His Two Alphas

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His Two Alphas Page 9

by Anna Wineheart


  He’s smelling me. Micah groaned, imagining Spike’s mouth around him again. He’d jerked off to that more times than he could count.

  Kai turned his chair away; Micah glanced over in concern.

  “He’s just being a grump,” Spike growled, unbuckling Micah’s pants, each yank of Micah’s belt sizzling down Micah’s spine. “But trust me, he’s gonna get really hard when I fuck you.”

  “I’m working,” Kai muttered, not looking over. “Scholarship, remember?”

  He would still hear any sound Micah made. Micah swallowed. And Spike dragged his tongue down Micah’s bulge, base to tip. His touch was muffled through Micah’s pants, but the promise it carried... Micah’s blood swooped between his legs.

  “Maybe we should make enough noise that Kai creams his pants,” Spike said, yanking Micah’s zipper down. “Or maybe he’ll join us and fuck one of our holes. Or both.”

  Gods, he was lewd.

  “Shut up, Ventura,” Kai muttered.

  “Make me,” Spike said, all cocky.

  Without looking over, Kai flipped his brother off. Micah wet his lips, squirming. The bed smelled like sex. How many times had Kai bent Spike over, and slid into him? Had Kai silenced Spike with his cock before?

  I want to see it. The thought slipped into Micah’s mind, unbidden.

  Spike curled his warm fingers into Micah’s pants. He yanked them down past Micah’s briefs, exposing Micah’s underwear in all its holey, worn glory. Micah yelped, covering himself up.

  “Sorry, I w-wasn’t expecting this,” he mumbled, his face hot. He didn’t have any nice underwear—he hadn’t expected to sleep with Spike a second time. Why didn’t I put a better pair on?

  Spike chuckled, lifting Micah’s hands away. “Do I look like I care?”

  He kissed the stretched fabric of Micah’s briefs, pulled taut by Micah’s cock. Then he began to unbutton Micah’s dress shirt. Micah caught Spike’s hands, panic fluttering through him.

  Spike met his eyes questioningly. “I want to see all of you.”

  Micah winced, wriggling his scarred hand. “I look like this, but all over.”

  “I want to kiss all of it,” Spike said.

  There was nothing but honesty in his eyes. When Micah still hesitated, Spike leaned back, kicking off his shoes. He pulled off Micah’s shoes, too, and hefted him onto the pillows. “Here, how about we make out.”

  “Why are you doing all this?” Micah whispered, his chest squeezing tight. This felt like... a first date, almost. Gods knew Micah hadn’t had something this intimate in years.

  “If I said I love you, would you believe me?” Spike caressed Micah’s cheek.

  Micah bit his lip, his heart fluttering with longing. It sounded too good to be true. “I don’t know if I can return your feelings,” he answered. “It’s just been a week.”

  Spike flinched, but he brushed his fingers through Micah’s hair, leaning over him. “You’re letting me touch you. I think that’s a good step forward.”

  Then he traced his fingertips down Micah’s face, gingerly touching the scar tissue. Micah tensed. Spike was caressing the ugliest parts of him, the parts that no alpha had touched. Not until Spike and Kai.

  Spike paused. “Sorry. Did that hurt?”

  Micah shook his head quickly. “N-no. I just... No one has done that before.”

  Spike narrowed his eyes. He pressed his forehead against Micah’s temple, dragging his nose up Micah’s cheek. “I’m pissed that no one’s told you how good you look. But I’m also secretly happy, because it means I get to have you all to myself.”

  Micah trembled, his throat tightening. “You want me that much?”

  “All of you is beautiful. I grew up thinking you’re the most beautiful person in the world.” Spike kissed the corner of his lips, his tongue flicking out to brush Micah’s skin. “I was so afraid that someone would come along and steal you away, ‘cuz for years, I thought to myself, this is who I want my omega to be.

  “Then I got into your classes and I smelled you, and—gods. You smell so good. I would’ve waited until I graduated, but you were in heat and—and I needed you.”

  Spike brushed his fingers down Micah’s scarred arm, never once flinching. Micah barely felt his touch through the destroyed nerve endings. His mind spun. He still couldn’t believe Spike’s love, but... he wasn’t about to refuse what Spike offered. Does that make me a bad person?

  “Is it okay if I see...?” Spike whispered, tracing his fingers down Micah’s chest. “I promise I’ll still be here. I promise nothing will change.”

  Micah sucked in a shuddering breath, fear fluttering beneath his skin. He almost wanted to say, Can we do this in the dark?

  But Spike nuzzled up Micah’s chest, on the scarred side.

  “Yes,” Micah said before he second-guessed himself. Before he started getting too attached to Spike, and the intimacy Spike offered.

  It’ll be for the best that he realizes he doesn’t want this.

  Spike broke into a smile. One by one, he popped Micah’s buttons, from the bottom of his shirt to the top. Then Spike spread open the fabric, and Micah’s scars—angry red whorls and bumps and divots—spanned his shoulder to his belly, disappearing into his underwear.

  Micah almost hid himself. He kept his hands clenched at his sides, trying not to look at Spike. His pulse thudded.

  Spike sucked in a slow breath, raking his eyes down Micah’s chest.

  “Sorry,” Micah said, shuffling away.

  But Spike caught his hands. “Wait. Can I see the rest of you?”

  Micah looked up, surprised. “You want to?”

  Spike nodded. “For the longest time.”

  How that was possible... Micah wasn’t sure. But if Spike wasn’t scared away... maybe Micah should let him do as he pleased. “If you want to.”

  Spike brought Micah’s hand to his lips, kissing his scarred knuckles. “Thank you.”

  Carefully, Spike swept Micah’s clothes down his legs, leaving him completely bare. The cool air of the room brushed Micah’s skin.

  Unable to help himself, Micah crossed his arms over his body, curling himself up. He needed to minimize the exposed flawed skin. Even if Spike wanted this, it was all just so ugly.

  I should just leave. I shouldn’t have come here thinking there’ll be sex. Micah trembled, his eyes burning.

  But Spike hugged Micah to himself, and kissed him on the lips. Then he kissed down Micah’s neck, to his shoulder, and down Micah’s chest. All he touched was scarred skin.

  With every kiss, Spike lingered, as though he was... savoring Micah. Micah’s heart thumped.

  “Thanks for showing me,” Spike whispered, his breath warm. “I can’t imagine how much it must’ve hurt.”

  Micah tried not to remember the fire. “It didn’t hurt so much after I lost my nerve endings.”

  Spike looked horrified. “Can you still... feel?”

  He stroked his fingers down Micah’s arm, leaving a whisper of pressure on Micah’s skin. Micah gulped, his heart raw. Part of him wanted to tell Spike not to treat him like fragile china. The other part wanted to shut up, and savor everything Spike gave him.

  “A little,” Micah mumbled, looking down at Spike’s shirt. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay. Just sex, then,” Spike whispered, moving up to kiss Micah’s lips. “I want to make you feel good.”

  That sent Micah’s blood rushing back south. He whimpered, his cock growing full, his musk filling the air around them. How was he this desperate for touch?

  “You aren’t naked,” Micah mumbled, trying to take Spike’s attention off himself.

  A rakish grin spread through Spike’s face. “You wanna watch me strip?”

  Micah stared. If he were anyone but Spike’s professor, he would’ve said Yes.

  But maybe Spike could read him, anyway. Spike reared back on the bed, peeling his shirt off his chest. His abs were defined, his pecs broad and flexing, and his biceps—they
were thick, strong. Micah’s throat went dry. He wanted to touch. Wanted to press his face against Spike’s chest, and just... savor him.

  A patch of pale skin stretched across Spike’s tanned shoulder. They were scars, Micah realized a second later. Bite marks. So many that it looked like they’d all been left at the same time, except Micah knew they weren’t. And there were none where Spike’s scent gland was.

  Micah felt a pang. That had to be what Spike had been upset about. Kai biting him, but never once giving him a bonding mark. How long have you needed a bond?

  Spike caught him staring. He flexed his arms, his muscles bunching. “You like?”

  Micah’s cock jerked eagerly. He tried to cover himself, but Spike was already grinning.

  “I’ll show you my cock,” Spike said. “Do you wanna taste it?”

  He was unbuckling his belt before Micah even said yes. Spike opened his pants, hooking his thumb into his waistband, shrugging out of all his other clothes. His thighs were bronzed, and the V of his hips... they led right down to the thick cock straining up, precome smeared across his tip.

  A whimper slipped past Micah’s lips. Last week, he’d been preoccupied with both Kai and Spike, so he hadn’t the chance to admire Spike’s cock up close. But Kai was at his desk today, and Spike... Spike ran his hands down his own body, circling his fingers around his cock, pumping it.

  “No worries if you don’t,” Spike rumbled, squeezing himself base to tip.

  Micah imagined Spike’s callused hand on his own cock, and moaned. His cock leaked. He needed something big inside him, something like Spike’s cock. He held onto the sheets, his hunger building in his veins.

  “I’m—I’m your professor,” Micah blurted, sitting up.

  “You’re my omega right now,” Spike rumbled. He swept his thumb around the crown of his tip, and Micah’s mouth ached to close around him. “Taste me. That’s an order.”

  Micah dripped. It’s an order. I’m just—obeying it.

  He was crawling across the bed, pausing right in front of Spike. Spike’s cock was flushed, fine veins crisscrossing down his length, his balls heavy with come. Spike squeezed himself, and a drop of precome oozed from his slit.

  Micah leaned forward, catching that drop on his tongue. It was salty, musky. He licked up Spike’s cock, breathed in Spike’s musk, and closed his lips around Spike’s blunt tip. Spike was so big; he filled up Micah’s mouth. Micah whined around him.

  “Fuck,” Spike rasped, his cock jerking. “You look so good like that. I wanna feed you my cock. But I also want to taste you and make you scream.”

  “No screaming,” Kai growled over by the desk. “I don’t want someone hammering on our door.”

  Micah flushed, expecting Kai to turn around and see him in all his nakedness. But Kai didn’t.

  Spike smirked. “I thought you were busy with homework.”

  “I am,” Kai muttered. Then he shut up, and Micah didn’t know if Kai was still listening. Probably.

  Spike ran his fingers through Micah’s hair. “You’re doing good,” Spike growled. Then he pushed his cock deeper into Micah’s mouth, filling him up. “Ah, fuck.”

  Micah groaned around him. He sucked on Spike, eager for another taste of his precome. He wanted Spike to moan. He wanted to see Spike lose control. So he took Spike deeper, watching as Spike’s chest heaved.

  “Micah,” Spike rasped, his pupils blown wide. “Gods, fuck. You look incredible. I can’t—can’t last so long.”

  So Micah slid off Spike’s cock, then sucked him back inside, over and over, until Spike grasped Micah’s head and pulled away, panting hard.

  “You’re close,” Micah whispered, Spike’s desperation triggering something hot inside his own body.

  “I spent years thinking about you sucking me off,” Spike growled. A second later, he nudged Micah’s mouth with his tip, fitting it back inside. “I wanna cover you with come. I want to fill you up with it. I want to hear you scream when you clench around me.”

  His cock swelled, nearing the edge. Micah pulled away. Pressed his palm against Spike’s abs, so Spike wouldn’t try to fuck back inside.

  Spike swore, panting, his hips jerking with desperation. “Micah—”

  Micah turned around onto all fours, spreading his legs, pushing his ass up at Spike in invitation.

  Spike cursed. He grasped Micah’s cheeks, spreading them open, his thumb sliding through Micah’s slick. Then he leaned in, pressing his forehead against Micah’s spine. “Can’t. I’m not—not gonna blow my load so fast. Not with you.”

  10

  Micah

  For long moments, Spike panted raggedly, his breath hot on Micah’s skin. Micah imagined his need, his own cock aching, his slick trickling down his thighs. He’d loved the taste of Spike’s cock. Loved the way Spike fucked into his mouth, his cock heavy and demanding.

  Slowly, Spike began kissing up Micah’s spine. He kissed across Micah’s shoulder blades, his lips damp and soft. Then he fitted his cock between Micah’s legs, so it pressed against Micah’s sac, big next to Micah’s own cock.

  “What’re you doing?” Micah whispered, his hole aching to be filled.

  “Marking you,” Spike answered.

  Micah’s heart fluttered.

  Spike stroked his wrists down Micah’s arms, leaving a trail of juniper. He brushed his scent up Micah’s sides, along his throat and collarbones, to his chest. Then he stroked his wrists down Micah’s hips and thighs and calves, pressing them against Micah’s feet.

  Micah trembled. He hadn’t been marked this thoroughly in a long time. Especially on his scarred skin. This was Spike staking his claim, and it felt so good just to belong.

  Carefully, Spike brushed his wrists back up Micah’s shins, then his inner thighs. He marked the small of Micah’s back, and his belly, too.

  “But you said you’d mark—” Micah stopped himself, acutely aware of the one spot Spike had missed.

  “I’ve marked you all over, haven’t I?” And now there was a smile in Spike’s voice. “Did I miss something?”

  “You haven’t marked—” Micah swallowed. He shouldn’t have so much trouble just saying it.

  “Tell me,” Spike rumbled, stroking Micah’s thighs.

  “My cock,” Micah blurted, his face burning. “You haven’t marked it.”

  Spike growled. “You’ll have to ask me for it.”

  Micah whined, his ears and neck burning now. He shouldn’t be. Except he wanted his cock to belong to Spike, too, and it was so very shameful.

  “Please mark my cock,” Micah said, his voice breaking. He opened his legs, angling his hips up to give Spike better access. “Spike.”

  “Fuck,” Spike whispered, his musk billowing through the room.

  He reached between Micah’s legs, dragging his wrist down Micah’s balls, and up his cock. His wrist was warm, firm, and Micah ground against it, seeking pleasure.

  “Keep still,” Spike growled. He locked one hand around Micah’s thigh, then shoved his wrist against Micah’s cock, grinding down on its underside, then its sides. Pleasure shot through Micah’s body. He thrashed, needing more, his skin too tight. Spike was rubbing his scent into Micah’s cock, as thoroughly as he could.

  Then Spike angled Micah’s cock down and dragged his wrist against the last side, firmly, as though Micah belonged to him. Micah almost came all over his arm.

  But Spike pulled away. He let Micah’s cock spring back up, needy and neglected, a trail of precome hanging from its tip. Micah writhed, his cock so hard it hurt.

  “I need to come,” he whined, reaching down.

  Spike caught his hand, anchoring it against his back. “No. I marked your cock. I’ll tell you when to come.”

  Micah pulsed. He spread his legs wider, trying to tempt Spike inside. Spike groaned. He palmed his own cock, then grasped Micah’s ass, spreading his cheeks so the cool air of the room brushed his hole.

  Micah’s hole squeezed; Spike swore, and leaned in. His stubb
le scraped against Micah’s sensitive skin. Then he kissed Micah right on his hole and pushed his tongue in, opening him up.

  A desperate sound ripped from Micah’s throat.

  Across the room, Kai shoved his chair back with a clatter. His eyes flashed; Spike paused.

  Over his shoulder, Micah watched as Kai strode to the door, a prominent bulge between his legs, a dark spot at his tip.

  “Told you he’d get hard,” Spike whispered. Then he shoved the soft, damp point of his tongue back into Micah, tasting him inside.

  Micah whined. He’d never done this before. He didn’t know what to do when an alpha licked him inside, when he was tasting Micah, and he needed Spike’s cock opening him up right now.

  “Inside,” Micah begged, shoving his hips at Spike. “Spike, please.”

  Spike slid out. But he shoved two fingers into Micah, probing his hole. Micah jerked, precome squirting from his cock. His legs shook. Sweat prickled all over his skin, and he didn’t know how long he could hold on.

  Kai had paused at the door, one hand on the door handle, his forehead pressed against the doorjamb. His other hand had disappeared in front of himself, working up and down.

  Micah remembered Kai’s cock, curved and long, grinding up against the sweet spots in his body. And inside him, Spike’s fingers crooked, pressing down on his prostate. Micah cried out.

  “Kai isn’t in a rut. He’s getting off on listening to us,” Spike murmured, grinding his own cock against Micah’s hip. “It’s making his cock all wet. Want it inside you?”

  Micah shuddered, growing slicker. He had loved taking them inside him last week. Was Kai jerking off to Micah, or Spike? Or both of them? Micah’s cock throbbed, smelling like juniper.

  “I want you,” he breathed, angling his ass toward Spike. “Please. I need to come.”

  Spike growled, flipping Micah onto his back. He raked his gaze down Micah’s front, and Micah felt self-conscious again. Except Spike grasped Micah’s cock, pumping it roughly. Bliss shot down Micah’s spine; he arched, dripping all over Spike’s hand.

 

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