He was the man Oberon King had paid a small fortune to possess.
“No womb.” Fenrir’s thighs squeezed around his waist, his inner walls clenching in a poor attempt to push Oberon’s drilling cock out. “King, you’re going to break me! Please!”
Break him? Yes, that was true. He was breaking him in. Molding his precious omega to take him the way he liked. The way he needed. In a way that would turn this willful omega desperate and addicted to O and all that he had to offer.
“Alpha!” Fenrir did the unthinkable, clearly at his wits' end, and lifted his head, sealing his mouth over Oberon’s in their second, albeit sloppy, lip lock.
The kiss was brief, pointed, and left a lingering hint of those sweet omega pheromones on Oberon’s skin.
“Oh.” Alpha. He liked the sound of that. Liked the sound of his omega calling to him by title respectfully.
Detested the idea of Fenrir ever daring to address another in that same, breathy, pleading tone.
Following his instincts was how Oberon had survived this long, so leaning into them was second nature by this point. That was why, when it finally hit him what he was really feeling, how he could use those impulses ingrained in his nature to his advantage, he didn’t hesitate or question it.
Didn’t doubt himself.
Oberon pulled out and left his omega writhing, gone only long enough to retrieve a second pill, which he’d stashed in his pants pocket. Without hesitation, he took it, standing at the end of the bed for a moment, waiting for the effects of the drug to kick in.
“What are you doing?” Fenrir’s hands were rubbing at his nipples, his hips gyrating, the heat keeping him in such an aroused state that he couldn’t help himself despite his earlier complaints. When Oberon didn’t respond fast enough, he managed to shift onto his knees, crawling forward and desperately latching onto O’s wrist. “Come back.”
In another minute or so, Oberon would be just as lost to biology as he was.
Many of their species hated what they were. They hated losing themselves to ruts and heats, couldn’t process what those overwhelming states of arousal turned them into. The things it made them do. They’d forgotten all about survival and how necessary those momentary losses of mental clarity were.
In the light, people cared too much about things like consent and appearance.
Fortunately for Oberon, he’d thrived in the darkness.
“You can’t expect sunshine and rainbows from me,” he warned the omega absently, only partially meaning to voice those thoughts aloud.
“I don’t.” Fenrir tugged on his wrist, urging him back to bed. “I expect your thick cock and fat knot.”
Oberon made a sound of surprise. “Who taught you to talk so filthy?”
He liked it.
A lot.
“Still, some things should come with a little romance, don’t you agree? There’s nothing more romantic than it happening when an alpha is in rut and his omega is in heat.” At least, that’s what Oberon had heard. That’s what took place in all the movies and in the dirty novels he enjoyed reading in his downtime. Synced cycles were hot.
Fenrir was hot, leaking all over the place, making those pleading sounds while tears trailed down his cheeks and slick and spent come poured from his blown entrance.
Oberon had done that. Had wrecked him.
He wanted to wreck him some more.
Wanted to wreck him for an eternity.
“It?” Fenrir tried to focus on him again, but this time it proved to be too difficult. He gave up and closed his eyes, fingers still digging into O’s flesh. “What? Alpha, please. I’m too empty.It hurts.” His hole pulsed, sending another wave of fluids from his body. “Damn it, King. What are you playing at?”
From anyone else, the words would have pissed him off, but Oberon merely grinned, confidence emboldened that his instincts knew better than logic or reason. “I’m waiting.”
“For?”
“For—” There. His skin prickled and his cock bobbed, balls tightening to the point of near pain. In another few seconds, he’d be just as gone as Fenrir was, unable to process or speak as eloquently as he could now. He planted a knee back on the bed and let out a wave of pheromones that had the omega’s thighs instantly widening.
Fenrir fell back into place, offering himself up, reaching for Oberon and bringing him closer as he resettled over his impressive form.