Chapter 3

Lucas

I woke suddenly, disoriented and panting, my body burning like never before. The dream lingered, vivid and intense—an alpha, strong and dominant, claiming me roughly while I begged for more. I shook my head, trying to dispel the remnants of the fantasy, only to freeze mid-movement when reality hit me square in the chest.

Marco stood beside the bed, tall and imposing, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the moonlight streaming through the windows. Naked, hard, and staring down at me with hunger plain in his dark gaze. Fuck. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

"Marco..."I whispered, unsure if I wanted to ask why or beg him not to stop. My mind screamed warnings, urging caution, but my traitorous body betrayed me, responding eagerly to his presence. I shouldn't have decided that staying here was a good idea. It really wasn't. Not to mention, Kessia was probably worried sick about me.

His lips curved into a smirk, knowing full well the effect he had on me."You were calling for me, Lucas?"His voice was gravelly, sending shivers down my spine.

"I-I don't know what-"I started, only to gasp sharply as he reached out, tracing a finger along my jawline, down my neck, and further south, following the collar of my robe.

"No lies between us now,"he murmured, leaning closer, breath hot against my ear."Not when your heat calls out to me."

Heat flushed my cheeks, embarrassment warring with arousal. Damn my stupid body! But even as I cursed myself internally, I arched into his touch, craving more contact, more friction. More of him.

He chuckled softly, seemingly amused by my predicament. Then, without warning, he grasped the lapels of my robe, yanking them apart forcefully. Fabric tore easily under his strength, baring me completely to his hungry stare.

"Fuck, Lucas,"he growled appreciatively, taking in my naked form."You're beautiful."

Before I could respond, his large hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing lightly against my lower lip. Instinctively, I parted my lips, sucking gently on the pad of his thumb. His pupils dilated instantly, darkening those stormy irises.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?"He rasped, pulling his thumb free slowly, trailing saliva across my chin."Let's see how greedy you can be."

My confusion lasted only a heartbeat before understanding dawned on me. Oh god, no. No way. Not happening. Yet, my protests died unspoken as he grabbed a handful of hair at the nape of my neck, guiding me downwards, pressing my face against his throbbing erection.

The musky smell of him enveloped me, filling my nostrils and making my own cock twitch painfully. Jesus Christ, he smelled amazing. Tasted even better. Salty and sweet, all male and dominant. I groaned, unable to hold back, lapping at the precum leaking generously from his tip. It was delicious. No point in lying to myself.

He grunted above me, pleasure clear in the sound. Encouraged, I took him deeper, swirling my tongue around his length, exploring every vein and ridge. He really tasted incredible, unlike anyone else ever had. And judging by his grip tightening in my hair, he seemed to agree.

"That's it, baby,"he urged gruffly, thrusting shallowly into my mouth."Suck me off. Show me what that pretty mouth can do."

I moaned around him, loving the dirty words, the commanding tone, the way they made me feel so fucking desired, so needed. I sucked harder, bobbing my head faster, desperate to please him despite everything screaming inside me about the danger I was courting.

He fucked my mouth relentlessly, holding me steady as he set the pace, hitting the back of my throat repeatedly until tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I gagged, tried to pull away, but he held firm, forcing me to take it all.

"You can handle it, omega,"he panted, slowing slightly but not stopping entirely."Take it like a good boy."

A whimper escaped me, part protest, part plea for mercy. His response? A low laugh, followed by a sharp smack to my cheek with his free hand."None of that, Lucas. You want this; you'll take it."

Tears spilled over, rolling down my cheeks as I struggled to breathe around his thickness. God, it felt wrong yet right, humiliating yet empowering. I hated it... loved it...

He suddenly withdrew, leaving me gasping desperately for air. Before I could recover fully, though, he flipped me onto my hands and knees, positioning himself behind me. What?

"Shh,"he soothed, running a calming hand down my spine."Relax, Lucas. Let me make you feel good."

I couldn't speak when he slid two thick fingers inside me, scissoring them expertly, stretching me wide.

"Fuck!"I gasped, arching backward instinctively, chasing more of his touch. My cock leaked profusely, dribbling onto the sheets beneath me, marking them just as surely as Marco intended to mark me soon enough.

"Goddammit, Lucas,"he swore roughly, withdrawing briefly before plunging back in, adding another digit to stretch me further."You're so tight. So perfect."

Perfect? For him maybe, but certainly not for me. Or so I thought, until he curled those fingers upwards, grazing something deep within me that sent stars exploding behind my eyelids.

"Yes!"I screamed, shamelessly rutting against his hand, needing more pressure, more friction, more everything.

He obliged, pumping his digits in and out of me ruthlessly while using his other hand to stroke my aching cock. Pleasure built rapidly, coiling tightly in my core, threatening to consume me whole if left unchecked.

"Not yet,"he ordered sternly, sensing my impending release."Not until I say so."

I bit my lip hard, struggling to rein in my orgasm as he continued to manipulate me. Fuck, why did it have to feel so damn good?

His breath came hot and heavy against my ear, teeth nipping sharply at the lobe as he whispered,"Come now, Lucas. Come all over yourself while I watch."

That was it—the final straw breaking the camel's back. With a cry torn straight from my soul, I obeyed, spilling ropes of cum onto the bed below us, body wracking uncontrollably through the force of my climax.

Marco didn't stop there, though. No, he kept going, drawing out my ecstasy until I was reduced to a quivering mess beneath him. Only then did he withdraw completely, leaving me empty and bereft.

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part came next, when he fisted his own cock, jacking himself furiously, aiming directly at my open, panting mouth.

"I'm gonna come in your mouth, Lucas,"he growled, voice strained with effort."Swallow every drop."

There was no time to protest or prepare myself properly. One moment he was stroking himself, the next, hot jets of semen were spurting across my tongue, filling my mouth with his taste once more.

It should've been disgusting, degrading even. But instead, it felt... intimate somehow. Like a secret shared between us alone, binding us together whether I wanted it or not.

When he finally finished, pulling away slowly, I swallowed reflexively, tasting him, accepting him into my very being. As if sensing my compliance, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before turning and walking away silently.

I collapsed face-first onto the mattress, boneless and spent, unable to move or think clearly. What just happened here? Did I really let an alpha claim me? And worse, did I enjoy it?

Yes was the answer to those questions.

As consciousness returned gradually, I found myself still sprawled on the rumpled sheets, sticky and sore in places I hadn't known existed. Memories of last night flooded back, vivid and intense, leaving me both embarrassed and aroused. I'd had sex with Marco. Not just any sex either - rough, dominant, claiming kind of sex. And god help me, I'd liked it. More than liked it, judging by the ache between my legs and the lingering taste of him on my tongue.

My first instinct was shame. How could I have been so reckless? So stupid? He was an alpha, and I was an omega in heat. Of course we ended up having sex. It was inevitable, predictable even. Yet, despite knowing better, I'd given in willingly, eagerly even. Because deep down, some part of me craved exactly what he offered: dominance, possession, control.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? I'd enjoyed surrendering to him too much. Enjoyed feeling small and weak compared to his strength. Enjoyed being used for his pleasure, giving in to every demand without hesitation. That wasn't me. At least, it shouldn't be. Right?

Wrong. Because despite all logic screaming otherwise, I already missed him. Missed his commanding presence, his strong arms holding me close, his confident touch exploring every inch of my body. Missed the way he took charge, making decisions for me, guiding me through the storm of sensations overwhelming my senses during my heat. Most importantly, I missed how safe he made me feel.

Consent was a funny thing. People often misunderstood its true meaning, assuming it meant saying yes out loud every single step along the way. But real consent went deeper than mere words; it was about understanding your boundaries, communicating openly, and trusting implicitly. In our case, neither of us spoke much, yet somehow, we managed to convey everything necessary. He respected my limits, responded to my silent cues, and ensured my comfort throughout. In return, I trusted him, accepted his lead, and followed where he guided me.

So yes, our encounter was consensual. But more than that, it was mutual. We both gave ourselves freely, taking and offering in equal measure. And now, I couldn't shake off this longing gnawing at me, yearning for more than just physical intimacy.

Because Marco wasn't simply an alpha who claimed me temporarily. He was the alpha who made me feel seen, understood, and desired. Who made me want things I never thought possible.