Going Under, the first book in the Something in the Water series, arrives Tuesday, September 5!

 

Chapter 6: Crime and Punishment [Slapshot!]

Chapter 6: Crime and Punishment [Slapshot!]

05fb7-istock_000054980484_full

It was like Mason had been waiting for him; he picked up after the first ring, demanding, “Where have you been?”

Luke mewled into the receiver, unable to summon words as the spell of Mason’s voice fell over him.

 

“Are you at home?” Mason asked sharply.

 

“Yes,” Luke breathed.

 

A pause. “I’ll be over.”

 

Luke listened to the dial tone for a moment, then pulled his ear away from the phone reluctantly, panting. He kicked off his shoes, then shucked off his pants. His shirt followed a couple of seconds later. He was home alone; clothes were restricting, unwanted, shifting over his oversensitized flesh, sticking to his sweaty skin, clinging and cloying.

 

He padded down the hall, one hand circling an already erect nipple, pinching, grimacing as he tugged on the turgid flesh. He used his hip to open the bedroom door, feeling heat swelling through his tissues. Sweat broke out on his skin anew, coursing down his flushed cheeks. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, stared at himself for a moment, before he ducked his head and turned his gaze to more important things—a small collection of toys he’d amassed over the years, when heat became too unbearable on his own and his hands just weren’t enough anymore.

 

He debated for a moment or two—he rarely shared his toys with anyone, and he’d never even presented the option to Mason before. He had no idea what Mason was used to—if he’d even be comfortable with the idea. He’d leave aside the dildos and the vibrators, never mind the nipple clamps. They likely weren’t going to faze Mason—not much did—but he didn’t want to risk it.

 

And he didn’t want to look like too much of a freak he thought, eyeing the beads warily. They were pretty big, but he liked them well enough.

 

He grabbed out one of the plugs instead, shut the drawer. He headed to the bed, fished around in the bedside drawer. He tore open a condom package—he hadn’t cleaned, really, although fucking Matt and Danny should have fixed that concern if heat hadn’t taken care of it beforehand.

 

There was a reason bodily functions tended to grind to a halt when an omega went into heat.

 

Nonetheless, he slid the rubber over the toy, then slicked it up with lube before lying back on the bed. He spread his legs, lifted his hips, and pushed it in; there was no resistance whatsoever. Between getting stuffed earlier and his hormones, he was looser than he’d been in a long time.

 

Didn’t matter, he thought vaguely, clenching around the toy, feeling its base settle against his entrance, blocking him up good. He hated feeling empty, even during lulls in his heat, and it would be better to be full if hard heat crashed over him before Mason arrived.

 

He laid there for a while, lucid still, enjoying the sensation of being filled; he tensed and relaxed, feeling the toy slip and slide inside him as he did so. He closed his eyes and grabbed his cock, jerking himself lazily. He knew he wasn’t going to climax, but it felt good to get some friction on his aching flesh.

 

Inevitably, it became frustrating, so he released himself and rolled onto his stomach, fucking into the mattress to try and get some relief. It was futile, he knew, but his body needed, and in the primal state of heat, he didn’t have the willpower to resist the instincts that told him to seek gratification.

 

The doorbell ringing nearly sent him out of his skin. He slumped onto the bed, exhaled into the pillow.

 

He’d left his phone in the hallway, so he padded back out to the foyer, answered Mason’s request for access to the building. It was a shadier part of town, but the penthouse had been cheap, and Luke had redone it with the money he’d saved by not buying in a trendier part of town. He could have, but he liked the relative anonymity he had here. Nobody asked questions, and nobody knew where he lived it.

 

He texted Mason immediately after sending the code to the door. He waited a moment or two, but didn’t get an answer.

 

A rap on the door.

 

“It’s unlocked,” Luke said, setting his phone down.

 

Mason opened the door, and Luke met his shocked blue gaze, his eyes wide. “You aren’t fucking around,” the younger man said, stepping inside quickly and letting the door fall shut with a bang.

 

Luke swallowed, shook his head. He gritted his teeth. His breathing picked up pace.

 

Mason took off his jacket, kicked off his shoes. “Did you just get in?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Luke croaked, realizing only then how hoarse his voice was.

 

“You spent the night in Philly then? How was that? I’m sure the fans were pissed, did you have to go into the witness protection program—”

 

Mason paused, evaluating Luke shaking his head. “You came back last night then?”

 

Luke nodded. He turned his gaze to the floor. He didn’t need to look at Mason to know his eyes had narrowed, his nose scrunched up.

 

His voice was guarded when he said, “Where have you been then?”

 

Luke didn’t answer, just flicked his gaze up as Mason stalked around him, the motion of his body predatory now. He crinkled his nose again, inhaling deeply, and Luke’s mouth fell open a little bit because shit, he couldn’t have possibly washed the scent of Matt and Danny off him—

 

Mason snarled and the sound sent a shudder down Luke’s spine. ‘It’s okay,’ he thought frantically, ‘it’s not like we’re mated, we’re not even in a relationship or anything like that—’

 

Mason’s hands landed on either side of Luke’s hips, making the table he was leaning against jump. Luke jumped with it, met Mason’s angry gaze.

 

“Where have you been then, little slut?” he growled. “I stopped by last night and you weren’t here, you weren’t home. You been running around, sleeping in other people’s beds? Spreading your legs for another alpha? Hmm?”

 

Luke pushed him away. “That’s none of your business,” he groused.

 

“I think it is,” Mason snapped, grabbing him by the wrist and twisting, until Luke winced and came to his knees. “I wanna know who you let fuck your ass, I wanna know who you let mount you first.”

 

Luke bared his teeth back at the alpha, a desperate attempt to retain some control, some dominance. “What does it matter?” he sneered. “I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions—”

 

“I was here,” Mason countered, “so why’d you go running to someone else? Why’d you let someone else between your legs when you knew I was right here, Luke?”

 

“I—”

 

Mason hauled him up, tugging at his hair. “Slut,” he snarled, “fucking little slut, can’t keep your legs shut. Never mind—I’m gonna make you forget all about him, gonna fuck you ‘til the only thing you know is my name, and you’re gonna scream it—”

 

“Mason,” Luke said.

 

“That’s a good start,” the alpha said cooly, then smacked Luke’s ass. Hard. Luke jerked forward, the abuse sending the plug in deeper. Mason paused, frowning. “What’s this?”
He gripped at the base of the plug, started pulling it back.

 

“Uh,” Luke said.

 

“You whore,” Mason said, slamming it back in. “Couldn’t wait for me, had to get something in that filthy fucking hole of yours, huh?”

 

“Mason—”

 

The alpha pulled him in close, tilted his chin up. “Don’t you worry,” he practically purred, “I’m gonna fill you up real good, Luke.”

 

“Please,” Luke mewled, his resolve breaking, his desire to retain any control evaporating. He felt feverish again, sweat breaking out over his skin. He needed, a desperate need clawing at his insides, his raw nerve endings asking him for relief.

 

Mason grinned ferally. “Where do you want me to do you? On the kitchen table? The sofa? In the living room, on your knees—make sure you get rugburn? Right here, against the wall, screw you right here—”

 

Luke whimpered helplessly. “Anywhere, anywhere,” he moaned as Mason took his cock in hand, swiping his fingers over Luke’s slit, spreading pearling precum. “Anywhere you want, just fuck me, please—”

 

“Such a thirsty fucking slut.” Mason smacked his ass again. “All right, kitchen table, bend over for me and maybe I’ll give ya something.”

 

Luke didn’t quite run into the kitchen, but he knew better than to take his time either. That was an order, and Mason usually didn’t take kindly to his orders being disobeyed.

 

He draped his torso over the table, planting his forearms. He tipped his hips up a bit, angling his ass higher, came to his tip-toes as Mason entered the room, stripping off his shirt.

 

“I love it when you’re in heat,” he said, pausing to admire Luke. He dropped his shirt on the floor, then unbuttoned his jeans, wriggling out of them in a way that would have frankly been unsexy if Luke had given two shits about anything other than how hard and hot and real Mason was in that moment, how he was going to give it to him.

 

Mason kicked his shorts aside, then sauntered up behind Luke, running his hands down his torso, smacking his ass again. “Mmhmm, you’re just so pliant.”

 

Luke couldn’t disagree. He knew he took orders better when he was in the throes of heat—every omega did. It was just rather pronounced in his case, because he was usually pretty obstinate for an omega. He hated to be bossed around; it was often a power struggle between him and other alphas or betas, because he wasn’t going to bow down, kowtow just because he was omega.

 

He had to keep the ruse up for his teammates, after all. Until last night, only three or four people in the league had known he was omega. He wasn’t sure if that had changed now, but pretending he was beta, fighting back and acting like he was a rank higher than he was wasn’t just a matter of personality—it was a matter of survival.

 

It was no secret that omegas just didn’t get drafted into the IHA. They didn’t make it to the big leagues. It was hard enough to keep playing in the little leagues if anyone knew, because everyone assumed an omega couldn’t play competitive sports. Omegas weren’t competitive.

 

They were submissive. They’d just roll over and die at the first sign of conflict.

 

“And you smell so damn good,” Mason growled in his ear, nipped at his earlobe. He rolled his tongue down Luke’s neck, reached between his legs, gripping the base of the plug.

 

“So,” he said, dragging the toy back down Luke’s passage, “you want to play a little bit, hm?”

 

“Yes,” Luke said, choking on the word.
“Good,” Mason said, pushing the toy back in deep. “I want to play with you, Luke, I wanna make you suffer a little.”
Luke was mortified that he whimpered. Mason chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry—if you’re good, you’ll get the d, baby. But I can’t let you run around like some kind of Uber, giving everyone a ride.”
Luke groaned. He’d forgotten how awful Mason’s dirty talk was sometimes.
“You’ve been a bad, bad boy,” Mason murmured, his breath washing hot over the back of Luke’s neck, making all his hairs stand straight up. “I have to teach you a lesson, you naughty thing.”
He smacked Luke’s ass, and Luke rocked forward. He gripped at the edge of the table, gritting his teeth.
Mason paused, glancing about. “Wait here,” he said, then darted out of the room.
Luke let his head fall forward, exhaled in relief.
Mason returned with one of the paddles from the ping-pong table in the living room. He grinned wickedly, slapping it against his open palm. Luke stiffened up.
Mason patted his ass with the paddle gently once or twice, dragged it under one of Luke’s cheeks. “What do you think, Luke?” he asked. “How many whacks do you think you deserve?”
“I don’t know,” Luke replied, swallowing nervously. They’d never played like this before; he had no idea how to answer Mason’s questions. This was uncharted territory.
“You don’t know?” Another gentle whack. “Well, all right. How many people did you sleep with?”
“One,” Luke said, then jumped when Mason smacked him harder.
“Don’t lie,” the alpha snarled, “you’re wearing at least two scents that aren’t yours.”
Luke cringed. “Two,” he said, “two.”
“Better,” Mason said. “Two alphas—”
“One alpha,” Luke corrected, glancing over his shoulder at Mason.
Mason arched an eyebrow. “One beta?”
Luke flushed a brilliant crimson. “No,” he said.
Mason thought about that, then lifted both brows in surprise. “An alpha and an omega—a couple? Luke, you kinky bastard. Getting in between a couple.”
Luke squirmed. Mason leaned in. “So you had a threesome. Did you like it? Did you enjoy it, did you get off, Lucas?”
“Yes,” Luke murmured.
“Hmm, and what did you do, Lucas? Did you let them fuck your ass, one by one? Did you suck their cocks? Did you get spit-roasted?”
“Yes,” Luke said, his cock twitching with the memory.
“Yes what?”
Luke took a shaky breath. “Yes, they … fucked my ass, by turn. I played fuckmoppet for them. I sucked cock, I got spit-roasted and double-stuffed.”
Mason whistled low. “You are absolutely nasty,” he whispered, tapping Luke’s ass. “Such a filthy boy, such a slut. And here you are, asking me for more. It wasn’t enough for you, wasn’t enough to have them fuck you. Two cocks weren’t enough to satisfy your thirst, you greedy whore …”
Luke groaned and tipped his head back. “Please,” he moaned, shutting his eyes.
“Please what?”
Luke wiggled his ass. “Please,” he breathed, “I need more, please Mason, I need you inside me.”
“Slut.” Mason smacked him, hard enough that he yelped. He clutched at the table again. “All right, forty lashes.”
Luke inhaled.
“Do you know why forty?”
Luke shook his head.
“Fifteen for the number of hours you made me wait for you. Three for the threesome. Two for letting another omega fuck your ass. Five for each of the sex acts you performed with them.”
Luke bit his lip.
“And five for lying to me about how many partners you had.”
A finger ran down his crack. His hips jerked forward. “You’ve been such a bad boy,” Mason murmured, “so bad, Luke, so very bad.”
“I’m sorry,” Luke said, wondering if that was the right thing to say, if that was what Mason wanted from him.
Mason laid into him with the paddle, landing the first blow on his left cheek. “Are you?” he asked. “Are you really sorry? You said you liked it, you filthy thing …”
The second blow landed on his right cheek, evening out the abuse.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“I don’t believe you,” Mason said, and whacked him a third time, this time hard enough than Luke jerked forward, the entire table jumping with him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, panting a little bit, a little bit more desperate.
Smack! “You don’t sound sincere. Say it like you mean it.”
“I’m sorry,” Luke said again, then gritted his teeth as the next blow landed, right between his cheeks.
Whack! The sixth blow echoed. “I don’t know if I can forgive you,” Mason murmured. “You were so bad, Luke …”
“I’m sorry,” Luke said for what felt like the umpteenth time, but he felt more desperate now. “I won’t do it again, I’m sorry—”
Smack! He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes, digging his fingers into the table. “I’m sorry!”
“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”
He writhed, nodding.
“Tell me what you’re sorry for then, you slut.”
Luke panted, still nodding. “I, um, I’m sorry for lying—”
Another whack, this one harder than the last. His skin was stinging. He squirmed uncomfortably.
One, two, three—three more stinging blows, this time in rapid-fire succession. He choked on his next words, stared at the wall. “I’m! I should always tell you the truth.”
“Better,” Mason said cooly, giving him another tap, this one a little lighter, a little kinder.
Luke huffed, blowing his bangs out of his eyes as he exhaled. He squirmed a bit more. “I—uhhh, I’m sorry I …”
Mason’s hand was cold on his burning skin. “I’m waiting,” the alpha said when Luke continued to hesitate.
“I’m … sorry I didn’t call you right away?”
Smack! Luke jerked forward again, this time under the force of the blow rather than his own desire to escape it. He yelped.
“I’m sorry I slept with someone else!”
“And?”
Luke let his mouth fall open, panted for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry I let another alpha fuck me in the ass.”
He winced with the next blow, gritting his teeth. His ass felt raw, the skin burning. He could feel the heat of blood rushing to the abused area, a stark contrast to the heat-induced fever he’d been engulfed in before.
“Are you really sorry?” Mason asked. “You said you liked it, said you enjoyed it …”
“I did,” Luke whimpered.
“Are you lying to me again?” Mason growled. “If you enjoyed it, why are you sorry?”
Luke keened as a reply, which earned him another echoing smack. He trembled. “I, uh …”
“You’re not sorry, are you?” Mason’s tone was sharp, accusatory. “You liked it, you’d do it again if you could, wouldn’t you? Slut.”
Another painful blow. Luke closed his eyes tight, trying to block out the pain shooting through his backside. “No,” he ground out, “no, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I won’t, I won’t …”
Thwack! “Why not?”
Luke winced, then swallowed, trying to get his breathing back under control. “Because,” he breathed, “because it upset you and I don’t want that, I—”
“I’m not upset,” Mason said, then smacked him again with the paddle, landing it under his cheeks, dangerously close to his balls. Luke yelped again.
“You’re not in trouble because I’m upset,” the alpha explained calmly.
“No?”
“No,” Mason confirmed, then smacked him again, harder this time. Luke bit at his lip. “Why do you think you’re in trouble?”
“I … I don’t know,” Luke murmured, rolling his tongue through the wound he’d just opened up on his lip, tasting copper. Blood.
He yelped and jumped with the next blow, the paddle beating bruises onto bruises. His backside was aching now, throbbing. He heard Mason grunt and then he got spanked again. He felt each welt from the paddle’s raised pattern keenly.
“Guess then.”
Luke swallowed nervously, glanced hesitantly back at Mason. He didn’t know what the alpha wanted him to say.
Mason regarded him for a moment, then said, “You didn’t get permission.”
Luke gaped at him, uncomprehending. “Permission?” he spluttered after a moment.
“You went and fucked another alpha without getting permission. What kind of behavior is that for an omega?”
Luke bristled. Asking for permission from an alpha was something that omegas in steady relationships did. And this most certainly was not a steady relationship. In fact, he wasn’t even sure it was a relationship most of the time.
“I don’t need your fucking permission,” he snarled.
Mason slapped the paddle into his ass harder than he had all night. The table hit the wall; Luke yelped loudly.
He had no time to recover—Mason had rhythm now, raining blows down on him, one after another, a steady smacking sound filling the room as the paddle met with abused flesh, the force ever-increasing.
Luke sobbed, tried to pull away from the pain. He let his head fall to the table, tried to wriggle away. It hurt, it hurt more than he’d thought it could. Every blow was shoving the plug deeper into him now too, painfully so.
He thought he might throw up.
And then Mason stopped, heaving, dropping his arm. “Thirty,” he breathed, then grabbed Luke’s chin, forced him to look up at him. “Listen here, bitch,” he snarled, “I don’t care what you think this is—you ask for my goddamn permission before you stick anything up your ass.”
He smacked Luke again, ramming the plug in deep. Luke curled forward with a cry. “Including this,” Mason growled, pulling the plug out, tossing it aside.
Luke shuddered at the sudden vacuum, all his tissue throbbing, swelling against emptiness, against pain. Mason’s hand was cool compared to his inflamed skin, and the contrast was almost too much. He whined.
“Do you understand?” A smack punctuated the question, and Luke grunted, trying to swallow down the pain.
“Yes,” he sobbed after a moment, “yes, I understand, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”
“So? What are you gonna do next time you want to spread your legs?”
Luke shook his head, took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he wailed, because those were the only words he had. “I’m sorry, I won’t—I won’t do it again, only if you tell me to, only if you—”
His head hit the table when Mason spanked him again.
“Better,” the alpha said, then walloped him again. “Anything else you want to say?”
“And I’ll call you right away, only you, only you, unless you say otherwise, but I won’t—I won’t—”
Another slap, and Luke tensed up, whining loudly. “Please,” he whimpered.
“Better,” Mason murmured. “But please what?”
“Please stop,” he whispered.
“Mm, did you ask them to stop? No?”
Luke cried out again when the paddle connected, pain blossoming behind his eyes. He saw spots. He felt sick. “Please,” he begged.
“Every time you ask me to stop, you earn yourself another spank.”
Luke whined, then bit his lip hard as Mason smashed the paddle against his ass, right over his crack, then landed another blow just above his balls. He shut his eyes tight, still whimpering.
“And whining like that gets you extra whacks too.”
Luke pressed his lips together and tried to seal sound in his throat.
“I think that’s what, another three?” Whap! Luke tasted blood, warm and thick in his mouth, but he swallowed it down.
Mason cracked the paddle over him again, and Luke squeaked, air forcing its way out of his nose.
“Two more,” Mason assured him.
Two more. He could do it. He could do that.
Crack! The paddle sounded like a whip, and Luke couldn’t help himself; he cried out, rocking forward. “Oh god!”
“Hush,” Mason ordered. “Only one to go.”
Luke was trembling now, his legs quaking with the effort of staying in position, even with pain coursing through him. He swallowed down sickness, watched black spots dance before his eyes. He felt light-headed, dizzy.
Mason dropped the paddle to the floor, turned him over. His back connected with the table; he curled his legs in toward his chest. He risked a look up at Mason, tried to focus on him as he leaned forward, pushing Luke’s legs apart. “Look at you,” he snarled, wrapping his hand around Luke’s prick and tugging, “you’re getting off on this. You like this, you like it when I hurt you. Does it turn you on, does pain get you off?”
His grip slipped lower, palming Luke’s balls, then probing at his hole. Luke groaned. “Fuck,” Mason growled, “you’re so thirsty, you want this so bad. Look at you.”
He pulled back, and Luke felt himself clenching around nothing. He choked on an embarrassed protest. Mason shoved his fingers back in, one-two-three. “Such a slutty hole,” he growled, pushing his fingers in deep, then pulling back. Luke winced when he pushed in again, picking up a steady rhythm, angry and stabbing at Luke’s already-tender tissues.
“You’re such a slut,” Mason panted, “can’t keep this hungry hole of yours full, can you? Christ, you got filled up real good, two cocks, two cocks, Luke, and you’re still desperate for some dick, aren’t you?”
“Please,” Luke whimpered, hating the flutter of excitement in his belly, the adrenaline shooting through his veins at the very thought. He got wetter and flushed in embarrassment. His hole tightened around Mason’s fingers.
Mason laughed. “Don’t worry,” he purred, stepping back, stroking himself lazily. Luke eyed his prize, then looked at Mason, who grinned back at him. “I’ll sate that hunger, I’ll slake your thirst. I’ll fill you up real good, Luke—do you want that? Do you want me in you?”
“Oh,” Luke groaned. Mason laughed again; no doubt he could see what was going on between Luke’s legs, which was a better indication of what he wanted than any words could ever be.
“Tell me,” Mason ordered.
“Uhnn,” Luke huffed, biting at his lip, lifting his hips. He didn’t know if he could.
“Say it,” Mason pressed. “Tell me how bad you want it, tell me how bad you want my cock.”
“Please!” Luke shouted.
“C’mon, Luke, you can do better than that.”
Luke lifted his head, catching Mason’s impish gaze. “Please,” he huffed, “please, Mason, put your cock in me, fill me up, please—I need you, I want it so bad—”
“What do you want?”
“You prick!” Luke snapped. “Hurry up and fuck me already!”
“What’s that? You want my prick?”
“Yes!” Luke snarled, grinding his teeth together. He stared at Mason for a moment and then he broke, letting his head fall back against the table with a thump, screwing his eyes shut. “Yes, fuck, yes, please, Mason! I want you, I need you inside me, now, please, I can’t wait, I can’t take it anymore!”
Mason gave him a couple of long, leisurely strokes instead, drawing forth a shuddering cry from Luke. “Please,” he breathed, writhing, “oh god, please, don’t tease me—”
“But you’re so fun to tease,” Mason murmured, and Luke looked up at him, his bright eyes, his parted lips, flushed skin, and fuck, he was just as gone as Luke, getting off just as hard.
“Mason,” he pleaded.
“Yeah,” Mason breathed, “yeah, okay, I’ll stick ya.”
He shoved into Luke without much ceremony. Luke groaned loudly as the alpha finally sank into him. He wrapped his legs around the alpha’s waist as Mason straightened up, “I forgot how good you feel,” Mason murmured, “all tight and warm around my prick.”
Luke whimpered.
“Does it feel good?” Mason asked. “Do I feel good inside you? Do you like being on my cock?”
“Yes,” Luke hissed, rolling his hips forward, hoping Mason would take the hint and start moving.
“Mmhmm,” Mason murmured, taking a slow, shallow thrust. “Oh god, Luke, I missed you, I missed having you underneath me.”
Luke stiffened up even more, and Mason had the audacity to laugh at him. “Don’t get a big head now,” he sneered, “you’re still just an omega slut.”
Luke clamped down on him and he groaned, pitching forward, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, Luke.”
Luke whimpered again, and this time, Mason growled in response. “So fucking hot,” he said, then started pumping in and out of Luke, finally getting serious. Luke rocked his hips up to meet him, shuddering at the sensation of Mason’s hard cock scraping down his insides, then pushing him apart again, stretching him open.
“Oh,” he breathed when Mason jammed up against that spot—it had scarcely been a secret between them for years, and Mason had lots of practice at finding it. He gritted his teeth and adjusted his angle, tipping Luke’s hips up just a little more.
“Oh fuck,” Luke spat, his eyes widening. Pleasure exploded through his veins, sensation screaming up his spine. He clutched at Mason, who pounded into him ruthlessly, hitting that spot over and over and over again. “Oh god.”
“You like that, huh? You like getting fucked hard and deep, you fucking slut—”
“Oh, god, Mason! Harder!” He gritted his teeth, listening to Mason’s breathing kick up a notch as he responded, slamming into Luke with more force. “Uh! Oh—fuck—Mason—”
“That’s right, I wanna make you scream, scream it for me—”
“Mason!”
“Louder!”
“Mason! Please! Mason, harder, please—fuck me—fuck me harder, oh—”
“Say my name, bitch!” Mason barked, landing his hand on Luke’s bruising ass, the slap echoing in Luke’s ears as he jolted, all of his muscles contracting in shock at the strange mix of pain and pleasure tilting him over the edge.
“God!” he cried, release washing over him, hot sticky liquid spurting out of him, across their stomachs, splashing over their skin. He tensed up, riding wave after crashing wave of pleasure, rippling out from the center, until his muscles went slack, fatigue settling in.
“Well,” Mason said dryly, pumping slowly, “not quite, but I’ll take it.”
Luke heaved a shuddering sigh and looked up at him. “Prick,” he murmured.
“You like it,” Mason said with a grin, and Luke groaned.
Mason kept thrusting lazily, reaching down to brush Luke’s hair off his forehead. “You good, or you wanna keep going?”
Luke twitched. Mason grinned. “Okay—got it.” He licked Luke’s ear, then whispered, “Still a hungry, hungry little hole you have there, Luke. Are we ever gonna fill you up?”
“Please,” Luke murmured, letting his head loll across the table.
Mason grunted, pushing himself up higher so that he was drilling down into Luke. Luke let his legs slip from around Mason’s waist. “Fuck, it’s good,” he breathed, “keep going.”
“I love you in heat. Love that you can’t get enough of my cock, just wanna keep fucking.”
Luke exhaled, looked up at him. “If you felt this fuckin’ good,” he mumbled.
“You are so fuckin’ gone,” Mason replied, and he was gone too, his pupils blown. His breathing became ragged, and then he tensed up, gritting his teeth. He paused, then toppled forward, spilling inside of Luke, warmth splashing into him. He groaned low.
Mason was still shaking when he pulled back. “Okay,” he said, “I’m done, you want more, you gotta do the work.” He rolled onto his back as Luke stood, grimacing as come gushed out of him, dribbling down the backs of his thighs.
Mason grabbed himself, jerked his flagging erection as he gazed at Luke. “Get on top of me,” he said, “get on me and ride me. It’ll come back.”
Luke straddled his hips, pinning him down against the table as he sank down onto his half-hard rod. He planted his hands on the table, on either side of Mason’s hips. The alpha’s breath hitched. “Yeah,” he rasped, “you’re so fucking hot.”
Luke pushed himself up, then slid back down, watching Mason’s reaction. The alpha swallowed, then gripped at his hips, pressing fingertip bruises into his hipbones. Those were going to be hard to explain to the guys on Tuesday.
Mason’s gaze drifted up, finally locked with Luke’s. “God, you get me hard,” he said.
Luke took another experimental thrust. Mason brushed his hair off his forehead again. “Do you like that? Does that feel good, having me inside you? Does it feel good to bounce up and down on my cock like that?”
“Mm,” Luke replied, unsure of what else to say. He tilted forward a bit, then lifted his hips, high enough that Mason almost popped free; he clenched up at the last second, scarcely keeping him in, before sliding all the way back down.
“Fuck yes,” Mason breathed, “you tease. You fucking cocktease, Luke. Ride me.”
Luke groaned and lifted up again, then slammed himself back down. He shuddered as he did so, let his eyes flutter shut. He was in control now, fucking himself on Mason’s cock, sliding up and down as fast, as hard has he wanted. He picked up speed, ramming himself onto Mason’s hardening prick faster and faster, over and over again. “Fuck, Luke,” Mason groaned, his head rolling back. He lifted his hips.
“Oh!” Luke cried, then groaned low, panting, “Mason, Mason—”
“It’s good, it’s good,” Mason murmured, rocking his hips up with more force.
“Yes,” Luke groaned, “yes, fuck, please, Mason!”
Mason was huffing now, biting his lip and pushing into his elbows as he pounded away at Luke. Luke slammed himself down to meet every upward thrust, Mason going deeper and deeper every time. He was so close, so close to that spot, the need that Luke couldn’t touch, the ache, so close he was almost touching it.
Luke started to shake.
Mason grabbed his hips. “Yeah,” he said, glancing up at Luke, as if for confirmation.
Luke nodded mutely, his eyes widening. Mason bit his lip. “Unff,” he said, closing an eye, gritting his teeth. “Damn, Luke, you’re so tight, so fucking tight around my cock—”
Luke clenched up more, reveling in the building pressure. Mason groaned loudly under him, his elbows giving out as he dropped back. “Oh, fuck, Luke!”
Luke was shaking so badly he couldn’t move now; he let Mason rock him. The alpha looked up at him, almost desperately. “You gonna—Luke—you gonna?”
“Uh-huhn,” Luke managed in a tiny, scared squeak, nodding slightly.
“Fuck, then do it,” Mason breathed, “you’re so goddamn tight, I can’t, I’m gonna—”
Luke didn’t get more warning than that, just Mason thrusting in deep and finishing, exploding inside him, even more violently than the first time. He dug his fingers deep into Luke’s hipbones and kept thrusting through it, shaking now, looking desperately up at the omega.
“C’mon,” he panted, “c’mon Luke, come for me, baby, come—”
That apparently did it; all of the pressure that had been building was suddenly released, screaming through him like a sigh of relief, and he fell apart on top of Mason, keening high and long, his hole clenching frantically, and Mason huffing and puffing under him, groaning because he was still deep in Luke, and sensitive, so sensitive. “Oh god,” he groaned, and Luke pitched forward, collapsing on him.
He didn’t quite lose consciousness, but his vision was black for a moment, color slowly patching back in, and when he could see and feel again, Mason had him down on his back. Both of them were shaking something awful.
“You good?” Mason asked.
“Y-yeah,” Luke breathed.
“You good for a bit?” the alpha asked, pulling away. He was visibly trembling, his knees buckling as they were forced to hold his weight.
“Y-yeah,” Luke replied, closing his eyes. The tension, the burning need was gone; the fever was receding.
“Good,” Mason sighed. “I’m out, I need a break. Fuck, you know how to wear me out.”
He glanced at Luke. “I guess we should clean you up first,” he said, then dropped to his knees and spread Luke’s legs again.
Luke shuddered and groaned as Mason’s tongue passed over his hole, lapping at him gently. He lifted his head a touch, enough that he could see the alpha between his legs. “Fuck,” he groaned, dropping his head back, shuddering around Mason’s swishing tongue, swiping at the mess around his still-twitching hole.
Mason delved inside him, licking up the mess he’d made, then licked and nipped his way down Luke’s thighs, cleaning up the dripping mess. He swiped his tongue back up, then dove in again, thrusting in and out of Luke. He came up again, this time rolling tongue up over Luke’s balls, pausing to pop one, then the other into his mouth, sucking gently.
He pulled off with a pop and rose. Luke let his knees collapse inward. “Fuck,” he groaned.
“Later,” Mason said. “Want some pizza? I’m starving.”
Luke rocked his hips and rolled onto his stomach. He had no desire to eat. “Not hungry,” he murmured.
“Don’t lie,” Mason chided with a sidelong glance at him. Luke felt his hole contract again. “God, so needy. I could give you some more, huh?”
He meandered over to the counter, pulled out a severely out-of-date phonebook. “Who’s good in DC?” he asked.
“Google it, you twit,” Luke murmured.
“Ugh, but my phone is in my pants.”
Nonetheless, the alpha picked up his pants and plucked out his phone. “So, what do you want? Like, couple of pizzas, maybe some wings—any kind of pizza you want?”
“Pepperoni,” Luke said.
Mason paused. “I thought you didn’t—”
“Sausage,” Luke offered when the alpha turned to look at him.
Mason rolled his eyes. “Aha, very funny, wise guy.”
“I told you, I’m not hungry. I don’t want any food.”
Mason shook his head. “Of course you don’t,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat, Luke. Do you know how many calories you’ve probably burned? And—”
He opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of Energaids, tossing one to Luke. “You’re likely dehydrated too, get that into you.”
“Only one thing I wanna put in me,” Luke grumbled, cracking the top open.
“Fucking horny omegas, man,” Mason muttered. “Oh! Um, hi, yeah—can I get three extra-large pizzas delivered to …”
Luke sighed and chugged the sports drink while Mason wandered out of the room, placing the order with the pizza place. He wondered, vaguely, who he’d called, but decided it didn’t matter.
“Fifteen to twenty minutes,” Mason said as he returned, dropping his phone on the counter. He looked at Luke. “Pants. We need pants.”
“Might be good.”
Mason tossed his shirt at Luke. “Get some clothes on.”
“I don’t want to.”
Mason growled low in the back of his throat. “You’re for my eyes only. Get dressed.”
Luke shivered at the thought, then made a beeline for the bedroom. He fished out a loose pair of sweats and a tee. Clothes were the last thing he wanted right then and there, but Mason had a point. He couldn’t very well be running around buck naked when the delivery showed up.
Well, he could, but he doubted anyone would really appreciate that.
Mason was sprawled out on the couch, flipping through TV channels. “Don’t you have Netflix yet?” he asked as Luke sauntered into the room. “All the good shows are on Netflix.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Netflix doesn’t have ESPN, asshole.”
“Ugh, you watch sports? Like, seriously, Luke, we are athletes, you don’t need to watch sports in your downtime too.”
He swigged his Energaid and looked up at Luke quizzically.
“Maybe I like sports better than insipid sitcoms.”
“I watch nature documentaries, asshole.”
“Does Netflix even have any of those?”
Mason sprawled across his lap, stretching. “Netflix has lots of things, not that you would know.” He turned back to the tube, flipping channels again.
Luke raked his hands through Mason’s hair—still straight and fine, kind of fluffy now, like down on a baby duck or something dumb like that.
“Oy, what are you grinning ‘bout?” Mason poked him in the face with the remote.
“How dumb you look.”
Mason opened his mouth to reply, but was cut short by the buzzer. “Pizza!” he cried, darting to the door.
“Forget how dumb you are,” Luke muttered.
“Oy, shut up! Oh, not you—sorry—my jerkface roommate—”
There was a bang and a crash—the door falling shut—and then Mason wandered back with pizza. Luke inhaled appreciatively.
“Good thing it smells so much,” Mason murmured, “this place reeks.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “Oh shit,” he said.
“What?” Mason asked, tearing into his first slice of pizza, then gently setting the box down on the coffee table.
“We reek,” Luke said.
“Yeah,” Mason said, then frowned. “Wait, no. We smell pretty damn good.”
“We smell like rut and I have practice tomorrow.”
Mason considered that for a moment, then looked at Luke. His brows knitted together. “Dude, your coach is making you practice tomorrow?”
“We have playoffs now. We start on Tuesday.”
“Yeah, but, you should get a rest, ‘cause the post-season is brutal.”
“We had today off.” Luke blinked. “It is Friday, right?”
“Yeah,” Mason said, “it is.”
“So we’ll practice tomorrow and Sunday, rest Monday, skate Tuesday.”
“Well, shit,” Mason said.
“I’m gonna go back into heat,” Luke murmured, “I’m not gonna be done for the next couple of days. And even if I was, there’s no way I’d not smell for tomorrow …”
He glanced over at Mason, who was uncharacteristically silent. “Oh for—”
“Whaaaaat. I’m a red-blooded male, what did you expect when you told me you were gonna be in heat for the next like, three days?”
“I’m having a crisis here, you could wait to pitch a tent, Christ—and I thought you were tired!”
“I thought so too,” Mason said, “but I guess, for you, I’ll get back up.”
“Can you at least let me finish freaking out?”
“Oh, by all means. There’s still pizza here, so, like, take your time.”
Luke sighed. “You are the least helpful person I know,” he grumbled.
“What do you want me to do?” Mason asked around a mouthful of pizza. “You said it yourself, there’s no way we’ll get the stench off you for tomorrow. So, like, why fight it? You’re gonna go under in a bit, and you’re not gonna care when I’m screwing you to the wall.”
He swallowed noisily, then cleared his throat. “I mean, it just seems like so much effort.”
“Because I have to go to practice tomorrow, Coach is already pissed and he’s gonna have my head, I was late for practice and then I missed morning skate yesterday, took that boneheaded fighting major in the game.”
“So?”
Luke sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Look, just ‘cause you never go to practice—”
“I go to practice,” Mason countered hotly, frowning. “Sometimes.”
Luke lifted an eyebrow.
“Well, fuck practice anyway, who needs it! You either got it or you don’t, and I am happy to say—I got it.”
He grinned broadly, his eyes lighting up. Luke rolled his eyes as hard as he could. “You are so goddamn cocky,” he sneered.
“I was going to go with confident, but that too,” Mason said with a grin, letting his hand drop into his lap. He leered at Luke.
“I think you might be hornier than I am,” Luke said.
Mason widened his eyes. “Dude, have you scented yourself? Not my fault, you’re throwing pheromones at me like nobody’s business.”
“Oh my god, stop. Please.”
“You know you like it,” Mason drawled, leaning closer, dragging a finger down the center of Luke’s chest.
“Why are we friends again?”
“Mm, most of the time I think it’s ‘cause you like my cock.”
Luke went down gently, sliding back as Mason straddled his hips. He looked up at the alpha, studied the figure he made, sitting on top of him, shirtless, clad only in body-hugging jeans. The light was fading from the room now, the sunset streaking the sky outside the windows orange and red. The buildings outside were shadowy, and the couple of plants—house-warming gifts from his mother—that framed the window panes cast long shadows across the hardwood floor. The shadows crept across Mason’s face too, the setting sun haloing his head, wreathing him in bright, white light that contrasted with the deeper shadows across his chest, his abs.
“Earth to Lucas,” he said, rolling his hips forward, “hey, space cadet, you weren’t cleared for take-off.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Luke groaned. “Just when I think I might like you, you open your stupid mouth and start talking.”
“What else would you like me to do with my mouth?”
Their gazes met again. “I can think of a few things,” Luke said, his voice dropping.
“Oh, funny, ‘cause I can think of a couple of things too.”
He reached across the way, then grabbed another slice of pizza. Luke cringed. “Mason,” he hissed.
“What? You want some?”
Luke sighed heavily.
“Seriously,” Mason said, “you should have something to eat. I don’t want you passing out again.”
“Again? I didn’t pass out—”
“No, but, like, one time you did.”
“When? When did I ever pass out.”
“Oh, like, I dunno know now, Luke, forever ago, I guess—but we were fucking and you just, pff, out. Like a light.”
He shoved a finger into Luke’s face, jamming it up against the end of his nose. Luke’s eyes crossed. “And no, it wasn’t because you came.”
“I don’t remember this,” Luke admitted.
“Of course not,” Mason huffed, “you were unconscious.”
“I mean …”
“You were in the middle of a cycle. You went hard, and then … yeah.” The brunet paused, glancing almost nervously down at Luke. “I mean. It’s kind of freaky when your partner just … ragdolls.”
Luke didn’t know what to say.
Mason ducked his head, trying to hide the scarlet flush that was scrawled across his cheeks. “So, like, anyway asshole, have something to eat, or I’ll leave you here by yourself.”
“You wouldn’t,” Luke gasped. There was an unspoken rule that an alpha wouldn’t leave an omega in rut.
“I might,” Mason said.
“You couldn’t quit me if you tried,” Luke huffed, turning his head as Mason tried to force pizza into his mouth.
“Think that’s the other way around—will you just eat some goddamn pizza.”
“Fine,” Luke huffed, snatching the slice and tearing into it. “Are you happy now?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Fuck you, you’re not my mom.”
“I sincerely hope you don’t fuck your mother.”
Luke glowered at Mason. The brunet glanced toward the ceiling. “I mean, your mom’s like, super-nice, but she’s just not that hot—”
Luke clapped his hands over his ears. “Enough! Stop talking about my mother!”
“Dude, you’re the one who brought her up.”
Mason grinned at him. He just kept glaring.
“Finish your pizza,” Mason chided.
Luke didn’t break eye contact as he sank his teeth into the pizza, tearing off a bite of crust.
“Okay, okay,” Mason sighed.
Luke popped the rest of the slice in his mouth, then dusted off his hands. “Happy?”
“Hardly,” the alpha murmured. “Y’know, you’re pretty obstinate. For an omega.”
“And you’re pretty obtuse. For an alpha.”
“Mouthy little omega, don’t you know better than to talk back to your superiors? Maybe have to put that tongue of yours to good use, wrap your lips around something a little harder than words …”
Luke exhaled softly, felt the heat creeping up his spine again. He licked his lips, looked at Mason. The alpha looked back at him, his eyes glittering in the last rays of the day. His lips were parted; his skin was flushed. He reached up, pulled Luke in toward him, until their foreheads touched. Mirror images, their breath mingled, and Luke nodded, letting his gaze drift down again. He bit his lip.
“Okay,” Mason whispered. “Okay.”
Luke had always hated hard heat—it was qualitatively different than other points in the heat cycle. During lulls and even in the earlier phases of heat, he still maintained some control over his body. Even if he lost control, he still remembered everything that happened; he was still consciously aware of what was happening to him.
He had no recollection of hard heat other than mysterious bruises and aching muscles, half-remembered images, and the lingering sensation of heat burning him up from the inside out. There was nothing beyond that.
Hard heat forced him to let go; he was no longer an active participant in what happened to him. It was terrifying. It was one of the reasons omegas sought safe spaces and familiar alphas; they needed some kind of guarantee that someone was going to look out for them during that phase of the cycle, when they were so vulnerable.
Luke always fought it, fought it all the way down, but his body ultimately succumbed, overtaken by thousands of years of evolutionary instinct and primal urges. He could fight all he wanted, but heat was always going to win out in the end.
Most of the time, he tried to be alone when it happened. And if he couldn’t manage that, then he wanted to be with someone he trusted. It was so rare that he trusted anyone, though.
He glanced up at Mason again, seeking reassurance. The blue-eyed alpha nodded once. And Luke let go.

%d bloggers like this: