8. Feels Like Heat
FEELS LIKE HEAT
Emre realized the mistake he had made, three seconds after he’d shoved his fingers into himself.
It wasn’t enough.
His fingers were short and slender; he’d crammed enough of them into his hole for the stretch to be noticeable.
But they weren’t big and hard like an alpha’s cock.
He couldn’t reach his sweet spot with the angle he had, and he’d left his dildo back at his apartment because he never anticipated staying this long.
Sure, he could sneak back over to retrieve his toy. But that meant leaving Zenith’s bedroom, tiptoeing past the alpha sleeping on the couch, to open the front door.
Zenith would wake up. He would discover what Emre was doing.
Emre’s face scorched.
He huddled into Zenith’s bed, his hole aching. The alpha’s scent didn’t help—all that smoky musk, with the distinct scents of sex and cum—it made his body desperate to be filled.
Zenith had offered to change out the sheets. Emre had declined because it was too much trouble.
Had Zenith seen through his weak excuse? Did he know Emre wanted to sniff out the scent of his cock?
Emre squirmed, sitting upright so he could grind his cock against Zenith’s bed, at the same time he fingered himself. It still wasn’t enough.
All day, he had peeked at Zenith’s strong arms, his generous pecs, his strong thighs. And that bulge of his...
Gods, what wouldn’t Emre give to be pinned down by that alpha, his legs spread, his hole stretched around Zenith’s thick cock?
He bit his lip and swallowed his whimper, squirming against the bath towel he’d laid down to catch his slick.
If he could just come, if he could just take the edge off...
Zenith had been in this very bed last night, fucking into his fists, his cock wet with precum. His mattress had squeaked loudly from the force of his thrusts. If he were here right now, if he were on top of Emre, mounting him and sliding in...
Please, Emre wanted to say. Please come in and fuck me.
He shoved his fist against his mouth, feeling so empty that he could cry.
“Please,” he whispered, biting his lip before another sound could slip out.
“Emre?” Zenith murmured from the living room.
Heat jolted through Emre’s body. His hole squeezed tight.
He buried his face in Zenith’s pillow. “I-I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.” Zenith sounded concerned. “You’ve been making uncomfortable sounds for a while now.”
Had he been listening this whole time? Had he heard Emre beg?
Emre blushed all over. “I...”
“Would you like me to come in there?”
Emre’s breath rushed out. “Yes,” he blurted.
“You can come—um. Come anywhere. Inside or outside.” He grew so hot that he squirted precum all over the towel.
Then he realized that Zenith meant coming into the bedroom.
“I mean,” he squeaked. “Into the bedroom. Your bedroom. Sh-shouldn’t you be sleeping? ”
Zenith hesitated. “You should be sleeping, too.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
The alpha gave a low, breathless chuckle. “Why aren’t you?”
“You’re not supposed to answer my question with more questions!”
“And we’re supposed to be talking about this. I’m coming in.”
The thought of Zenith pushing inside him, filling him up with cock... It was almost too much. Emre leaked all over the towel, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out all over his skin. Then he realized that Zenith would see him like this, naked and desperate, with his fingers still inside himself.
Slow, heavy footsteps approached the bedroom. They stopped at the door, and Zenith knocked.
He’s right outside. Emre squirmed. He pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the towel, swallowing hard. “C-come in.”
The door creaked open. Emre clutched at the sheets. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, because there was enough moonlight streaming through the window for his night vision.
How much could Zenith see, though? Surely he must’ve seen enough, because he froze in the doorway, exhaling sharply like he’d been punched in the gut.
Emre twitched self-consciously. Which part of his body was Zenith looking at? His thin limbs? His leaking nipples? Or his hard cock, red and desperate for touch?
“Sweetheart,” Zenith growled, stepping in. “Tell me what you need.”
There was a hard line in Zenith’s sleep pants, and it was so big.
It would stretch Emre perfectly, and hammer against his sweet spot.
Emre shuddered. “I-I need.” He took a few sobbing breaths. “Your cock.”
“Fuck.” Zenith groaned, glancing around the room. He found Buttwheel and Abbie in the corner—Emre had parked the shopping cart there, with half of Abbie’s blanket draped over the side of Buttwheel’s basket so even if Abbie woke up, she wouldn’t be able to see what he was doing.
“Mind if I move them out of the bedroom?” Zenith said.
“Just not too far away.”
“Kitchen?” At Emre’s nod, Zenith guided the cart out of the bedroom. “Got a new job for you, Buttwheel,” Zenith murmured. “Keep Abbie safe in here, all right? No sudden movements, keep still if you can. Try not to wake her up.”
Buttwheel squeaked one wheel very quietly.
“Good cart,” Zenith whispered.
Footsteps thudded back to the bedroom. When Zenith filled the doorway again, Emre’s hole squeezed.
“You and that doorway are like your cock and my hole,” Emre’s mouth said. “It’s almost like you’re too big to fit.”
It struck him that he had said all those words without meaning to. Emre whimpered, pulling a pillow over his head.
The alpha rumbled. “Oh? Are we finally talking about this?”
“There’s nothing to talk about!”
“Mm-hm. And I didn’t spend all of last night listening to that dildo sliding inside your pretty hole.”
Slick gushed out of Emre. He whined and pressed his legs together, but that didn’t stop the rustling sounds on the other side of the room.
When he peeked, he found Zenith shedding his shirt.
Zenith’s body was all hard lines, flat nipples on lush pecs, his abs clearly defined.
A trail of dark hair dusted his skin and disappeared under his waistband.
His shoulders rolled and his biceps flexed.
When he stepped out of his pants, his thighs flexed powerfully, his cock jutting up thick and red, like it was eager to burrow deep into Emre’s ass.
“Oh gods,” Emre breathed, unable to tear his eyes off the precum smeared all over Zenith’s cock. It was glistening, still dripping, and if some of that wetness shot into Emre’s body... “Need. Need you inside.”
“Yeah?” Zenith dropped his underwear and straightened, letting Emre feast his eyes. He was so naked, every glorious inch of skin visible. “Which part of me do you need inside you?”
“Th-there’s more than one part?” Emre squeaked from under the pillow.
Zenith’s smirk would’ve melted Emre’s panties, if he were still wearing them. “Your choice. There’s my tongue.” He flicked it across his lower lip, soft and wet. “My fingers.” He raised his hand and crooked two fingers in a come-hither motion; heat flooded between Emre’s legs. “And my cock.”
He wrapped his fingers around the base of his thick length, stroking it base to tip. Precum dripped onto the floor.
Emre whined; his legs opened on instinct. He rolled onto all fours and angled his hips up like an offering.
“Fuck.” In seconds, Zenith was upon him, pinning Emre down with his entire body, all hot skin, his chest on Emre’s back, his velvety cock sliding along Emre’s inner thigh. Emre whimpered, dripping onto it.
But Zenith didn’t touch his sensitive parts immediately. Instead, he braced his weight with one hand on the bed, splaying his other hand across Emre’s chest. Zenith smoothed his fingertips over Emre’s collarbones and reached up to cup his throat, demanding submission.
Emre tipped his head back and pushed his neck against Zenith’s hand. Zenith swore, and the scent of his precum filled the air.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to touch you since the moment I saw you,” Zenith growled in his ear.
Ever so lightly, he stroked Emre’s throat, acknowledging Emre’s submission.
Then he slid his hand down to rub Emre’s tingling nipples.
“Your pert nipples—” he squeezed both, tugging until milk trickled down his fingers and Emre writhed “—your round belly—” he trailed his hand lower, smoothing his palm in a wide circle to cover Emre’s belly with his scent “—your hard, hungry little cock.”
Instead of touching it, Zenith slid his hand down Emre’s inner thigh, sending a cascade of tingles through Emre’s skin. He nudged Emre’s legs wider, baring Emre’s hole completely, with nothing between them.
Emre clutched at the sheets. “P-please touch me.”
“But I am touching you,” Zenith murmured. “Maybe you should tell me where you want my hand.”
Emre’s face burned. “On m-my c-cock.”
The anticipation made him throb, his balls tight and aching.
“That’s it. You’re so good for me.” Zenith dragged his hand back to Emre’s balls, cupping and squeezing them, before running his fingertips up the sensitive underside of Emre’s length. “Is this enough?”
Emre panted, bliss racing down his nerves. “M-more.”
Slowly, Zenith closed his fist around Emre, stroking him from base to tip. Precum shot out of Emre and went everywhere; it was all he could do to hold still, throbbing against Zenith’s palm.
“Good?” Zenith whispered.
“S-so good.” Emre’s voice broke. “Better than when I t-touch myself.”
Zenith groaned. “Fuck, the thought of you touching yourself... So fucking hot. Last night, I jerked off while listening to you moan. Then I thought I was done, except you began moaning again. I was content to just listen, you know? But you kept coming. And coming. And I was hard again before I knew it, my cock aching to plow inside you. So I jerked off again. Then you started up again, and my cock grew hard again. It’s like your moans went straight to my cock every single time.
Here, feel how hard I am for you right now. ”
He thrust lightly against Emre’s thigh, heavy and hungry. Emre whined.