by Tanya Chris
Gage scrambled to obey. He knew the position—he’d put himself in it before—but this was the first time he’d been ordered into it by someone who knew what it meant. He widened his knees and stretched his arms high over his head, flattening his chest down to the mattress so that his hips canted up, offering himself to the wolf behind him.
“Pretty.” Ryker traced Gage’s rim with the edge of a claw. “Almost a shame that I’m going to fucking destroy it.”
The head of Ryker’s cock slowly and cruelly stretched its way through the ring of Gage’s sphincter until it rested inside. Ryker’s cock had a big ball of a head atop a narrower shaft, so that Gage felt plugged already.
It was almost like a knot, he told himself. That was how a knot would feel—a bulge of an intrusion locked tight inside of him. He squirmed so that Ryker’s cock head tugged against his rim the way a knot would, though if it were a real knot, it’d be at the base of Ryker’s cock, not the top, and would probably be a lot bigger too. He’d read once that a big head meant a big knot, but that might only be urban legend.
“Going to fuck you now,” Ryker said. He didn’t phrase it like a question, but Gage understood that Ryker was checking in, so he nodded his enthusiasm and Ryker pressed in further until Gage felt those beautiful tangerine-sized balls rest against the flesh of his ass. All along his channel, a rigid heat pulsed through him.
“You ready for this?” Ryker asked with a snicker, but he didn’t wait for an answer. He set a punishing pace, driving into Gage ruthlessly, smashing his chest and face into the mattress as he was dragged helplessly back and forth across the sheets to meet Ryker’s thrusts. Gage pushed his ass up higher, wanting every inch of Ryker’s thick cock as it stretched him wider than he thought he could go, his body somehow accommodating, even welcoming, the burn of one harsh thrust after another.
“Fuck, Gage. You take it so fucking good.”
That was it, Gage was going to come. He couldn’t help it, not when Ryker was pushing his every button, physically and verbally. The assault on his prostate was an unstoppable force and the way Ryker was treating him was a wet dream come true. This was the wolf he was meant to be. He could feel it in every fiber of his body. This whimpering, worshiping, lust-weakened omega was him.
“Gage?” Ryker’s voice had a questioning tone, like he was as lost in lust as Gage. “Great Moon, I can’t—”
Yes, Ryker was going to come. Gage reveled in how overwhelmed Ryker sounded, obviously as overcome by the magnitude of the sensation swamping him as Gage was himself, but then he felt it—felt what had Ryker so simultaneously excited and confused. With each forward thrust, as Ryker’s groin connected with his, there was a resistance, a sort of squelching intrusion.
A knot. Ryker was popping a knot.
“Knot,” Gage said, quietly, uncertainly and then, when Ryker didn’t deny it, louder and louder, pleading. “Knot, knot, knot.”
The knot was spongy, not as hard as Ryker’s shaft, but round, not tapered. It squeezed through Gage’s sphincter, but it took some force to ram it through—force which Ryker was applying, so that each forward stroke ended with a burst of painful pleasure as the knot stretched him even wider, followed by the impact of Ryker’s body against his ass when the knot embedded itself, and then a gorgeous, dragging tug as it more slowly pulled free.
The knot was getting bigger. Fuck, it was huge. The pain had backed Gage away from orgasm, but he wouldn’t have asked Ryker to stop for all the rabbits in the Southern territory. He couldn’t believe Ryker was still managing to force the blunt ball in and out of him, but Ryker’s voice behind him crowed with pleasure.
“Take my knot. Take it. Fucking little knot slut.”
And that was it. Gage came like a fountain as Ryker slammed into him one last time, the knot like a baseball at the base of his bat. As Ryker buried himself, he fell forward, pressing Gage down so that his cock finished its eruption into the sheets.
In the breathy stillness that followed, Ryker mouthed at his neck. Gage moaned, ready for Ryker’s bite, for the best and only way to finish what had been the most amazing experience of his life, but Ryker’s teeth didn’t penetrate.
Of course.
He wasn’t really an omega. He couldn’t be claimed. He squelched the sorrow, focusing instead on the pulsing knot inside him and on Ryker’s heavy breath against his neck. Ryker licked over the spot he’d worried at, like he was cleaning the mark he’d left. Ryker was trying. Mimicking a claiming bite. It would do. It was still the closest Gage had ever come.
Ryker rolled onto his side, taking Gage with him. The knot pulled at Gage’s sphincter and made him spasm again, like a fresh orgasm, although his dick was actually going soft. Ryker moaned out his agreeing pleasure. He canted his hips away and pushed them gently forward in a rocking motion that somehow felt even better than all that frantic fucking had as he continued licking at Gage’s neck in soothing swipes.
They remained like that—not talking, only moaning periodically as spasms continued to rock them both—until Ryker’s knot settled and slipped free.
Chapter 4 Ryker
It took Ryker a while to feel bad, because he felt so fucking good. His knot belonged inside Gage. It was really happy there, sending orgasmic tingles through his body every time Gage twitched with his own aftershocks. He was pretty sure Gage was feeling it too. There was a kind of symbiotic bond going on between them, like he could feel Gage’s pleasure and Gage could feel his. Their orgasms amplified each other’s in a back-and-forth he hoped would never end.
But eventually his knot started to deflate, and that was when he felt bad. As good as knotting Gage had been, it probably wasn’t something he should have done. But it wasn’t like he’d done it on purpose. He’d never knotted anyone before.
Back when he’d been just coming into his sexual prime, when he’d lived in Western Pack territory, he’d gone to the omega bars with embarrassing regularity. He hadn’t understood then that omegas needed affection and a home, not temporary physical attention from a random alpha, and he’d been horny and selfish and had had that dream of claiming his own omega someday, of fucking him full of come and keeping him naked and kneeling and just generally being a domineering alpha asshole.
He’d been in no way ready to support or care for an omega at that point, so he’d gone to the omega bars and pretended instead. By the time he’d been stable and mature enough to consider getting an omega of his own, he’d come to understand that they deserved to be treated better than the way he dreamed of treating them, that his ideas were outdated and not very respectful, so he’d resigned himself to lording it over imaginary omegas rather than taking one of his own.
But even back when he’d been a selfish, callow youth taking advantage of lonely omegas in omega bars, he’d known better than to knot them. He hadn’t been that selfish. Sometimes it’d been a struggle to keep his knot suppressed when his dick was buried in some omega’s ass, but he’d always managed. Eighteen, hella-horny, head full of fantasies, and an omega beneath him, and he’d still never popped an unplanned knot.
On the rare occasions he’d fucked non-omegas, he’d never even had to try not to pop one. In fact, he’d assumed that only an omega ass could really do the trick, or at least fantasies of omega ass. When he jerked off, he allowed his knot to come forth. He liked to ram it in and out of his fist, holding his fingers tight, loving the sensation of forcing his knot through a constriction it shouldn’t be able to fit through, all to the accompaniment of some omega actor squealing and squirming on the screen in front of him.
When his knot had started to form while he’d been fucking Gage, he’d tried to suppress it. For about a second. Then it had felt too good, too right. Gage had been playing at being an omega and he’d played it better than the omegas in the omega bars. His positioning had been gorgeous, his vocalizations powerlessly perfect, his sphincter so tight—tighter than Ryker had ever dared close his fingers.
That was the thing though. Gage was tha
t tight because he was a beta. He wasn’t really meant to take a knot. Ryker had probably hurt him, maybe even insulted him. Gage might be feeling defiled, disrespected, even raped. It wasn’t like they’d agreed that Ryker could do that too him.
He sniffed along Gage’s neck, checking for distress pheromones, but he only smelled satisfaction. It made his wolf preen. He’d done good by his partner—fucked him good and filled him up with come.
Sadly, his knot had deflated to the point where his dick was starting to slide free. He thrust in and out a few more times, lingering in the wet warmth of Gage’s body for a last peaceful moment before withdrawing.
“Was I too rough with you?” He didn’t even know how to ask about the knot.
“Shh,” Gage said. “It was perfect. Don’t spoil it.”
OK. He could work with perfect. If Gage was happy, he was happy. He was more than happy. Perfect was actually a really good word for what had just happened.
He tugged Gage backwards, deeper into his body, and threw a protective arm around his shoulders. He loved the way Gage felt against him, soft and smooth. Gage was so lean, like he didn’t even have muscles. His flesh lay flat everywhere, like sheets on a freshly made bed, no bumps or bulges, with tawny skin like coffee that had exactly the right amount of cream.
Ryker had never seen a wolf like him in real life, only in omega porn. He knew those omegas were kept intentionally lean to appeal to alphas like him and that it was wrong to find them so attractive, but he couldn’t help that he did. He ran his hand over Gage’s flank, loving how it glided, loving how Gage shivered into him. He nosed again at that spot on Gage’s neck where he’d wanted to sink his teeth. That he’d managed to avoid, but only barely.
And what was that about? He’d never had to suppress an urge to claim someone before. If Gage had been an omega who could be claimed, he wouldn’t have even tried to stop himself from biting him, as wrong as it was to take without asking.
Not that he cared that Gage wasn’t an omega. He was a better omega than the ones in Ryker’s dreams. He was perfect. He was perfect for him.
They could mate, Ryker realized. A claim was just a ritual. He didn’t need it, not if he could have a mate like Gage. The trick was figuring out how to get Gage to stay in North Leland with him.
They’d go and collect his sister, and he’d talk Gage into staying. Gage would want to protect his sister, wouldn’t he? Ryker knew he’d want to, but maybe that was only an alpha thing. He might need to find another strategy, but he’d find it. Gage would belong to him, if not by blood claim then at least according to mating law.
~~~
Ryker’s first thought on waking up was a sort of grumpiness that Gage wasn’t in bed with him, but it only took a moment for the smell of bacon to wash that grumpiness away. Gage was cooking him breakfast. Ryker stretched himself long on the sheets, stirring up the scent of their joining. He rolled over and buried his nose in Gage’s pillow to soak up the satisfied smell Gage had worn as he’d fallen asleep.
His dick got harder as his nose called forth memories. Fuck bacon.
“Get in here,” he yelled out to the kitchen, which maybe he shouldn’t. Gage was making him breakfast and he was acting like an entitled ass, but Gage appeared instantly in the doorway and fuck, he was naked with just that little apron on, exactly the way Ryker had imagined him the night before. He looked like he hadn’t combed his hair and smelled like he was still carrying a good load of Ryker’s come inside him.
Gage had a spatula in his hand. He folded his arms and said, “I’m frying bacon.” He was trying for a tone of busy exasperation, but his expression gave him away.
Ryker pointed silently at his hard cock and Gage gave him a put-upon look before disappearing back through the doorway. Ryker had a moment to second-guess his imperiousness but then the sound of grease splattering died and Gage came back, minus the spatula and the apron.
Ryker smiled. He put his arms back behind his head and didn’t even try to pretend that he was anything other than the king alpha while Gage went down on him. His knot even came up a little, that was how fucking pleased with himself he was right then. He used a hand on the back of Gage’s head to help him force the bulge into his mouth where his tongue played around it.
Sweet mother, that was good—the stroke of Gage’s tongue and those little choky sounds and the smell rising up off him. Ryker pushed down hard and let his ejaculate fly and Gage managed to swallow it all.
Nice. That was the way to start your morning. Now for some bacon. He put his arms back behind his head and closed his eyes with a satisfied sigh.
“Alpha?”
He opened his eyes to find Gage standing at his side, butting up against him with his erection.
“Pretty.” He traced Gage’s shaft with a light finger. Gage had an adorable cock—long and lean and smooth and hairless, like the rest of him. “Go get that apron thing,” he told him, and when Gage had fetched it and brought it back, he sat up and tied it around Gage’s waist so that his dick made it lift obscenely in the front. “Pretty,” he repeated. He turned Gage towards the door and gave his bare ass cheek a smack. “Now go make me breakfast.”
“Like this?”
“Exactly like that. And if you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll take care of you after I’ve eaten.”
Gage mewled—a little desperate sound from the back of his throat. Ryker liked it so much that he smacked Gage’s ass again and gave him a push. He took another moment to revel in the glory of his post-orgasmic haze and the thought of his mate-to-be out there cooking for him before he rose to wash up and trot out to the kitchen for his breakfast.
There Gage was, looking absolutely enticing and plating up a dish full of eggs and bacon for him.
“Don’t blame me if the bacon isn’t crisped right,” Gage said as he added a cup of coffee to Ryker’s place setting. “Someone distracted me in the middle of cooking it.”
He sounded petulant but his apron still floated several inches off his thighs, so Ryker didn’t sweat it. Instead he dug into his food as he watched Gage dish up a much smaller plate for himself.
Ryker took Gage’s plate from him and dumped it onto his own. Gage made a pitiful little pouting face and headed back towards the stove, but Ryker caught him by the tails of his apron, pulling until the bow came free and the apron dropped at Gage’s feet.
“Come here, little one,” he said when Gage turned around with a fresh pout. “Let Alpha feed you.”
He guided Gage down to the floor where he looked exactly right—on his knees and expectant. In between appreciative bites of fluffy scrambled eggs and bacon that was perfectly crisp despite Gage’s caveat about being distracted, he hand-fed bits to Gage.
His dick got impossibly hard again, because this was more fantasy than breakfast, and he promised it fun times as soon as they were done eating. He still had to please his boy before they could get on the road, and there was no reason he couldn’t please himself while he was at it. He wondered if Gage would be too sore to fuck and if he should knot him again if they did. On the one hand, a knot would add an extra fifteen or twenty minutes. On the other hand, knot.
Gage twisted his head away from the next morsel Ryker tried to feed him. Ryker frowned at him.
“You need to eat, little one. We’re going to be moving all day. I know you’re not carrying a lot of muscle in human form, but you’re still a beta. Your wolf’s going to need fuel.”
Rather than opening his mouth to take in the food Ryker held in front of it, Gage shoved his hand away and leapt to his feet. He dashed over to the couch and threw himself down into the corner of it, curling into a tight ball with his face hidden, though Ryker could hear sobs through the muffling.
What the fuck had just happened?
He’d fucked Gage, knotted him, called him little one and good boy, ordered him to suck cock and demanded to be served with a hard-on and an apron, put him on the ground and fed him like an omega pet. All of which had been fine. Yet, somehow
, trying to make sure Gage took in enough food for their trek—the first sane and respectful thing Ryker had done since he’d started licking whipped cream off Gage’s nose the night before—that was what tipped Gage over the edge into hysterics?
He didn’t know how to deal with hysterics from a beta. Betas weren’t supposed to have hysterics. They were very practical, capable of being reasoned with. They didn’t cry because you tried to feed them a piece of fucking bacon, even if they weren’t hungry.
He didn’t want to go over to the couch until he understood what he’d done wrong so that he could fix it, but he couldn’t figure it out and his wolf was screaming at him to get over there and do something, so he did the only thing he’d ever been taught how to do. He shoved Gage’s face into his groin and held it there.
Scent—that was how you dealt with an upset omega. And there wasn’t anywhere on an alpha wolf more odorific than the groin.
Gage choked in a breath.
“That’s it,” Ryker told him. “In through the nose. Deep breaths.” He sat down on the couch and opened his legs wide so Gage could burrow in properly, and that seemed to do the trick. Gage latched onto his balls like they were his own personal security blanket. A few minutes later, his tears had dried up and his head rested contentedly against Ryker’s thigh as he allowed Ryker to groom his thick tangle of hair.
“So what was that about?” he asked when Gage’s tongue came out to lick at his sack.
Gage stiffened at the question, so Ryker pushed his face in closer and waited until Gage came out with it.
“I’m not a beta,” he said, his voice still teary. “I’m an omega.”
Ryker was pretty sure Gage was a beta. Even if Macy hadn’t told him Gage was a beta—and Macy never got anything wrong—he’d have known who Gage was just by smelling him, the way wolves always knew that about each other.
He inhaled deeply. Beneath the scent of distress and Gage’s own unique Gage smell—which was all sweet, submissive yearning—was the unmistakable scent of a beta wolf.