Of course, Oberon, not wanting to risk turning his junk into a frozen treat, had gotten creative.
His precious omega was currently riding an impressively sized dildo that Oberon had suction cupped to the seat before returning Fenrir’s ass to it. The cuffs had been replaced with a new pair with insulation, and he’d secured his ankles this time as well. A blindfold, ball gag, and nipple clamps completed the look. On one hand, Oberon hoped to speed up the regulation process by cutting off Fenrir’s other senses, forcing the omega to focus on the silicone vibrating inside of him.
On the other hand…
It was fucking hot to watch.
O shook his head at himself.
Wanting back inside of his omega wasn’t the most pressing matter here—or, okay, it sort of was, since he was going through all this trouble of researching Shouts for that very reason. While he was confident he could convince his mate not to freeze his bits, if Fenrir wasn’t in control of his abilities, there was no telling what might happen.
For the first time in his life, Oberon experienced self-doubt.
He’d always believed in his instincts, in following his alpha urges, but now he found himself forever linked to a man who could potentially stop his heart with a mere touch.
Shouts had various degrees of power, but Fenrir was clearly no weakling. He’d created a tiny snowstorm in the living room within a flash, and flakes continued to drift now and again whenever there was too long a lull between orgasms. Things would go more smoothly with help from his alpha, but Oberon…
He didn’t want to openly admit he was afraid; wary was more like. Who wouldn’t be? He had the marks to prove that Fenrir was no easy opponent. If O got too close, he ran the risk of giving in to his urges again and ending up injured even worse.
No, the best way to help his omega was by keeping his distance and leaving the man where he was. It was a pity there were no thrusting toys in the cottage, but O had never brought a lover here before, so it had never occurred to him to stock the place with such things. The only reason he even had the vibrating dildo had been because it’d been a prank gift given by Baal one Yuletide.
The dildo was an exact replica of Oberon’s cock.
He’d sent a picture of the molding process to the underboss, who never gifted him anything like it again.
The shaft was large enough that it filled Fenrir entirely, and it’d been turned up to the highest vibration setting. Every time he experienced a prostate orgasm, sweet omegapheromones permeated the air, but Oberon could tell it was frustrating the omega to not be touched elsewhere.
His gaze lifted, settling to the spot between Fenrir’s spread thighs.
Fenrir’s dick was bright red and ramrod stiff, bobbing as he rocked his hips as much as he was able while chained. His attempts to ride the toy did nothing to soothe the ache in his neglected member, and as time trickled by, his frustration became more apparent.
Oberon could have anyone he wanted. Willingly, in fact. He was one of the galaxy's most eligible bachelors despite his connections to the mafia, owned several attractive properties, ran two separate businesses, and had more coin than most Imperial families. The only reason he hadn’t settled down sooner was because he’d yet to find anyone who could catch his interest.
And yet here he was, mated to an omega who didn’t want him and who couldn’t control himself.
Fluids dripped from Fenrir’s front and rear, the scent of slick and come potent enough to tickle at Oberon’s nose even with the cold air filtering in through the window. A few of the puddles on the ground weren’t from melted snow at all, and he was momentarily worried that his omega would get dehydrated and pass out.
Ironic that he was concerned for him at a time like this.
Was it because he’d made himself the man’s alpha?
Shouts and their counterparts, known as Whispers, could feel the bond between them, and even potentially experience each other's emotions through that invisible link. That wasn’t the case with alphas and omegas, but that didn’t mean they didn’t undergo biological changes when mated.
All of those primal urges Oberon was so proud of would be altered without his consciously realizing. His instincts wouldrecalibrate. Fenrir was no longer a stranger or a one-night stand he’d purchased on a whim.
Fenrir belonged to him. Was his to do with as he willed.
There were alphas who abused this power, opting to twist the connection between them and give in to their obsessive nature. O, however, had come from a relatively healthy home life, with parents who’d both cherished and respected one another. It wasn’t common amongst the Synastry elite, but that didn’t make it a bad thing.
His alpha father had treated his omega mother as an equal.
Perhaps that was the major reason Oberon had rejected all advances in the past. He wasn’t after the kind of relationship with typical power imbalances. A submissive omega was only appealing if he knew he had to work to get him there.
Could he get Fenrir to submit?
Even in the throes of heat, the omega had been stubborn. His strength, though not as impressive as Oberon’s, was nothing to dismiss. Hell, if Fenrir also happened to be properly trained in self-defense, O could see him easily holding his own against at least half of the White Frost.
Trusting his instincts this time could end up being the biggest mistake he’d ever made.