass shards in his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it. But she’s in jail now, locked away for life.”
Zenith growled, hugging Emre tightly. “I wish I could’ve done something.”
“There’s not much you can do now,” Emre said heavily.
Zenith ran his large hands up and down Emre’s back, until the ache faded and Emre could breathe more easily. Zenith continued to rub his back, then his arms too, leaving layers upon layers of his scent on Emre’s skin.
Their entwined scents smelled... really good. As the minutes slipped by, Emre slowly became aware that he was pressed against Zenith’s strong, bare chest. It was just as solid as it looked.
Zenith felt really safe. Safer than Emre had been in years.
Before Ronald, ever since the fire had happened.
After a while, Zenith shifted against him. “I don’t mean to pry. Just... You mentioned a huge fire. Are you still... Did that attack give you a fear of open flame?”
Emre shuddered. “Kind of, yeah.”
“Oh,” Zenith said.
Something about his tone...