by Amy Bellows
Footsteps fall on the other side of the door. It’s past ten o’clock. I hope I haven’t woken anyone up.
Even if I have, I’m too far gone to walk away.
The door opens. Tatum stands behind it with pink, puffy eyes. When he sees me, his face lights up.
“Damien? I mean, Professor. Sorry.”
I cup his cheek, like I’ve wanted to so many times. His skin is soft and smooth. “Damien is fine. More than fine.” He leans into my touch and closes his eyes, as if he’s been waiting for it—as if he’s longed for me the way I’ve longed for him.
“Could I come inside?” I ask.
His eyes snap open. “Uh... if we’re quiet.”
“Okay.” I can be quiet if it means being with him.
He steps back and opens the door wider. The inside of his place is dark. I guess everyone must be in bed. That’s unusual for a houseful of college-age boys at this hour, isn’t it? Does Tatum live with his parents?
I should ask. I should care.
I don’t.
The moment I’m in his house, I grab the back of his head and pull him into me, claiming his full lips under my own. He lets out a soft moan. Kissing’s never been like this. The electricity between us is overwhelming. I wrap my other arm around him and pull him close. He fits perfectly in my arms. My sweet omega.
Even if he can’t be forever, maybe he can be tonight.
I slide my tongue into his mouth, and my whole body aches as our tongues meet. It’s like flipping a switch. The kiss becomes all greed: our tongues sucking, our teeth clacking, our chins knocking against each other. It’s violent and heady and perfect. I didn’t know it was possible to want someone like this.
“Please, Tatum,” I gasp.
He stops, as if waking up from a dream.
“I shouldn’t…” He trails off and burrows his nose in my shoulder, inhaling deeply through his nose. “You smell so good. I… I want you so much.”
Threading his fingers through mine, he leads me further into the house.
11
Tatum
Having sex once won’t trigger my heat. I’ve been so good. I’ve done everything right. I just want this one thing for myself. My dream alpha is right here in my house, and he wants me. When am I ever going to get a chance like this again?
I’m embarrassed he knows I live in a trailer park now, but at least it’s too dark for him to see how old the place is or how beat-up the furniture has become. If I just keep the lights off and send him home after we’ve had sex, he’ll never find out the rest of my situation. He’ll probably want to go home afterwards anyway. This clearly isn’t anything more than a physical thing for him.
That’s fine. A physical thing is better than nothing at all.
My mother went to sleep about an hour ago. I hold my breath as we creep past her room. If she wakes up, this will all be over, and I’ll never get to be with Damien. We finally reach my door, and I open it slowly, flipping off the light. The mattress is on the floor because I sold the bedframe a year ago when we got behind on the rent. If Damien wants sex bad enough to fuck his student, maybe he won’t mind. I crouch down and tug his hand to bring him with me. At least I can’t see his reaction to my mattress. It’s too dark.
I distract him by sliding my hand down his stomach to find his hard cock. It’s hot under my fingers and thicker than the dildo I was using earlier.
“Oh, Tatum,” he whispers and kisses me.
He gently lowers me onto the mattress, supporting my back with his hand as I lay down. When my head hits the pillow, he spreads his body on top of mine, exactly like the fantasy earlier. The weight of his body feels so good. I wrap my arms around him and hold him close. I could stay like this for the rest of the night, and sleep more contentedly than I have in months.
Of course, that isn’t why he’s here.
He grabs for his glasses, but I stop his hand.
“Would you leave them on?”
He smiles. “All right.”
This time, his lips are gentle as he kisses my nose and my cheek. The sweetness of it makes my heart ache. Of course Damien would be kind in bed. He’s a heat companion, isn’t he? He knows how to make an omega feel good. He nuzzles the sensitive skin underneath my ear. Idly, I wonder how much spending a heat with Damien would cost. Probably thousands and thousands of dollars.
He trails the tip of his nose down my neck until he reaches my scent gland. My lovers have avoided it in the past. An alpha doesn’t kiss or suck there unless he’s interested in bonding with you.
Damien drags his tongue along the sensitive skin. My breath catches. He can’t mean that. What is he doing?
“Professor?”
“I’m sorry. You’re perfect, Tatum. It’s hard for me to resist you.”
Is he high? He could have any omega he wanted. There’s no way he would settle for someone like me.
I can’t help it—I arch my neck a little bit, like a silent Go ahead and bite. I hope he doesn’t see it.
He buries his nose in my scent gland. “Oh, baby. Are you arching your neck for me?”
Damn it. He did.
“I… I just…”
He kisses me so hard I can’t breathe. His hips rock against mine, rubbing the outline of his hard cock against me. I grasp his shoulders.
“I’d be a good alpha to you. Take care of you. Make you feel good.” His hips become more urgent. I choke out his name. Maybe he’s high, but hearing him say that still feels good. I can almost imagine it. Mom and I would move to his house. He’d make love to me every night. I could spend my heat in his bed—on his knot.
What I wouldn’t give to feel his knot.
Before I stop myself, I mutter, “I’d be a good omega for you.”
“God, yes, you would. You’d make me so happy.”
What is going on? Did he just go through a breakup? Is that why he’s here with me? He tugs at the bottom of my shirt. I pull it over my head. He unbuttons his own shirt and presses his warm, naked chest against mine.
“Ohhhh,” he moans.
I wonder who his last boyfriend was—how wonderful he must have been to unhinge Damien like this. Maybe he thought they were going to bond.
He licks my scent gland again, then takes it in his mouth. I can’t help it—I arch my neck again, so much there’s no mistaking it now. Damien knows I want to bond with him. He sucks on the skin. I writhe underneath him.
“Please,” I say, without thinking.
He releases me and kisses my neck. “Oh, I wish I could.” He stuffs his hand underneath my ass and squeezes. “Mmmm. I want you. Will you let me take you?”
“Yes.”
He rolls off me to unfasten the button of my jeans and pull down the zipper. “Lift your hips, baby.” I do as he says, and he yanks down my pants and underwear, removing each pant leg separately after he’s done. It’s dark, but my nakedness still makes me feel vulnerable.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve already seen you naked, remember?”
Thousands of people have seen me naked on a computer screen. Only two other alphas have seen me in person.
“Will you take your clothes off?” I don’t want him to simply unzip himself to have sex with me. If we’re going to do this, I want to feel his skin against mine.
My eyes have adjusted to the dark by this time. Even though I can’t see him as well as I’d like, I can still make out a smooth chest and stomach, then his hard cock as he takes off his pants. I run my fingers along the curve of his ass and down his leg. My last two boyfriends were my age. He’s more confident and more solid than they were. His shoulders are wider too.
I’ve never had sex with an older man.
I’ve always wanted to.
“Do you like what you see?” he asks.
“Yes.” He must know that. He’s perfect. What omega wouldn’t want to have sex with him?
He rolls back on top of me. I forgot how good lying naked with an alpha in bed is. He’s so warm. I close my eyes.
His hands glide up and down my body, squeezing and massaging. His body starts moving, his hips rocking, the heat of his cock burning against mine. I could come like this easily. If he doesn’t stop soon, I will.
“I don’t have any condoms.” The ones I used with my ex-boyfriend expired a long time ago.
“I always carry one in my wallet. And I’ve been tested recently, just so you know.”
Telling him I haven’t had sex in three years would be awkward, so I don’t. “I’ve been tested too.” Not recently, but it doesn’t matter.
His hand slides between our bodies to cup my cock. It feels so different to have someone else touch me there. Especially Damien, the star of all my fantasies. He strokes me a few times, until I’m helpless and writhing underneath him. Then he moves his hand down lower to circle my entrance. He can feel how wet I am for him. I’m practically gushing.
“Mmm. Are you still loose from taking me earlier?” he asks.
I like the way he’s pretending it was real. It feels nice.
He slowly inches the tip of his finger inside me. “You’re so wet and hot. Are you ready for me?”
“Yes.”
His finger pushes in deeper. Hopefully, he doesn’t notice the way I grip his shoulders, the way I pull him down to be with me. I feel like he’s opening me up, both body and soul. This was supposed to be casual sex. But this doesn’t feel casual at all.
His finger stays inside me longer than it needs to. He’s being so careful with me, so gentle.
“Another,” I beg, if only to stop the way my heart races from his kind patience.
He withdraws and slowly guides two fingers into me. His fingers are wider than mine, and the extra girth makes my toes curl. He sinks them in all the way to the knuckle, then rubs back and forth in a place that makes my body spark.
“Damien,” I whisper. And because I only get to have him once, “Professor.”
He stiffens.
“Sorry. I won’t say it again. Please don’t go.” If he left me now, I couldn’t bear it.
He kisses my chest. “I won’t go. Please don’t worry about that.”
Before I can respond, he’s moving his fingers in and out, and I lose track of what’s happening. Professor Ringdal’s fingers are inside of me, and they know just what to do to make me wild. He’s pumping in and out, hitting that spot every time. I’m going to come if he doesn’t stop. But just as my balls draw up, just as my body crests, he withdraws. I grab for his arm, suddenly terrified he’s going to leave me again.
“Shh, it’s okay. Just opening the condom.”
The wrapper tears, and he pauses as he rolls it on his cock. For a fleeting second, I wonder if he’s going to come to his senses and stop. But he pulls my knees up and whispers, “Are you ready for me, baby?”
“Yes. Please.”
The tip of his cock is wider than the dildo and wonderfully warm. I forgot how good real dicks feel. I squeeze my eyes shut. He goes slow, not pausing even for a moment, the steady blossom of pleasure blooming inside of me. It’s a stupid, sentimental thing, but his cock feels like it was made for me. He fits perfectly. Especially when he bottoms out and licks at my scent gland.
“Ugh. I can’t…” I stop. I can’t what?
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I know the answer: I can’t hold back my feelings for him—not when he fits inside me so well. I can’t pretend this is some casual fuck with a guy I never want to see again.
How is he going to react if he figures out my true feelings?
“It’s okay, baby. I’m going to take care of you, make you feel good.”
Of course he is. Isn’t that why I can’t stop thinking about him? The idea of a man who’s taken care of omegas in their heats for over a decade must drive most of his omega students to distraction.
“Please.” But I don’t need to beg. He knows I’m ready for him to move. If I thought his cock felt perfect when it was motionless inside me, it’s even better when he rolls his hips. I want to cry, it’s so good. I lose all control, all composure—clawing at his shoulders, bucking back into him. He moans and pounds into me. It’s like he knows I need it hard and rough—that if he doesn’t give it to me like the world is going to end, I might die.
He’s expanding within me, and I should pull away. The condom will break. I could get pregnant. I don’t care. I want his knot more than anything. Just this once. Just this time. If he knots me, he can’t leave right after he’s done. If he knots me, this isn’t over yet.
I’m not ready for it to be over.
What surprises me is Damien doesn’t pull out. He forces his knot inside and sucks on my scent gland hard as he comes. Even though my mom might hear, I cry out. I’ve never felt anything so intense in my life. I’m babbling things I shouldn’t be saying. I don’t even want to think about what they are. Damien’s sucking so hard on my scent gland, and I want him to bite. I want him to claim me forever so I never have to let him go.
The problem comes when he stops sucking. He’s still so big inside me, and that’s wonderful, but without his mouth on my neck, a few horrible things come into focus. First is how wild this is. Damien’s usually an even-keeled guy. If he made it a habit to sneak into omega’s houses at night, he wouldn’t be successful as a heat companion or a professor. He wouldn’t be allowed to volunteer for the SLASW either. The second is that if he did make it a habit, he’d certainly have some way of securing the omegas’ silence. He hasn’t asked me to keep this a secret or established any boundaries.
Whatever is going on with Damien tonight isn’t normal, and like my show, he’s going to regret this the second it’s over. I need to prepare myself for that.
“Do you like my knot, baby?” he whispers in my ear.
I nod. Of course I do. Just like every other part of Damien, it’s perfect.
He starts moving again. When my last boyfriend knotted me, it hurt every time he moved, and in a bad way. He jerked too hard. Damien starts out with small rocks, allowing my body to adjust. Then he becomes more forceful, but not with sudden, rapid movements. No, his body moves like liquid, with the practiced confidence of a man who knows exactly how to please an omega.
“See?” he murmurs. “If you were mine, I could keep you satisfied for the rest of our lives.”
I don’t say anything because I don’t trust myself. Instead, I squirm and grasp the sheets. As my orgasm hits, I drag my nails down his back and squeeze his knot so hard I think I’m going to split in two. He roars into my hair and fucks me harder.
“Baby, let me bite you. Please let me bite you.”
If he was in his right mind, nothing would make me happier. But he’s not.
“No.” The word isn’t more than a quiet exhale. A horrible part of me hopes he won’t hear it.
His loud sob indicates that he did.
I come down from my orgasm like a rock. Damien’s bawling on top of me, his chest convulsing as he gasps for breath.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”
Of course he is. At least this time he can’t leave. We’re tied by his knot.
“What’s going on, Damien?”
He props himself up on his elbows and looks down on me. “I… I’m out of control.”
Well, I could have told him that.
He brushes my hair away from my forehead. “I need to tell you something, but before I do, I want you to understand that I already had feelings for you before all of this. Previously, I kept those feelings to myself because you’re my student. If it weren’t for the ethical concerns, I’d want to pursue you as a mate, okay?”
I look away from him. “Sure. Okay.”
“Do you know what a heat latch is?”
Not yet. But it sounds like a solid thing—a reason why someone like Damien would lose his grip on himself.
I knew all of this was too good to be true.
12
Damien
While I
tell him about my heat latch, Tatum stays calm—almost as if he suspected it. He gives me a pained smile. “All right. I understand. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
“That isn’t what I was worried about—”
“Isn’t it? Look, I get it. Your heat latch made you a little crazy, so you slummed it for a night. You don’t need to explain. As soon as your knot goes down, you can leave.”
It isn’t that simple. He arched his neck for me. An omega doesn’t do that unless they’re ready to bond with an alpha. That means he has some pretty serious feelings for me.
“I wasn’t slumming it.”
He clenches his jaw. “Don’t, okay? People get crushes on their professors all the time. I can’t be the only omega in your class who likes to look at your ass during lectures.”
Looking at my ass during lectures and arching his neck are two different things.
“Is everything okay, Tatum? I mean…” How do I say this? He’s sleeping on a mattress on the floor in a trailer park, and he’s arching his neck for an alpha he barely knows. Also, there’s the camboy thing. While I’m sure plenty of camboys are just fine, a lot of people turn to sex work when they’re down on their luck.
He turns his head away from me. “No. You don’t get to do that. You’re not my boyfriend. You’re not even my friend. You’re the guy who just sucked on my scent gland, then told me it was because you have a medical condition. Don’t you dare act like you care about me.”
He’s right. What I did to him tonight was beyond the pale.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Tatum? Is everything okay?” a female voice says. The room floods with light. Tatum pulls a blanket over our naked bodies.
We’re lying on a mattress on the floor of a bare room. There are cardboard boxes with folded clothes stacked neatly inside and a pile of books next to the bed. In front of the door is a tall, blonde woman in a white nightgown that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
“Everything is fine, Mom. Please go back to bed, okay?”