Page 19 of The Feral Alpha

Rex sat back on his heels when he was pressed up against Olson, opening his legs wider, rubbing himself so he grew bigger. His cock needed to be inside Olson. It belonged inside him, all the time. “Need.”

Olson clutched his own thighs, his hands trembling. “I’m such a damn pervert.”

Rex took Olson’s hand. And he pushed it gently onto his bare cock, hissing at the pleasure.

Olson moaned, his hand closing around Rex, his chest heaving. “Gods, you’re so big.”

His touch alone was almost overwhelming. Rex thrust into Olson’s fist, throbbing. Olson whimpered. He didn’t yell at Rex; he didn’t snatch his hand away or try to push Rex off at all.

Slowly, Rex slid his cock in and out of Olson’s fist, growling at the way Olson trembled, musk rolling off him.

“Olson want,” Rex whispered, his precome dripping from his tip, landing on Olson’s leg. He carefully pushed Olson backward, into his nest, and covered Olson with his body, growling when Olson still hadn’t taken his hand off Rex’s cock.

Rex pressed his nose to Olson’s neck, inhaling the swell of musk blooming from his skin. Olson was ready to be filled.

So he reached down between them, palm flat on Olson’s chest, his belly, and further down, until he found that telling hardness. Olson’s eyes rolled back. “Fuck!” He writhed and panted under Rex, and his hand tightened around Rex’s cock. “We shouldn’t,” Olson mumbled.

He said that, but when Rex leaned in and closed his lips over Olson’s pulse point, sucking gently, Olson’s spine arched. A soft, needy whimper fell from his lips.

Rex grew so hard, he hurt.

“Why the hell do you smell so good?” Olson whined.

Rex pushed Olson’s pants down clumsily, growling when Olson’s bare cock jerked up between them, red and leaking. Rex stroked it with his fingertips. Olson made a choked-off sound. “Rex—”

His cock was so different from Rex’s. It was small, about half Rex’s size, but each time Rex touched it, Olson spasmed and gasped, more fluid leaking from his tip.

“Mine.” Rex leaned in to sniff at it. It smelled like Olson, all musk and orchid. Did it feel as good as when Olson touched Rex’s cock? It seemed to—when Rex closed his hand around it, Olson wheezed, his legs trembling.

So Rex squeezed him again. And again. Until Olson came with a shudder, milky fluid spilling all over Rex’s hand.

“Fuck.” Olson threw his arm over his eyes.

Rex licked up his come. It was bitter, and good, because it had come from his omega. But now he ached even more; he knew he’d given Olson pleasure. His own cock needed to be buried so deep that Olson thrashed and screamed around him.

He pawed at Olson’s legs, trying to make them spread, but the pants around his thighs made it impossible. “Mine.”

“We...” Olson bit his lip, his gaze dropping to where he was still holding Rex, Rex’s precome dripping all over him.

Olson drew a shuddering breath. And he squirmed over onto his front, lifting his hips, pushing his pants down to expose his smooth ass.

Rex’s mouth filled with saliva. He leaned in and squeezed Olson’s cheeks; he almost bit them, except he remembered Olson didn’t want to be bitten. “Mate?”

“Fuck.” Olson whined, pushing his hips higher. “Just—Just one more time.”

He reached back, spreading his cheeks to show Rex his wet, pink hole.

Rex throbbed. He snarled and mounted Olson, pushing between Olson’s velvety cheeks, thrusting to get his cock inside. But his tip skimmed over Olson’s hole heavily, without going in. He growled.

“Like this,” Olson said breathlessly. “You have to hold it.” Olson reached back, grasping Rex’s cock. And he guided its tip to his hole, sinking himself onto it so he stretched, his hot tightness opening around Rex.

Rex groaned and thrust in hard, sounds falling out of his mouth at the sheer pleasure.

It always felt so right with Olson, even in his dreams.

He held Olson down and pushed all the way inside. Olson shuddered and tensed, wheezing as he clutched at the blanket.

“Fuck, fuck—” Olson panted, his musk heady and rich. “Harder.”

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