Slow Heat

by Leta Blake

  “I’ll fuck you until you come screaming and begging for my knot.”

  Xan groaned. “You make promises you can’t keep.”

  Jason lifted his brows.

  It was true he couldn’t knot Xan, as it took omega heat pheromones to activate that biological function, but he’d make him come screaming all the same. He’d done it before and he’d do it again. Their room in high school had been cited five times by the dorm monitors for afterhours rowdiness. But really Xan had just been coming his brains out on Jason’s plunging cock.

  “Get on your knees,” Jason barked, finally naked. “Bend over the bed and show me your hole.”

  Xan’s lips twisted up in a mocking smirk. Not surprising since he was an alpha, too. He had to curb his own instincts to play this game with Jason. But that was what Xan loved about it, in Jason’s opinion—the challenge of submitting when he had every right to say no, every right to challenge Jason to a fight instead of throwing himself across the bed, ass up, and spreading his cheeks wide.

  What a view.

  Xan glanced over his shoulder, making his eyes as round as possible, a pretense at the inciting guileless innocence many omegas exuded in the throes of heat. “It hurts. I need you.”

  Jason’s cock flared to life at the words, so common among omegas that they were more a cliché than a real seduction, but apparently that was all it took. Nineteen, horny, teased by pretty damn great pornography in the guise of an educational film, and Jason was easier than adding two plus two.

  He tweaked his own nipples, gazing down at Xan’s naked form, lithe and beautiful, spread over the bed just like Jason’s own omega’s body would be one day. He needed some faux slick, though. Xan didn’t make it, and to plunge into his hole dry would be painful to them both.

  He slammed open his desk drawer and found the oil he kept there. The small bottle was still greasy on the outside from having used it the day before—the last time they’d played this particular game.

  “You mine?” he asked, thrusting his voice into a lower register, pleased by the rumble in his growl. He wished he had the bulk to back it up. A glance to the mirror showed his beardless face looked as young as ever, and his naked chest lacked more than a scraggly promise of eventual chest hair.

  “Always,” Xan said, arching his back and shoving his ass out.

  Jason grinned, dragged Xan fully up onto the bed, and kissed his mouth.

  As they made out, he ran oil slick fingers over and into Xan’s hole, getting him slippery, making him pant. An alpha’s prostate wasn’t as large or sensitive as an omega’s, but it still brought pleasure when stroked.

  “I want you to come in me,” Xan muttered, his wide lips pressed against Jason’s throat. “Need your seed. Fill me up.”

  Jason growled, his balls throbbing. “Shut up. You’ll make me jizz and I’m not even in you yet.”

  “Some alpha you’ll be if you can’t even wait until you’re inside your fake omega before coming.”

  “Watch it, asshole.”

  Xan laughed. “Why? You’ll spurt all over the face of your real one if you don’t get some control. Then what’ll he do? Fuck himself silly on a dildo, crying and begging for you to get hard again? Pathetic.”

  “You know rebound isn’t a problem for me.” And it really wouldn’t be a problem with an omega’s pheromones surrounding him. “But if you don’t shut up, I won’t let you come on my dick.”

  “Like I care.”

  “Like that isn’t your favorite thing about this game.”

  Xan grinned. “Get it in me and we’ll see if you can be a good alpha and let your omega come first.”

  Jason narrowed his eyes, flipping Xan onto his back easily. Penetration was always delicious. He loved the sensation of it. So much so that he put off actually doing it a little longer in order to imagine the hot, squeezing flesh parting around his alpha cock first.

  He was proud of his dick. It was the only fully-grown part of him, as far as he could tell. It was fat and long, and alpha-sized. Jutting out from his body, all thick and meaty, it looked like it belonged on Wilbet Monhundy. Or on Xan’s massive father—a man with even more muscle than money. And the man had a lot of money.

  Jason rubbed his giant cock against Xan’s, pleased, as always, that it was half an inch thicker than Xan’s and a three-quarters of an inch longer.

  He didn’t have a lot of alpha cocks to compare his own to, especially not hard ones. But over the summer he’d stumbled onto a small pile of old pornography films in the basement of his parents’ summer cottage by the beach. They’d probably been left behind by his cousin Jamil, when he’d spent six weeks at the cottage studying the life of salamanders for his doctoral studies. He’d been without his omega for the first time since they’d met, and likely he’d have been horny as hell all alone like that.

  Regardless, Jason had looked at the films every chance he could over the summer, and he’d been thrilled to find his cock was bigger than both the alphas in those movies. He’d be able to reach farther into his omega’s womb and bring him more pleasure, not to mention increase the likelihood of impregnation.

  Staring down at Xan’s enraptured face, Jason stroked his cock. “Open up for me, omega.”

  Xan shuddered, spread his legs, and stared up at Jason feverishly, quivering as Jason pushed inside. “Fuck, you bastard,” he hissed. “You’re big.”

  Though omegas often commented on size as a way to egg their alpha on, Jason knew Xan wasn’t playing. His eyes shaded darker as he strained to accept Jason’s girth, so Jason backed off. He slid out and then pushed against Xan’s slick sphincter, groaning as it, opened around him like a tight, gripping sleeve.

  “Fuck,” Xan whispered again. This time his head tilted back, exposing his pale throat and pounding pulse. “So good. You feel so good, Jason.”

  Flicking his blond hair off his forehead, Jason grinned smugly down at Xan. “Omega, that’s an alpha cock in your ass. Show me how grateful you are for it.”

  Xan shuddered hard. “So grateful.”

  “Show me.”

  Xan clenched around him and threw his hips up to catch Jason’s thrusts.

  “Yes, that’s right.” Jason tugged Xan’s cock, something he’d never have to do for a real omega: they came anally from omega gland and prostate gland stimulation. He whispered, “Look at your slutty hole all open for my come. Want my babies, omega? Want me to fill you up?”

  “Give it to me,” Xan muttered, his chest flushing and his nipples budding up tight. “Give me your jizz.”

  “Mm, you want it bad.”

  “So bad.”

  “You want my knot?”

  “Yes!”

  Jason closed his eyes, blocking out Xan’s familiar face. He wanted an omega, a real one, a slick-assed, whining, begging, writhing omega beneath him, crying real tears for his come, pleading for his babies, begging to belong to him, and be owned by him, and to come all over his dick, screaming, riding, convulsing in helpless—

  “Jason!” Xan cried out, his body jerking as thick wetness splashed between them.

  The grip of Xan’s asshole and Jason’s urgent fantasies swamped him. Come rocketed from his balls and pumped out of his dick in massive wads. He felt it load up Xan’s ass and spill out around his cock. He’d be able to jizz so much more when he finally had an omega in heat and knotted in an orgasm that went on for minutes, not just long seconds like this one. He grunted, thrust hard one more time, and felt a final spurt of pleasure.

  He moaned, collapsing on Xan’s sweaty body. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Xan said, his voice quiet and his body quivering. “Fine.”

  “Feel good?”

  Xan shrugged, and Jason knew the post-orgasm guilt was settling on him like it did every time Jason fucked him.

  “Shh,” Jason said. “No one knows. No one will ever know. It’s just you and me. When we get our omegas, we’ll be glad we practiced.”

  He left it unsaid, and so did Xan that th
e only one really practicing was Jason. Xan, if his predilection was discovered, would be an outcast among alphas. Only betas and omegas got fucked. Everyone knew that.

  But Xan liked it. And Jason didn’t think it meant a damn thing. Liking it didn’t make Xan less of a man or an alpha.

  “We have fun; that’s all that matters,” he whispered, snuffling into Xan’s hair. He wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. “Tell me what you want your omega to be like.”

  Xan was quiet a long minute, but he finally answered, “Tall, blond, handsome.”

  It was his usual answer, but Jason wasn’t satisfied. “Give me more than that. What do you want him to be like? On the inside?”

  Xan shrugged. “I dunno. I never think that far. I just think about putting my cock in him. Breeding. That’s it. It doesn’t matter what I want anyway. Our bodies will choose, if we’re lucky. We’ll react to some stranger’s pheromones, imprint, and that will be that.”

  Jason frowned. “Why sound so hopeless about it?” He thought it was romantic, himself. Finding his Érosgápe. Knowing immediately. Feeling that surge of lust and ownership. He patted Xan’s arm lazily. “It’s the way it’s always been.” At least since the Great Death.

  Xan shrugged again before rolling up onto an elbow to reach for tissues on the bedside table. “Exactly. It’s the way it’s always been. So why think about it? We’ll get what we get and we won’t pitch a fit.”

  Jason let Xan move out of his arms to clean up, his lips set in a small frown. He didn’t feel that way at all, and he wished Xan didn’t, either.

  Meeting his omega would be the best thing that ever happened to him if he were lucky enough to find his Érosgápe. No matter who that omega was, if he was his Érosgápe, then Jason knew he’d be happy. Thrilled. In love. They’d live happily ever after in their bond. Like his parents and grandparents before him.

  What could there ever be to pitch a fit about?

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Yes!” Xan pulled his head out of the return bin at the university library and held up a red-spined text triumphantly. “I knew some nerd would have completed the assignment early.”

  “That’s the wrong edition,” Jason said, shaking his head. “The spine on the latest one is blue.”

  He knew that because he was a nerd who’d completed the assignment early. As in a week early. An omega would want a smart, resourceful, educated alpha, and he wasn’t going to fall down on the job. He’d been a good student his whole life, but especially ever since presenting as an alpha at fifteen. There were expectations to be met.

  Earlier in the week, when he’d finished the assignment, he’d offered the text to Xan, but the dummy had waved him off and said he’d get his own copy from the library later.

  “Dig a little deeper,” he suggested. “It might be at the bottom if someone turned it in late last night.”

  He admired the way Xan’s neck reddened in his irritation as he dug around in the bottom of the bin. It brought to mind how his body flushed when they played alpha and omega—like they had yet again that morning.

  He’d lucked out in a roommate all those years ago. Other alphas either spent a ton of quality time with their hand, or they had to cultivate close friendships with willing betas, because once the storm of puberty hit, so did nearly torturous peaks of horniness.

  Jason used to have beta pals in his neighborhood at home, and some of them had been willing to accommodate his needs when he was younger. But now that his cock had grown into its full alpha size, most had decided the pain wasn’t worth the pleasure anymore. Betas were more like Old World men. Their anus wasn’t as robust or elastic as an omega’s and their pain tolerance not as high as an alpha’s. Luckily, over the summer at his parents’ beach cottage, he’d met a few slightly older betas that enjoyed alpha dick. He hadn’t liked the casualness of those encounters, though. There was no foundation of friendship for role-play, or laughter, or fun.

  With Xan, he had all that and more.

  Xan’s high pain tolerance made the penetration pleasurable for him, as far as Jason could tell, and he loved to play in every sense of the word. Jason smiled slightly, remembering Xan’s helpless laughter that morning as Jason had licked his hairy armpit, demanding his ‘omega’ submit to a tongue bath.

  “Shit.” Xan chucked another book to the side and dug even deeper into the pile, his ass up in the air as he bent deeply into the bin. “Why doesn’t wolf-god love me? What have I ever done to offend him?”

  Oh, just ridden another alpha’s cock and begged for more.

  Jason bit his cheek. It wouldn’t do to say anything in public about the games he and Xan played in private. Xan had enough internal conflict over it. He didn’t need more, even as a joke.

  What Xan allowed Jason to do to him violated half a dozen commandments of the Holy Book of Wolf. Being unmanned—that’s how the holy book referred to an alpha being penetrated. It wasn’t just unseemly or unusual; it represented a loss of status, as evidenced by the use of wrestling and rape between alphas in the early years of Wolf to establish power and dominance or to exert authority and claim lands.

  Now, power and dominance were all in a family’s name, reputation, and holdings in today’s world. Thank wolf-god for that. With his long-scrawny limbs, so like his Pater’s, he’d never be able to take down someone like Wilbet Monhundy. No, if he had to fight for his place in society, he’d be on his stomach in a heartbeat, ass up, taking a massive alpha cock, and resisting every second of it.

  Good thing the world was more civilized now.

  The door behind them opened and closed, letting in the cool fall air. Jason shivered beneath his light jacket.

  “Maybe this one is close enough,” Xan said, pulling the red-spined book out again. “How different can one edition be from another, really?”

  Jason snatched the book from his hand, flipped through the pages, and tossed it back into the bin. “Different enough.”

  “Hey! I need that.”

  “I’m telling you, you don’t. The first chapters on reproduction and the stuff about omega glands and the production of slick are totally different.”

  “How?”

  “They used to think that the omega glands swelled painfully during heat solely because the extra slick was needed for the alpha’s knot, but now they know the alpha’s pre-come and semen play a role in reducing the inflammation as well, changing the pain to pleasure for the omega. That’s why alpha dildos and fists only go so far in relieving the pain, and why omegas aren’t as easily satisfied when alphas use condoms. The new theory states that the pain of overly swollen omega glands and the anti-inflammatory properties of alpha semen serve as yet another way of propelling the species to come together and procreate. Anyway, all of that’s totally different in the new book. Dr. Romaire Epstar had that big break on all of this last year, remember?”

  “Why would I know that? Why would you know that?”

  Jason rolled his eyes and glanced at his watch. Ten minutes until class. “Because I’m an enormous nerd, Xan.”

  He was a nerd with a pretty face, wealthy parents who owned a busy shipping company, and a trust fund to keep him in style until he inherited the rest, but a nerd all the same. Jason resented his social standing, though he knew he was lucky to never have to worry about money. When it came to society parties and the like, he’d rather stay home and read lame science journals for fun, and Xan knew it. They were both powerful men’s sons, and yet they were both barely on the edge of their school’s social sphere for a reason.

  Jason went on, “Besides, who has the photographic memory here? Me or you?”

  “You,” Xan agreed reluctantly. “And I hate it. Living with you for four more years is going to be insufferable.” He shot Jason a hot look from under his lashes, and Jason’s dick twitched.

  “Yeah, insufferable. If we’re lucky, it won’t be four years,” Jason reminded him. “Only two more until we meet with the first group of available omegas at Mont Juror to
see if any are our Érosgápe.”

  And if they didn’t find their bond-mate, they had four more years of meetings with Mont Juror mature omegas before they’d be pressured to contract with an unbonded omega through one of the Philia Committee soirées.

  Xan gave a tight smile and nodded. “Right. No more need for roommates then. Or not like now.” He paused and cleared his throat, his blue eyes darkening as he searched Jason’s.

  “If we’re lucky,” Jason agreed.

  Xan’s gaze fell back to the pile of books in the book return bin. “Shit.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “How am I going to write this paper?”

  Jason tugged on Xan’s soft jacket sleeve, smiling at the expensive fabric and stylish cut of his friend’s clothing. Never a penny spared to look as smart as possible where Xan was concerned. Jason didn’t spare expense either, but he kept things simpler. No fancy fabrics or bow ties, like Xan enjoyed—just nice-fitting pants, a solid navy button-up shirt tailored to fit well, and new leather loafers.

  “C’mon,” he said kindly. “You can read what I wrote and I’ll help you write something almost as good.”

  “Almost, huh?”

  “Yeah, almost.” He slung his arm around Xan’s shoulder, turning to leave the library. Contentment pooled in his gut. “Can’t have you doing better than me when you didn’t even read the assignment.”

  Afternoon sun shone in through the clear glass windows that scaled up to the ceiling at the library’s entrance. A collection of professors and their graduate student assistants gathered around a large round table a few yards from the entrance, papers, pens, and notepads scattered everywhere. A lively conversation was underway in urgent, hushed voices.

  Jason spotted Dr. Obi, the upper-level professor he hoped to land as his advisor for the research he wanted to do on the expression of the engineered wolf gene in post-Old World humans. Specifically he wanted to explore the role it played in instigating heat in omegas and mounting urges in alphas.

  He’d already checked out theses on similar topics from the library, discovering that a lot of his original questions had already been answered. But there was still so much more to understand about the Great Death, the advent of alphas and omegas, and the role their engineered genes played in post-Old World human behavior.