19. Questionable Lap Sitting

19

QUESTIONABLE LAP SITTING

Niall considered burying his phone and never looking at it ever again.

Jag knew.

Oh, gods, Jag knew.

He wailed into his pillow and flailed hopelessly in bed, afraid of looking at Jag’s messages in case Jag now thought he was disgusting.

Would he have to move out? Could he do that while completely avoiding Jag? Niall’s hands made him extremely slow, and he wasn’t sure he had a better option.

He thought about calling Evan so Evan could hold him while he opened the scary messages. His friends would read the texts for him.

His book characters were all braver than this.

Then again, his characters didn’t have lives that sucked as badly as his, either.

Niall sighed, eyeing the phone that sat untouched next to his pillow.

He should open Jag’s messages. He should at least say thank you, because his lawn looked amazing now. Jag had done it even though he knew Niall was writing a book about them.

Niall buried his head under his pillow, then carefully scooped his phone closer. With an exposed fingertip, he unlocked his phone and scrunched his eyes shut.

When he peeked out, he found his text conversation with Jag.

Jag

Did you forget your apostrophes? You didn’t add any.

Niall blinked at the message, stunned. “What?”

He looked at the texts that came before that.

Jag

You don’t have to be embarrassed. That was so fucking hot. And amazing.

[image sent]

This is how hard you make me.

I was waiting to see if you wanted anything special for breakfast. You have five minutes to put in your order.

Hey, I understand if you’re feeling embarrassed. Tell me if you need anything, alright? I want to make sure you’re ok.

Niall stared, trying to wrap his mind around all this.

Niall

You’re not mad at me?

Immediately after he’d sent the message, his stomach clenched. Jag could still be angry; he could’ve just not mentioned it at all.

Niall moaned and curled up, his guts twisting when his phone buzzed.

He made himself look at it, because he still needed to thank Jag for the lawn.

Jag

Why would I be?

Niall

Because I wrote a book about you without your permission

Jag

Scroll up to see the picture of my permission

[replying to Image sent] This

Niall’s blood swooped between his legs. Jag had taken the picture of his bulge from the top down. It didn’t show much because his sweatpants hid most of it, but there was an obvious wet spot at Jag’s tip, and... He really was big.

He’d liked what he’d heard of the glory hole scene.

Jag

Sweetheart, there is one question I need the answer to.

Do you want me to breed you?

Niall whimpered and hid his face again. There were little things in his other books, scenes where alphas held down their omegas and impregnated them. He’d written the breeding scene in Bred By His Alpha Neighbor, and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever put on paper.

So there was no point in denying his secret desires. Jag would see the evidence the moment Niall published that book.

Niall

Yes.

Jag

Fuck.

Forgive me if I’m being too forward. What you just said blew my mind. It’s one of my biggest kinks. My hands are shaking.

Will you let me read what you’ve written so far?

Niall

You won’t laugh at me? Or say I’m stupid?

Jag

Sweetheart. A book about what you want me to do to you? It’s going to make me come my brains out. Whatever you help researching, I’m all for it.

Niall blushed, his heart thundering. This sounded too good to be true.

Niall

You can come over whenever you want, I guess.

Jag

Have you eaten, or would you like me to make you some food?

Niall

I ate the scrambled eggs. Thank you.

Jag

I’ll make you more tomorrow.

Niall

Okay.

Niall squirmed on his bed. He wasn’t sure what he should do—run back to his computer and fix all the typos? He’d spent all afternoon adding punctuation marks to his glory hole scene, and then picking up where he’d stopped writing. He couldn’t write more at the moment; his brain had been wrung dry after everything that had happened.

At least the painkillers were working and his hands weren’t hurting much. He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, wondering what Jag was doing right now.

The doorbell rang.

Niall startled, almost falling off the bed. He’s here NOW?

He scrambled to his feet and hurried to the front door, checking the peephole.

It was Jag.

Niall slid back the deadbolts and opened the door, his heart thumping.

The moment Jag saw Niall, his gaze softened. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know. Nervous.” Niall squirmed and looked at his feet. “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Really?” Niall peeked at him.

“Do I look mad?” Jag held out his arms. He didn’t look revolted, either. Just... calm.

“No.”

Jag smiled again. And he stepped forward, pulling Niall into a big, warm hug. Niall’s breath rushed out; he hadn’t known how worried he still was, until he suddenly wasn’t. Jag’s embrace filled him with safety, with the comfort of knowing he was wanted.

“You write amazing books,” Jag said in his ear. “I can’t stop reading them.”

“But you’re here and not reading them.”

“Why would I do that when I can be reading the one you wrote about us?” Jag rubbed Niall’s back. “Is Konan going to break up with Neo because of his scars?”

Niall sucked in a slow breath. “I don’t know. I thought he was going to.”

“I think he shouldn’t. I think he should tell Neo early on that he treasures Neo no matter what.”

Niall’s heart tumbled. “I-I’ll think about it.”

Jag rumbled and nuzzled him. Then he swept Niall off his feet, holding Niall up with one arm while he closed the door and locked the deadbolts. He kicked off his shoes. “Is it okay if I read your manuscript now?”

Niall whimpered. “It’s probably full of mistakes.”

“Sweetheart.” Jag pressed a kiss to his temple. “I don’t care if there are mistakes. I want to know what you want from me.”

“I don’t want anything!”

Jag raised an eyebrow.

“It’s in the office,” Niall mumbled.

“I didn’t think of converting one of the bedrooms into an office.”

“It used to be my parents’ bedroom,” Niall said with a pang. “They died while I was... away. Evan said they went on vacation and someone mugged and murdered them. He didn’t do anything with their bedroom for years, until after I came back and started writing these books.”

“I’m sorry about your parents.” Jag dropped kisses all over his face. “Mine aren’t around anymore, either. They both fell sick at the same time. Troy is all I have left of my family.”

Niall wrapped his arms around Jag, hugging him tight.

Jag rumbled low in his chest. “You feel good,” he said, carrying Niall to his office. There, he looked around with a gleam in his eyes. “So this is where the magic happens.”

“It’s not magical.”

Jag snorted. “You’ve written seventeen books, sweetheart. Seventeen amazing books. That’s magical to me. I can’t believe you pretended they were not yours.”

“You haven’t read all of them yet! You can’t know they’re amazing.”

“I do. They will be amazing, because you wrote them.”

Niall’s face burned. “No one’s had that kind of confidence in me before.”

“I think you’re mistaken. There are plenty of people who love your books, and people who will read whatever you write.”

Niall squinted at him doubtfully.

“Really? Do you think there are no other omegas out there who want to find the love of their life? Omegas who want an alpha to come along and sweep them off their feet, and give them everything they’ve ever wanted?”

“Well, when you put it that way...”

Jag gave him a crooked smile. “You’re not alone in your desires. The only thing that’s different, is that you’re writing books to feed that hunger. And other omegas are reading them.”

“You’re not an omega,” Niall pointed out.

“I would like to have an omega to give everything to.” Jag’s voice dipped. “And you’ve given me a better idea about the kind of omega I’m looking for.”

“What sort of omega?” Niall asked hesitantly.

“Someone who’s not so confident. Someone who needs a bit of help seeing just how beautiful he is.” Jag rubbed Niall’s back, his warmth soaking through Niall’s clothes. “Someone who needs me just as much as I need him.”

Niall gulped. Jag leaned in, leaving mere inches between their lips.

“You write so well, sweetheart. I want signed copies of all your books. The one you gave me—that was from your own collection, wasn’t it?”

Niall ducked his head. “Yeah. I figured it was easier just to give you one of mine, rather than ordering something by express delivery.”

Jag snorted. “And you told me you had it shipped quickly.”

He smacked Niall lightly on the ass, just a small tap. It went straight to Niall’s cock. Niall gasped.

Their gazes locked. Jag rubbed Niall’s ass, and smacked it again.

Niall moaned. “Are you going to touch me for real?”

“I’m going to read your book,” Jag growled. “And I want you sitting on my lap while I do.”

“Oh, gods,” Niall whispered.

Jag settled with him in his office chair, which squeaked loudly in protest. Maybe this wasn’t the best way to read something, with their hips flush together, Niall’s legs open around Jag’s. They were both wearing sweatpants and not much else—Jag only ever wore sweatpants while he was at home, and Niall preferred to hide in the folds of his hoodie.

Jag waited as Niall logged into his computer, pecking his password on the keyboard one letter at a time. Niall opened the file with some clicks, and Jag caught his elbow.

“Hey. Does this hurt your hands?”

“Just makes them ache a little.”

“Let me handle the mouse.” Jag nuzzled his ear. “I don’t want any strain on your hands, so they can heal as quickly as possible.”

“Why’re you so nice to me?” Niall mumbled.

“I want to be. I want to give you all the very best things, sweetheart.”

Niall’s heart fluttered.

Jag increased the font size on the document so they didn’t have to be close to the screen to read it. Niall tried not to fidget as Jag read the opening pages—Neo finding out about his new neighbor, and secretly watching him in his intimate, jerking off moments.

“Mmm.” Jag rumbled, rubbing his hands up and down Niall’s thighs. “Spying on me?”

“I didn’t know if I could trust you,” Niall admitted. “And you never wear any underwear.”

Jag laughed. “You really like the grey sweatpants.”

“They don’t hide anything!” Niall blushed. “Your bulge keeps moving inside your pants. It’s distracting. I couldn’t stop looking. At first, I was trying to figure out if you were wearing underwear, and then I couldn’t stop wondering how big you are. I only found out the day you jerked off at breakfast.”

“Because of you,” Jag whispered.

Niall ducked his head to hide his smile.

Jag growled as Neo secretly jerked off while watching Konan do the same. “Did you do that? Touch yourself at the same time I did.”

“I can’t do much with my hands,” Niall said. “I rubbed myself a bit, but I could only do anything good in bed or in the shower. After you were done.”

“That’s a pity.” Jag stroked Niall’s inner thighs and continued reading.

Something nudged between Niall’s legs. When he looked down, he realized that Jag’s bulge lay between his thighs, and it was growing harder, thicker, pushing up against Niall’s balls the longer Jag read.

Slowly, Jag’s breathing changed. They were at the chapter with Neo’s wet dreams about Konan—half were Niall’s own, half Niall made up—and Jag’s breathing grew deeper, longer. Someone’s musk curled through the air, teasing Niall’s nose.

By the time they reached the glory hole scene, Jag had grown extremely hard between Niall’s legs, his fingers digging into Niall’s thigh, his hips shifting minutely as he rubbed his bulge between Niall’s legs.

Niall had to bite his lip to keep from moaning.

“Sweetheart,” Jag whispered. “Do you mind if I... take my cock out?”

Niall made a helpless sound, leaning forward to give him space. “Go ahead.”

“Fuck. The way you lift your ass for me.” Jag’s growl sounded more like an animal’s. He cupped Niall’s ass with his large hands, slipping his thumb between Niall’s cheeks to rub his hole through his pants.

He didn’t linger, though. He slid his bare cock between Niall’s thighs and pulled Niall back onto his lap, so Niall’s legs framed his length. This time, Niall could see every little detail—the smooth pink of Jag’s tip, the veins down his sides, the way precome beaded at his slit, tempting touch.

“Don’t touch it,” Jag said as though he could read Niall’s mind. “I just want to read right now.”

“Okay,” Niall whimpered. Gods, Jag’s cock was so indecent. It jutted up between his legs, big and heavy, straining against Niall’s sac. The more Jag read, the more precome dripped from his slit.

By the time Jag finished the glory hole scene, his cock was a dark red, and he was breathing hard. “Didn’t you write this scene earlier today? Why’s there already so much more story?”

“Oh. I was rewriting that scene. To—to reflect what I learned yesterday.”

“Mmm. That scene is perfection.”

And he meant it, too. Nothing demonstrated Jag’s approval quite like his leaking cock, his precome trickling onto Niall’s pants.

Niall stared at it with his hands useless by his sides. It wasn’t as though he could touch Jag properly—his hands would still be shriveled even without his casts. But oh, how he wanted to feel Jag’s silky hardness against his palms. How he wanted to squeeze Jag the way Jag liked, good, slow strokes that pushed his precome to his tip.

How did Jag have enough restraint not to touch himself?

Jag kept on reading, soft grunts falling from his lips. He kept shifting ever so slightly, half an inch of movement, his cock sliding between Niall’s legs.

“Sweetheart,” Jag rasped, his breathing unsteady. “Do you mind if I pull down your pants? So there’s nothing between our hips.”

Niall moaned and leaned forward, arching his spine to raise his ass.

Jag swore. He grasped the waistbands of Niall’s sweatpants and briefs, tugging them down his ass. Then he manhandled Niall and pushed the clothes off his legs, leaving Niall completely bare from the waist down. Niall shuddered.

“That’s it,” Jag murmured. “So beautiful.”

He pulled Niall close and slotted their hips together. His cock pushed up between Niall’s thighs, a hot, hungry weight against Niall’s sac. It looked so obscene—both their cocks hard and wet. Jag was big, much larger than Niall, and definitely bigger than Niall’s largest toy.

Niall wasn’t even paying attention to the manuscript anymore; he kept looking at Jag’s cock, at his wet, leaking slit, trying to swallow his drool.

What would it feel like if Jag rutted against him? If Jag tried to push his cock into Niall’s hole, stretching him open?

Jag sounded like he was trying to control his breathing. But the more he read, the more his cock jerked, precome coating its entire length. The sight alone would’ve made Niall wet, if he wasn’t already slick from spreading his legs around his alpha.

“Sweetheart,” Jag growled. “Do you mind if I—if I read with my cock inside you? No thrusting. Just—let your body hold my cock.”

Niall grew so wet, he leaked all over Jag. He leaned forward, his open legs helping to expose him. “Please. Now. Please, please, please.”

“Fuck,” Jag hissed. “ You are perfection.” He cupped Niall’s ass and spread his cheeks, admiring Niall’s hole from behind. Jag’s fingertips skimmed that bundle of nerves; he slowly rubbed Niall’s entrance, dipping his fingers inside to open him gently. Niall sobbed. “I think you’re ready.”

He’s going to put his cock inside me.

Jag lifted Niall’s hips higher. Niall felt the thick press of his tip—so wide. “Can it fit?”

“It will,” Jag murmured. “I’ll make it fit.”

Niall dripped so much, he knew he’d gotten his slick all over Jag’s cock. Jag groaned and pulled Niall onto himself; his cock pushed harder and harder against Niall’s entrance, stretching him, his tip sinking inside.

He’s inside me.

Jag’s breath rushed out. Niall moaned, trying to shove himself the rest of the way down. But Jag held him in place, preventing him from taking his alpha’s cock all at once.

“You feel so damn good,” Jag groaned. “So perfect for me.”

And he eased Niall down his cock, stretching him an inch at a time until Niall felt so fucking full, his own cock pulsing and ready to blow.

“Now, you’re going to hold still, and I’m going to read,” Jag rasped.

Niall whined, dropping himself down the rest of the way. “I need more.”

Jag snarled; his hips snapped up, his cock grinding deep into Niall’s body. Niall almost came. Except Jag held him still, robbing him of more friction.

Niall struggled. He needed more.

Jag closed his soft lips around the scent gland at the crook of Niall’s neck, sucking lightly. “I’ll give you more,” he murmured. “Just let me finish reading.”

How was Niall supposed to wait? Jag was bigger than anything he’d ever had before. He felt so good, hot and hard and promising, and all Niall could think about was Jag’s cock motionless as a rock inside him, holding him open.

Jag could pin Niall down and breed him like this.

Niall bit his lip and tried to be good. He tried to let Jag read in peace—this was what Jag had requested. He tried to read the words on the screen, but they blurred. Was Jag at the heat scene yet? Was he reading about breeding? What would it feel like to be flooded with Jag’s come?

His insides kept quivering, squeezing lightly, testing what it felt like to clench around his alpha.

Jag hissed. “Sweetheart.”

“I’ve never had a real cock inside me before,” Niall whimpered. He was starting to grow warm, too warm. “Jag, please.”

Jag’s breath shuddered out. “Just a while longer.”

“I can’t,” Niall said. Maybe his body didn’t like the way Jag wasn’t pounding inside. He was growing restless, a sluggish, hungry heat trickling through his veins. It sank low in his gut and made his hole tingle; it made him ache to be savagely filled. His limbs felt so heavy, his cock so full. “Please touch me. It hurts.”

His alpha growled and kissed his nape. “Alright.”

Jag slid his hands under Niall’s hoodie, rubbing his chest, finding his nipples and squeezing them until Niall panted. Then he stroked down Niall’s stomach and belly, wrapping his hand around Niall’s cock.

It didn’t take more than a couple of tugs. Niall came, pleasure rushing up his spine, his body clenching around his alpha’s cock.

“Fuck,” Jag groaned. “The way your body sucked on me. Like it was begging for my come.”

“Yes.”

“I just shot a big load of precome inside you,” Jag murmured breathlessly. He pulled his hand out of Niall’s hoodie and licked Niall’s come off his fingers. “It doesn’t look like there’s much left of your book. Okay if I keep reading?”

“Okay,” Niall mumbled.

He felt better now that he’d come. Something was still missing, but Niall could wait.

He really, really wanted to see Jag lose control at the heat scene—it had some really heavy breeding kink. And Jag had implied that he wanted to breed Niall.

Niall tried to be patient, but his body continued to grow hotter. A familiar need pooled in his gut and raked through his veins; he felt his ass grow wetter, his teeth aching as he fought back the urge to get on all fours. The words were right on the tip of his tongue: I need you to fuck me hard.

Niall swallowed them. Not yet. There would be time for begging later.

As a distraction, Niall rubbed his own cock lightly with his wrists; he was hard again.

“Which part are you at now?” he finally asked.

“The heat scene,” Jag rasped. He cut off his low groan, his fingertips digging into Niall’s hips. “Fuck. You—Neo sure got on his knees fast. He just bent right over and presented himself. Is that what you want, sweetheart? You want to present for me and beg me to breed you?”

Niall’s breath rushed out. “You’ll know if you keep on reading.”

“Mmm. Fuck.” Jag’s breathing grew unsteady. He gulped down shuddering lungfuls of air, growing tenser and tenser behind Niall. Like he was about to vibrate out of his skin. Or shove Niall down and fuck him like an animal. “Fuck, this scene,” Jag hissed. “Your dirty talk, sweetheart. You want me whispering that in your ear? ‘Do you want me to fuck you so hard, fill you with my come so I knock you up? Want me to shove my tip against the mouth of your womb, so there’s nowhere for my come to go but inside?’”

Niall moaned; his ass grew twice as slick around Jag’s cock. His entire body throbbed, heavy and wanting.

Jag hissed, his musk billowing around Niall. “This fucking scene.” His voice turned rough, his muscular body so tense, it felt like he might snap. “You want me pouncing on you. Pinning you down, slamming my cock into your tight little hole. Fucking you open so you gape and you have no choice but to receive all my come.”

“Yes.” Niall began to squirm against him. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Jag stood abruptly, with Niall still anchored on his cock. He bent Niall over the desk, pushing every last inch of his cock into Niall’s ass.

Niall cried out as he came, his body clutching around Jag. There was so much cock inside him. Jag’s thickness holding him open, making a home for itself inside Niall.

“Fuck,” Jag snarled. He thrust in savagely, so the desk screeched against the floor.

Niall didn’t even care; he felt so good.

“You smell so damn amazing,” Jag panted in his ear. “And you’re so tight around me, like you were meant to be mine.”

“Are you going to make me yours?”

“By breeding you?” Jag closed his mouth around the scent gland on Niall’s neck, scraping his teeth against it. Pleasure shot through Niall; he thrashed, his body clenching.

“Sweetheart.” Jag caught Niall’s arms and held him down. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I need more.” Niall’s voice broke.

“I’ll give you more. Patience, sweetheart.” Jag straightened, leaving Niall bent over the desk.

Jag went back to reading. Niall wasn’t sure how that was comfortable for him, reading while standing when he was so tall, but it didn’t matter. Jag’s cock was keeping him stretched. Jag rolled his hips once, his cock sliding against Niall’s prostate. Niall’s vision whited out.

As Jag read, his cock flexed, growing thicker. Niall tried to push himself down on it, but Jag held him still. Then he hiked Niall’s hips up, to receive him better. “I’m still reading. You’re—Neo’s leaking all over, begging for Konan’s come. My come. Want me to fuck you through the bed, sweetheart?”

“I s-should write that,” Niall whimpered. “Fuck me so hard that you break the bed.”

“I will try. You’ll scream and take my cock. And you’ll come so fucking hard.”

An animal sound escaped Niall. Jag reached around, wrapping his warm fist around Niall’s cock. Except he didn’t move. Just held him. Niall bucked his hips; Jag anchored him down harder. Niall could only let himself be held, feeling Jag’s calluses on his most sensitive parts, Jag’s cock buried deep inside him.

In that moment, he felt completely owned. As though he belonged to Jag. As though Jag had full control over every part of him.

And Jag would take care of him.

It felt good.

Jag began to pant. His cock jerked inside Niall, adding to the warmth inside.

“This scene,” Jag said through gritted teeth. “Fuck. The climax. The knotting.” He stifled his groan, but his hips twitched, sending a whisper of friction into Niall. Then he leaned in, panting against Niall’s ear, tense as though he was trying to restrain himself. “You want me to fuck you with my knot, until you black out.”

“Yes.” Niall squeezed around him. “I want to know if it’s possible.”

Jag hissed, his chest heaving against Niall’s back. “You just made me shoot another load of precome inside you.” Jag rolled his hips, pumping his cock in and out, so Niall writhed. “Fuck. You think I can come a second time, knotted inside you? Want to be stuffed full of my come, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Niall moaned, reaching back to fumble his cheeks open with his wrists. “Please. Please breed me.”

“Fuck!” Jag wheezed, doubling over like he’d been punched. The force of it shoved Niall harder against his desk, Jag’s breath heavy against his skin. “S-something pulled inside me. Behind my stomach. Fuck, I think my cock just grew bigger,” Jag hissed. “It hurts. Need to fuck you ‘til it stops hurting.”

It sounded really familiar. Niall felt his alpha throb against his inner walls, he felt Jag’s cock stretch him wider, big and hungry for his hole. But that tug behind Jag’s stomach...

It clicked in Niall’s brain, suddenly. And his entire body grew hot. “Did you go into a rut?”