Omega Wanted: Bad Boy Mpreg Romance

by Stephan James

  Cam jerks awake, yelling some incoherent nonsense, which causes Laramie to jump up and scream out, too. Cam can’t catch his breath he’s hyperventilating, hand on his chest, lips split open like a fish out of water in and out in and out in out–

  “Cam! You’re okay. Breathe. I’m right here baby. Just a bad dream. Breathe. You’re in bed, safe. I’m right here. Cameron. Cam,” Laramie guides Cam back to solid ground, inside his own skin. “Breathe baby. I’m right here. You had a nightmare. You were dreamin’. You’re okay.”

  Cam’s breathing starts to slow down. Tears streak his red cheeks, which are crinkled and lined from sleep. Laramie caresses Cam’s neck, reassuring him. He says, “Baby, baby. You’re okay. I’m right here.”

  Cam looks at the clock. 11:42a.m.

  The series of bizarre events that occurred over the last forty-eight hours flood Cam’s mind like a compromised levee. Cameron realizes his excessive drinking, irregular sleep hours and insane dreams are causing him to wake up erratically disoriented and frightfully unaware. He needs to take better care of himself.

  Cam curls up next to Laramie. The dragon shifter kisses Cam on the top of his head.

  “You okay? What was the dream about?” Laramie asks.

  “I can’t remember... It’s already slipping away... This always happens.”

  Laramie’s quiet, although his expression looks pained.

  “Hate to see you upset like that,” he says.

  Cam looks up at him with shiny, windswept eyes. “Can I tell you somethin’?” he asks with trepidation.

  “Of course,” says Matt. “Anything.”

  “I’ve never been with a guy before,” says Cam. Laramie grins, and before Cam can ask his question–

  “You’re so cute,” Laramie says. “I could tell.”

  Cam is so offended. No matter his partner’s gender, Cameron Leto knows he’s talented at sex. He turns over, crosses his arms, giving Laramie the silent treatment.

  “Awwww baby it was cute. You are adorable. You are perfect. That was some of the best sex of my life because it was your first time baby.” He kisses Cam’s shoulder. Cam turns over.

  “So it wasn’t your first time with a guy?”

  “I don’t ever want to lie to you,” he says. “So I’m gonna be honest and tell you, it wasn’t my first time with a man. I had a boyfriend in my platoon the only time in my life I went to war. But it wasn’t really accepted at that time.”

  “What war?”

  “Civil. 63’, 64’, I fought for the North.”

  “18-63?” says Cam. He’s astounded. He keeps forgetting the ramifications of Laramie’s true age. It’s hard to comprehend when you’re only on your first lifetime.

  “That’s right.”

  “So when did you leave Italy?”

  “I’ve been going back and forth for many years… But I haven’t been back in about six decades now,” he says, a shadow crossing his face. “But the first time I left, I was young and full of ideas. Twenty-one, maybe?”

  “I’m twenty-one,” says Cam.

  “And I’m twenty-eight,” Laramie says with a wink. Cam rolls over on top of him.

  “You wanna get some coffee?” Cam asks.

  Laramie quickly rolls over and pins Cam to the bed now. He easily overpowers Cam, pushing his cock against his stomach, holding his wrists. Laramie kisses him, long and wet and brimming with that brand of passion only new lovers feel. The excitement, the longing, the compelling tension because you don’t know the other person all that well yet. The utter wonder at what could happen next.

  “Of course I wanna get coffee,” Laramie says. “There will never be a time when I say no to that question, Cameron.” They kiss again. Cam loves Laramie’s full body weight on top of his. Cam’s already discerned that he is somewhat submissive; he loves when Laramie is rough with him, uses him. He feels privileged that Laramie wants him, too.

  They fool around for a bit before redressing and hopping in Cam’s zucchini-colored Maserati. Of course Cam is taking Laramie to Seree’s. They concoct an elaborate plan to try all the best coffee spots in L.A. and Laramie adds names of some cafes to a new list in his iPhone. Then they start talking about other countries they’ve visited and Cam asks a million questions about Italy (he’s only ever been to Rome, none of the other, less-touristy spots) and Europe in general. Cam finds it so easy to talk to Laramie. Not only is he articulate and whip-smart, but also Laramie is a good listener and isn’t afraid to challenge Cam at times, especially when they are talking about politics, climate change, etc. No one ever challenges Cam. They just nod their head yes.

  Cam turns onto Seree’s palmetto-lined street. Paps wait outside the entrance; somebody must’ve called ahead at the sight of the Maserati in the Hills. Laramie looks a little afraid, which inflates Cam’s heart. His paramours are always thrilled about the scumbags taking their picture together. Cam finds Matt’s trepidation refreshing.

  “I forgot about this part,” says Laramie. “I won’t get out of the car. Or we can drive to my place. I have the N’espresso Virtuoso machine and trust me; it’ll knock your socks off.”

  Cam parks in front of Seree’s. He takes off his sunglasses and turns to Laramie. Behind the Maserati’s tinted windows, Cam kisses the shifter, playfully biting his lower lip.

  “No, Laramie. We’re going here,” Cam says. “And we’re gonna cause quite a stir.” A mischievous smile dances across his face.

  “I don’t like the sound of that...” says Laramie. He seems genuinely disquieted.

  “Put on your sunglasses. Let’s go.”

  Cam gets out, shuts the door, the bulbs flashing like raindrops on a tin roof, everyone screaming his name. Cam hurries around the Maserati and opens the door for Laramie. The dragon shifter clamors out, standing up, looking so masculine and handsome and gorgeously uneasy, and Cam decides to hold Laramie’s hand. Everyone on the sidewalk starts screaming. Cam doesn’t let go of Laramie’s hand the entire time they’re ordering their cappuccinos in Seree’s.

  Cameron Leto is gonna show Kim Kardashian how breaking the Internet is really done.

  “I remember you said you’ve been to Greece,” says Laramie. “But did you ever make it to Crete?” Laramie gestures over their balcony, beyond the mismatched, white-roofed clattering of Heraklion’s edifices toward the Mediterranean Sea. A dry, rough breeze roils off the sea pattering their faces. Cam stands behind Laramie, pressing his body against the shifter as they gaze out over Crete’s capital.

  “No. I never made it to Crete,” Cam says. “Just Athens.” He kisses Laramie’s neck. “This was the perfect idea Laramie. Thank you.”

  Los Angeles fell into a state of unfettered savagery after Cam held Laramie’s hand in Seree’s. The world wanted to know the latest, and to verify, verify, verify the “truth.” It tickled Cam how ignorant the world was to the truth. Nevertheless, Twitter temporarily shut down Cam’s account because of the virtual onslaught; he was the #1 trending topic on Facebook for fifty-two hours; and an iPhone video of Cam and Laramie in the café garnered five million views on YouTube. Dozens of paps parked outside Cam’s gated community waiting for him, not going home to shower or sleep or anything, just waiting because they saw him drive home and he’s gotta leave sometime. Cam couldn’t give two shits what the tabloids or social media or the public thinks about his relationship with Laramie, but he really didn’t feel safe going in public. So Laramie suggested a get-away.

  He found this AirBnb in Heraklion, booked it, reserved a private jet via JetSmarter, and they left in the middle of the night, less than two days after the incident. Cameron Leto is thankful to the shifter. Heraklion is so tranquil and positive and unique. California feels like it’s on a different planet. Cam couldn’t be happier.

  Laramie takes Cam to dinner at a hole-in-the-wall place for baklava and ouzo. It’s delicious. Cam notices some of the Greeks eating at the restaurant recognize him, but they don’t interrupt his dinner. In America, he would have been bother
ed twenty times. Their romantic meal would’ve been spoiled. Cam figures the Greeks have bigger things to worry about. He’s feeling even more and more thankful to Laramie that he chose Crete, his attraction to the man amplifying by the minute.

  After dinner – as the sun dips below the Mediterranean, flashing white and pink and vermillion light over Heraklion’s white facades – Cam and Laramie explore the city. They wriggle down tight alleyways and share a rolled-up cigarette. They drink more ouzo and chat with some locals in the airy, charming garden of their AirBnB’s complex. Then, under the covering of darkness and eternal night later on, Laramie shifts. For the first time on his own accord, Cameron rides Laramie the dragon.

  The sensation of riding a dragon is inexplicable – it’s somewhere between exhilarating and terrifying and utterly sensational. They glide over Heraklion toward the South Aegean Sea, the placid water onyx-black and uninviting. The moon’s light is bright over Crete and all of the Mediterranean tonight and Laramie dips low enough to the Aegean that cold droplets spray Cameron’s face. They leave Crete behind and circle around Mykonos, Santorini and lovely, tiny Corfu Island before heading back. Laramie weaves between the White Mountains on Crete’s western edge and Cam kicks some snow off the highest summit. Soon though, Laramie senses that Cam is cold and having difficulty hanging on for much longer; so with a few powerful beats of his wings Cam feels Laramie glide toward their AirBnB.

  Laramie gently deposits Cam on the balcony before deftly shifting back to his human form. “Well that was fun,” he says with a toothy, unfiltered grin.

  “AHHHHHH Laramie!! That was amazing. That was un-believable. Thank you!” He kisses his shifter square on the lips. Cam’s holding back tears. He realizes that he never wants to go back to L.A. He could stay here with Laramie forever.

  Cam leads Laramie into their cozy apartment’s master suite, pushing the shifter on the bed. He jumps on Laramie, kissing every part of him he can, gyrating his torso against Laramie’s stiffening cock. Cam takes off his shirt before pulling off Laramie’s. The shifter’s thick, jet-black chest hair is matted and sweaty from their flight around Crete. Cam sticks his face in it.

  “You smell like Heaven,” Cam says. “I could smell you all day.” He’s never been so overwhelmed by an odor.

  “Pheromones are real,” Laramie says. “People don’t think so, but they are. Especially for shifters.” Laramie lightly kisses Cam’s nipple, tonguing and twisting it. Cam moans. He pushes Laramie back down.

  “Don’t move,” Cam says.

  He works his way down Laramie’s body. Cam lingers at Laramie’s hairy nipples, rubbing his pecks. He lingers at Laramie’s armpits, too, and breathes in the sweet, erotic goodness before working his way down the shifter’s sculpted human form. With his teeth, Cam unfurls Laramie’s belt and throws it to the floor. He edges down Laramie’s briefs as Cam basks in Laramie’s equally sweaty, robust pubic hair. Slowly, with care, Cam releases Laramie's giant, nine inch cock from his briefs, which is so hard, it’s pulsating. A little pre-cum oozes from Laramie’s red mushroom head and Cam licks it off. Laramie tries to grab his cock but Cam bats his hand away.

  “You don’t touch. Only I get to touch,” he says mischievously.

  Cam locks eyes with Laramie as he encloses his lips over the shifter’s giant cock. He tries to take it all in his mouth, working up and down the shaft. More pre-cum drizzles across the head and Cam slurps it up. He thinks it tastes like vanilla cartemine, which Cam loves. He could drink Laramie’s tasty spunk by the gallon it’s so delectable.

  Cam bobs up and down on Laramie’s cock. The dragon shifter groans, tossing his head back.

  “Oh Cam fuck yeah. Fuck yes Cameron Leto suck my fucking dick. You like that fucking dick? I fucking own you. This dick owns you. Fuck. Yes. Suck on it. Don’t stop. Work my fucking cock.”

  Laramie grabs Cam’s head and moves it very quickly up and down on his cock. Then, he pushes Cam all the way down on his shaft, so Cam’s nose is mashed in Laramie’s pubic hair. His eyes are bulging; he can’t breathe, but Cam loves it. He coughs and kind of chokes; Cam swears Laramie likes seeing the tears, he likes seeing Cam struggle with his massive cock.

  “Make me choke on it again,” Cam murmurs.

  Laramie obliges, forcing Cam down on his dick. Cam starts jerking off his own rock-hard cock between his legs. But he doesn’t touch himself too much; Cam’s that close to busting already. Cam chokes on it some more and Laramie is loving it.

  “You fucking bitch boy. You fucking like my dragon cock? You want this dragon cock in your ass bitch boy?”

  Cam nods his head. He cups Laramie’s balls before Laramie forces his head down there. Cam gobbles up Laramie’s gargantuan testicles, licking them, juggling them on his tongue. Laramie’s giant cock rests across Cam’s face as he laps up the shifter’s sweaty, hairy delectable balls. Laramie lightly slaps Cam’s face over and over again with his cock.

  Then, suddenly, Laramie picks Cam up and flips him over. “Now it’s your turn,” he says.

  And without any pre-warning, Laramie sticks his face in Cam’s ass.

  “OHHHHHHH MY GODDDDD!! Laramie! No one’s ever done this to me before! It feels so good!! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Lick my fucking ass! Lick it!” A tsunami of unfathomable ecstasy overtakes Cam’s thin body. Cam has to hold himself back from cumming; the stimulation to his ass hole is so hot and intense. Laramie licks his ass for a few minutes, digging his tongue deep in Cam’s hole, opening him up, before poor Cam asks Laramie to stop.

  “It’s too intense,” he says. “You gotta work your way up to it. Too intense.” Cam’s breathless, dripping in sweat.

  Laramie laughs. “You know what’s gonna be too intense…”

  The dragon shifter jumps off the bed to his suitcase. He exhumes some lube from a secret compartment.

  “Turn over,” Laramie demands. Cam listens. He dribbles the cold lube on Cam’s pink hole, covering his ass completely. Laramie slides the tip of his finger in his ass and Cam sharply inhales.

  “I want you to fuck me,” Cam says. “Fuck me. Fuck me!! I can’t wait! Please, Laramie. Please.”

  Laramie isn’t gonna argue. He guides his dragon cock inside Cam, inch by inch until all nine inches are in there.

  “Let me get used to it,” Cam says in a strained voice. “Lemme get used to it.” Laramie covers Cam’s mouth.

  “You don’t tell me how to do it,” Laramie growls in Cam’s ear before he starts ruthlessly tearing apart Cam’s hole. He fucks Cam senseless, in and out, in and out, his balls slapping against Cam’s ass cheeks making this sexy, squelchy sound that echoes around the suite.

  “OHHHHHH!! Yes Laramie! Your cock feels so good. It’s so fucking big. Fuck me fuck me fuck me. Fuck me Laramie. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. I want every drop of your cum inside me.”

  And Laramie wasn’t going to argue with that either. They fuck in every position for forty minutes until Laramie the dragon shifter breeds Cam Leto’s ravaged, beautiful hole. They fall asleep with Laramie’s cum languishing across the sheets, oozing from Cam. They fall asleep cradling each other.

  The rest of Cam and Laramie’s whirlwind adventure followed the template of their first night in Heraklion: by day, exploring, eating and conversing about every topic known to man; Cam riding Laramie the dragon around the island and over the seas in the evenings; and Laramie fucking Cam all night, senselessly owning his boy hole in every nook and cranny of their AirBnb, staking his claim and endlessly cumming, cumming, cumming. Neither of them has ever cum so much in a week’s time. By the last night, Cam doesn’t think he has any cum left.

  And nothing lasts forever, Cam is realizing. “Paradise is always fleeting,” Laramie says. “Vacations always go too quickly, too.” He needs to return to L.A. for work. Cam doesn’t want to leave Greece, although surely by now the media’s focus on his sexuality has died down. Right? There must be different news about ISIS or the presidential election or something. Didn’t humanity have bigger thi
ngs to worry about then Cam Leto’s sexual partners?

  Only eight days later and they are flying back to L.A. via JetSmarter again. As Cam and Laramie cross the Atlantic, a bud of anxiety and fear blossoms in the pit of Cam’s stomach. Laramie senses Cameron’s anxiety and tries to make him feel better. He offers for Cam to stay at his place for a few days if he’s still feeling overwhelmed. Cam happily obliges. After over a week attached to Laramie’s hip, he can’t imagine being apart from the shifter.

  They arrive in Malibu in the middle of the night again, worn-out and somewhat agitated. Early in the morning, Laramie leaves for work. When Cam wakes up, he slowly, nervously checks his social media and surfs the Internet for the first time since he held Matt’s hand in Seree’s. He looks at Twitter, Perez Hilton’s blog.

  And Cam breathes a sigh of relief.