Page 16 of Angel Boy
"Babe..." I start, but he's already moving, pressing kisses along my jaw and down my neck with single-minded determination.
This isn't just about physical relief, I realize. This is Angel reclaiming his agency, choosing what he wants after months of being told his desires don't matter. It's him finally reaching for something that's his instead of something that's been assigned to him.
The symbolism isn't lost on me—after a day of being Angel-Boy for the cameras, he wants to be Angel for me. He wants to give and receive pleasure on his own terms, with someone who sees him as more than a commodity. Even if his neediness is in some part because of his heat, Angel has always been like this. The moment we’d get into the car or back home, he was mine, and he wanted to show me that he was mine.
Angel was the same during his last heat, too. He'd been practically insatiable for days leading up to the actual heat, taking whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. I'd spent most of that time in various stages of undress because Angel would strip me down at a moment's notice, needing contact and closeness and the reassurance that I was there for him.
But we'd never done anything this risky, this…public. Always in the safety of his penthouse or my cottage at the edge of the city, never where there was a chance of being discovered.
Still, looking at him now, those eyes glazed with need, his face flushed with arousal and pre-heat fever, I know I'll give him whatever he needs.
I slowly maneuver him so he's leaning against the wall instead of me pressed against the door, giving us better positioning and making sure he's supported. "I'll give you what you need, babe," I tell him softly, moving to undo my pants.
Angel’s lips part, his tongue moving to coat his lips as I unearth my cock, already hard and leaking, ready for my needy Omega. He leans forward, my beautiful Omega’s lips encircling my tip, drawing a purr from the depths of my soul. It rattles through the room, the sensation of having Angel’s lips on me, everything I’ve ever needed.
“Jesus Christ, you feel fantastic, babe,” I rumble, sifting my fingers through his fluffy black hair, the other hand braced against the wall for support. I guide Angel deeper onto my cock, the warmth of his mouth making it hard to stay in control, but this is for him, for my Omega, for the man who stole my heart way before I ever was honest with myself. "Fuck, Angel, you feel so good," I purr, my grip tightening in his hair. "I need to come so badly. You're driving me crazy."
Even if we aren’t scent matches, an Omega’s heat scent will drive any Alpha crazy. However, I’ve always had a fondness for Angel’s, that sweet citrus tint to it that has me out of my mind.
Angel hums around my length, the vibrations sending shivers down my spine. When his scent intensifies further, I look down to see what he’s doing, my precious Omega grasping onto my thighs, his back arching slightly. Confused, I tilt my head and see the reason he’s so flushed. His barely there thong is obscenely stretched out with his erection, the fabric damp with precum.
It’s been a long damn time since I’ve made him come, let alone come untouched, but so close to his heat, his body needs the release. “You going to drink me down, babe?” My purr strengthens as Angel bobs his head up and down, one of his hands moving to squeeze around my knot. That’s all it takes asI thrust forward and spill down his throat. “Clean me up like a good little Omega. There you go, Angel.”
Angel hungrily drinks me down, his body stuttering too as he comes, his body sagging with relief. He leans back against the wall, my cock slipping from his lips as I step back, taking in the beautiful mess before me.
"You're going to be absolutely gorgeous during your heat, babe. I can't fucking wait," I say, my voice thick with desire.
He just sighs, straightening out his legs as he looks down at himself. “Fuck, I’m all wet. There’s so much slick, Xavier. I’m so empty.” Angel leans his head back against the wall, splaying his fingers across his silky shirt before slowly moving down to cup his cock through his thong.
My nostrils flare at the sight of him, my control about to snap when a knock sounds on the door. As much as I hate being interrupted, it’s for the best because it’s been too damn long since I stuffed Angel with my cock and knotted him the way he needs to be.
I quickly tuck myself into my pants and right my shirt before heading to the door. I crack it open, confused when there’s a young Beta standing there, the poor thing wringing his hands together before producing my phone.
“I—uh… Carter called. Well, he called three times, so I picked up thinking it was an emergency. He said that Angel was scheduled for an impromptu stage presence at the Rickland Center.”
I frown. "Angel is just getting changed, but that's not on the schedule."
The Beta shifts uncomfortably. "No, I know, but Carter was adamant. There’s a car waiting. Uh, and there's someone here to meet with you. He said this meeting couldn't wait."
That doesn’t make any sense. “Angel takes priority. I can’t just send him in a random car.”
“Right, there’s a guard waiting to take Angel, so he’s taken care of.”
There’s no point in arguing with the Beta because he’s just the middleman. Just by the Beta’s demeanor, I can tell that Carter was a bit of an asshole. “Thanks. Give me a few minutes.”
I close the door and turn back to find Angel slowly stripping out of his thong and the silky shirt he'd been posing in for the shoot. The fabric falls away so easily, his skin flushed and sweaty, his cock still hard. God, he’s gorgeous.
A soft chuckle rumbles through my chest as I hold my arms open to him. "Come here."
Angel eagerly stumbles into my chest, neither of us minding the fact that he’s going to dirty my clothes as I bend down to kiss him thoroughly, tasting the lingering saltiness of my release. I stay there for several seconds, memorizing the way he melts against me and the soft sounds he makes when I deepen the kiss.
And then reality crashes back in when I remember what's still on his schedule.
"Take a quick shower," I tell him reluctantly, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. "Carter lined you up for a performance at the Rickland before you can go home."
Angel's expression immediately shifts from blissful contentment to confusion and frustration. "But he knows I'm in pre-heat. Why would he do that?"
"I don't know, babe." And I really don't—scheduling an Omega for a performance this close to their heat seems cruel even by Carter's standards. "I'll be there in a little bit, but I've got a meeting. Your new guard will take you, okay?"
