by Aiden Bates
“Mm. Maybe it is.”
I opened my own bottle and sniffed it. The sweet, mingled fires of whiskey and cinnamon rose up in my nose. The bartender had been right. Cheap vodka? Sugar whiskey? None of this was what I usually drank. But that didn’t mean I was going to back down—not in front of Rusty King, anyway.
I tipped the Fireball back unflinchingly. It was so sweet, it made my molars ache. I closed my eyes, relishing the cinnamon flames as they stroked all the way down my throat. It was simultaneously so bad and so good all at once that I had to clench my jaw to stop from shuddering.
When I opened my eyes again, Rusty was looming over me. Tall, broad-shouldered, in a black Metallica t-shirt that looked one good flex away from tearing right off of him.
“You good?” he asked, a little smile of expectation on his lips. Like he was just waiting for me to realize I was too out of my element. In over my head.
“I’m good.” I gave him a smile of my own in return instead. I wasn’t backing down. If he wanted me…
Now was his chance.
I expected him to lean down and just…take me. It was what every other Alpha I’d been with would have done—all three of them. Besides, Rusty and I both knew what we’d come up here for. I was horny, he was hot. I was trying to spite my father, he was dealing with some dad problems of his own. The fight he was prepping surely had his red up, and I’d all but thrown myself into his rough, well-muscled arms. He could have had me by my wrists, pinned to the bed and moaning for him in all the time it would’ve taken to get our clothes off—
But instead, he let his body fall down onto the bed next to me. The mattress bounced beneath the added weight. With a slow, firm tug of my elbow, he pulled me back onto the bed with him. I moved against him with the same force, my body flowing against his like water.
“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he said, his voice only slightly slurred with the drinks we’d had. His nose was less than an inch away from mine. I could smell the cinnamon of the Fireball on his breath, humid and warm as it washed over my lips.
We don’t have to do this. That was a new one, though. Usually by the time an Alpha got me to this point, he already had his hand down my pants without so much as how’s this feel?
I blinked and drew back from him. The alcohol was kicking in and mixing with my confusion. Suddenly, there were four of Kaleb, all moving back and forth like a bad hologram.
“I mean, do you not…want to?” There was a hint of nervousness in my voice, an insecurity that I usually didn’t show, well, anyone. Least of all hot, rugged men I’d just fallen into bed with.
“I think that’s, uh… Well. See for yourself.” Kaleb inched his hips back and nodded south, toward the lap of his jeans.
I nearly gasped with need. The outline of his cock was visible through the denim, thick and hard. It strained his zipper and left the fabric over it stretched to accommodate it.
Fuck. He was big enough, if he didn’t let that monster out of its cage pretty soon, he was going to rip clear through his pants.
“As you can see…heh. Yeah. I fuckin’ want you, Daniel. But…” He closed his eyes and sighed, a tension in his jaw like he was doing everything in his power not to pounce on me without another word. “You’ve had a lot to drink.”
“So have you,” I pointed out. “We both have.”
“Just don’t want to…pressure you. I know how Alphas can be.” A low rumble sounded in his throat, like distant thunder. “If you don’t wanna, y’know. We can just cuddle. Make out, if you want.”
I blinked again, my eyes finally finding focus on his gorgeous, stubbled face. For a man as rough looking as Rusty was, his face had a strange sweetness to it. Something almost teddy bear-like. His lips were full and soft. Kissable-looking. And his eyes… damn. The way the colors swirled in his hazel irises, greens and blues and golds blending together like some kind of kaleidescope, was completely hypnotizing. He could’ve said the word and he would’ve had me crowing like a rooster or sucking him off with nothing more than a snap of his fingers and a wink.
With power like that, I guessed he had to stop. Had to ask.
A little smile started to spread across my lips.
Giving me a moment to make sure I wanted him like that was new for me, sure. But it only made me want him more.
“You’re something else, Rusty King.” I curled my fingers around the collar of his t-shirt, balling it up in my fist and pulling him closer to me. “Take me, you idiot.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” I nodded like I was accepting our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ into my life. “I’m not too drunk to know what I want.”
When he finally crushed his mouth against mine, I could feel a smile on his lips too.
Rusty kissed the way I imagined he fought. Rough. Merciless. He held nothing back, not tongue or teeth or hungry gasps for air in between. His tongue was like fire flicking against mine, hot and burning with cinnamon whiskey sweetness. His hands roamed my body, gentle at first but then slowly, surely, rougher. More demanding. Unbridled with need.
His teeth sank into my lower lip as he fumbled with the buttons of my shirt. I grappled with them too, letting him start at the top while I worked my way from the bottom up. Teamwork was necessary—we were too drunk to be smooth now, and I wanted his bare chest pressed against mine as quickly as we could get our clothes off.
When he finally split my shirt open, Rusty grinned with triumph. He pulled his own shirt up over his head, revealing just as much muscle as I’d hoped for.
Maybe even more.
“Like what you see?” Obviously, he’d caught me staring. “Too much for you to handle?”
My cheeks flushed pink, just the slightest bit. Probably as much from the drink as from anything. But if Rusty thought that a little involuntary blushing was going to make me stand down, he was dead wrong.
“Oh, I think I can handle you, Rusty King.” Reaching for his crotch, I grabbed the bulge of his cock through his jeans and squeezed him tight. “I can handle you just fine.”
A growl rose from Rusty’s throat. He closed his eyes and bucked his hips toward me, pressing his cock even further into my grip. Rusty’s teeth, straight and white, sank into his lip for a moment, dimpling the full, dusky rose of his mouth beneath a sharp incisor.
He wanted me. Fuck, he really wanted me. If I hadn’t been able to feel it in the way his cock throbbed for me while I held it in my hand through his jeans, I would have been able to read it plain as day, written in big, bold letters across his face.
“Good,” he finally replied. His eyes flashed open, looking more wicked than I’d ever seen them. His grin was smug, lopsided, drunken and infectious as he grabbed me by the belt and dragged me toward him across the bed. “Why don’t you get that tight little ass of yours over here, then?”
“Mm. Looks like I don’t have a choice.” The light in my own eyes danced, glimmering with challenge. With need.
“Oh, honey. With me, you’ve always got a choice,” he said.
Rusty nipped at my neck, teeth sinking briefly into the stubble over my Adam’s apple then scraping down the thin, delicate skin there. He dragged them across me, against the grain. It left every hair on my body standing on end.
“You could tell me to stop right now and I’d have my hands off you in an instant,” he said.
Rusty’s fingertips smoothed down my chest, his callouses rough and his touch even rougher. I suppressed a shiver, then a shudder, until I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. I trembled with want as his hands found my belt, tugging at it clumsily. The vodka had left us sloppy, but Rusty only needed to be accurate, not precise.
“You could tell me you didn’t want it anymore and I’d stop dead in my tracks. Not another fuckin’ word about wanting you or needing you or all the dirty fuckin’ things I’m about to do to you with my big, hard cock,” he said.
Rusty’s lips hovered over mine, dangerously close. The booze on his breath made
my head spin. It mingled with the scent of alcohol on my own exhale, the air from our lips twisting and coiling around each other into something humid, something shared. The promise of a kiss.
“You could tell me you never wanted to see me again and I’d be gone,” he said. “But you don’t want that, do you?”
“No,” I whispered. “No, not at all.”
“Good.” Rusty’s grin returned, more devious than ever. “Makes two of us, then.”
In quick succession, he undid my belt, my button and my zipper. There was no hesitation now. No turning back. No need to.
My cock was stiff as it had ever been. Against my thigh, I could feel how hard he was, too.
We both wanted this.
Good.
I lifted my hips so he could pull my slacks off of me. He took my boxers, socks and shoes off along with them. We both had to kick and twist and wrestle with the rest of our clothes, grunting and twisting in a way that probably sounded a hell of a lot like sex to whatever poor bastards had been stuck in the room adjacent to ours. By the time we were both completely undressed, we were both panting and even sweating a little in our drunkenness.
Just a little sample of what was yet to come.
“Christ. You look…” Rusty ran his fingers through his hair. He loomed over me on the mattress, kneeling before me. My heels were pressed against the outsides of his knees, leaving my legs spread just enough to tease him with what he might be able to see if he spread them apart a little more. “Fucking gorgeous. Fuck.”
“Yeah, well…” I leaned back in the pillows, arching slightly as I moved my heels back to hook around his knees. With a little jerk, I locked my feet around him and pulled him closer. He fell toward me, catching himself just before his body came crashing down against mine. “You don’t look too bad either. Fuck yourself.”
A smirk twitched on Rusty’s lips. “Would rather fuck you.”
His cock throbbed against mine. In this new, closer position, his thick, hard dick was laid out alongside my own. He was hot, maybe an inch longer than me, and—Christ. Thicker, too. Big enough that if I hadn’t been drunk, I would have suggested we grab some lube from my bag, just to ensure that he’d actually fit. Even with all of the vodka I had in me, I nearly suggested it anyway.
But then Rusty shifted a little lower, dipping his cock between my cheeks. His tip slicked up and down against my asshole. When he pulled it away, we could both see the ribbon of glistening lubrication that connected us like a lifeline.
Scratch that. No lube necessary. Rusty’s grin only grew wider as he saw how fucking wet I was, and as for me…
Rusty was hot, handsome, charming and all man. Could anyone really blame me for grinning a with a little smugness myself?
“You ready, darlin’?” He repositioned his cock between my cheeks, teasing my hole with his tip. He pressed into me, not quite enough to penetrate, but just enough to make me want it even more. “Still time to back out…”
Fuck. How dare he tease me like that, when he was so fucking close to giving me exactly what I wanted? Exactly what I so, so badly needed right now?
I threw an arm around his neck and bucked my hips up toward him. A hiss of pleasure escaped through my teeth as his cockhead slipped through the tight ring of my hole.
“No backing out now,” I told him, power and pleasure surging through me as my body adjusted to the incredible sensation of being stretched to accommodate him, then tightening hard around his shaft.
Rusty didn’t answer, not with words. But a low, animalistic growl left his throat, the kind that told me he had a thing for the kind of man who knew what he wanted and knew how to take it. Good—that was the kind of man he was, too. In that sense, we were perfectly matched.
Perfectly fucked, too, I realized, as his growl grew louder and he thrust into me, slamming another few inches deeper without warning.
“Fuck.” It was the kind of feeling that forced me to swear, a wave of pleasure that flickered through my nervous system and unfurled in my chest, hunger and wildfire.
I was so soaked, I had no doubt he could have forced his whole cock into me if he’d wanted. Instead, he’d only given me half. Our eyes met, and all that playful teasing was suddenly gone from them. Now, a mutual fire burned between us.
The time for playing games was over. Now, there was just pure, hot, raging need.
“More.”
He hesitated for only a moment, then folded himself over onto me. My legs locked around his waist, drawing him in even closer as he pressed the other half of his cock into me, crashing into me, balls deep. The hard, perfect muscles of his abs worked over my cock between us. He pinned it between our bodies, my precum smearing against his skin and mine. That lubrication meant he could stroke me, grind against my cock to leave me gasping with every thrust.
And with every thrust, I could feel something growing between us. Together we were a landscape, soaked in alcohol and just begging to burn. His hips bucked against my thighs, hard and cocksure and unyielding. His balls slapped against my ass, coming back a little tighter and more tense after every withdrawal. Rusty set a rhythm, slowly building, and I found myself matching it, stroke for stroke.
“Aw, fuck me,” he swore, a low growl in my ear. He chanted it like a mantra, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—Christ, darlin’, you’re so fucking good…”
I took his words inside me, closed my eyes and held him as close as I could. They fed the inferno building within me, something raw and half-starved and half-mad with how fucking bad I needed him, how fucking perfect his body felt against mine. Orgasm was the furthest thing from my mind. I didn’t want to cum. I didn’t want him to cum, either. I wanted this moment to last forever, then another eternity on top of it.
I couldn’t stop myself from coming anyway, but even as the orgasm hit—an explosion of light and heat that sent my ass spasming around his hard, thick cock and left me whimpering, moaning while my world spun wildly out of control—I was only pleading with him for more.
“Rusty,” I rasped, unable to catch my breath as I clung to him. “Rusty—god, yes, please—”
Please. That was all he needed. My body didn’t feel like my own anymore. Maybe it wasn’t. Rusty treated me like he owned me now, taking me harder. Faster. His fingertips dug roughly into any expanse of my skin he could grab hold of. My thigh as he parted my legs even wider so he could drive even deeper into me. The back of my neck as he held me, cradled me in his big, strong arms and bent me to his will.
The next time an orgasm hit, it wasn’t just my ass this time. My cock throbbed between us, reacting in resonance to his every thrust. As his abs moved over it in just the right way, my balls tensed up and I was exploding, gushing cum up across his chest, his neck, his stomach and my own body. It dripped back down onto me, smeared between us, hot and slick.
Rusty glanced down at it and the vicious snarl on his lips melted into a soft O of surprise.
“Oh, fuck…” he gasped, then with a final thrust, I could feel him coming too. His balls were tight against the curves of my ass, tensing, pulsating, squeezing every last drop of his cum up into his shaft and blasting it up into my very core.
Now, I wasn’t the only one holding on for dear life. Rusty wrapped me up in both of his arms, squeezing me tight and panting like he’d just run a marathon. As far as I was concerned, he’d just won one.
We stayed like that long after our orgasms subsided, coated in sweat and cum and each other’s need. His breath was humid against the nape of my neck. I let it wash over me, relishing his warmth, while I listened to the sound of my heart beating in my ears.
If I listened carefully, I thought I could hear his beating too. Perfectly in time with my own.
“God.” The word came out of my lips on the end of a laugh. “I…fuck. I needed that.”
“Yeah?” I felt Rusty’s lips curl against my skin. A triumphant smile—he’d claimed me. He’d taken me. He’d given me exactly what I’d been craving, and he knew it, too. “
Yeah, I think I needed it too.”
I blinked, all starry-eyed and half dazed. His cock was softening inside me, letting his cum trickle down the curves of my ass, but he was still too hard to let it all out. I could picture it within me, a perfect pool of pearly, sticky white coating my insides and—
“Oh, fuck.” I pulled back suddenly, sobering up as the rest of his cock slipped out of me. His cum came flooding out after it.
It wasn’t that big of a deal, of course. We’d been drunk. We’d been horny. But we hadn’t used a condom, which meant…
“You okay?” Rusty rolled off of me and propped himself up on his elbow as I all but leapt from the bed. His eyes were trained on my body as I tiptoed across the carpet and grabbed for my jeans.
“Yeah, of course. Just, ah…give me a sec.” I gave a little laugh as I rifled through my pockets. There was a pack of birth control pills in the left one. I popped a tiny white disk out of the foil wrapper and moved for the bathroom sink to fill up a cup of water so I could wash it down.
“You’re on the pill, then.” Rusty let out a low whistle that sounded like relief. “Thank fuck. Wanted you so bad, I didn’t even think to grab a rubber.”
“Me either.” I emerged from the bathroom with a towel. The white cotton was soft and warm against the quickly cooling cum I’d shot across my chest. “I had my heat three weeks ago, though. We should be safe either way.”
“Yeah? And here I was thinking maybe you’d picked me out for breeding stock.” He laughed as he cocked his head, beckoning me back into bed.
And where Rusty beckoned, I followed. After the fucking he’d just given me, I would’ve trailed after him straight through the gates of hell themselves.
Falling back into Rusty’s arms felt like diving into a dream. The bed was soft and plush beneath us. His body was hot and sticky—with more of my cum and with our salty, mingled sweat.
“Maybe I did pick you out to breed me,” I teased as I turned my face up toward him, popping a soft little kiss to the tip of his nose. I grabbed his cock, still half-hard and slick with my honey and his seed. Fuck. Even when he was going soft, he was still thick enough that I could barely wrap my fingers around him. “Like a stallion.”