Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” Royce said, his glazed eyes fixed on Haydn’s lips stretched around his cock. He looked as weirded out as Haydn felt, but his cock was rock-hard inside Haydn’s mouth. He tasted so good. Haydn now understood what omegas he’d slept with had meant when they said they got a little high on the taste of his cock. If his cock tasted half as good as Royce’s, it was no fucking wonder.
“Just the tip,” Royce muttered again, sounding completely out of it, his dark eyes glassy with primitive lust as he pushed his cock deeper.
Haydn thought it was already more than just the tip, but he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything, his head spinning, his senses full of Royce’s scent, his mouth full of his cock. His eyes slipped shut, a low whine building in his chest.
Royce’s other hand—the one not feeding him his cock—wrapped around Haydn’s throat, applying slight pressure. “Just the tip,” he mumbled deliriously. “Suck it, suck on it.”
Haydn did as he was told, his mouth tightening around the cockhead. Royce swore elaborately, his body going rigid as he came in his mouth. It felt like he was coming forever, spurt after spurt of hot salty liquid hitting the back of Haydn’s throat. Haydn choked, swallowing half of the come, half of it ending up on his face.
Royce made a pleased sound, rubbing his come into Haydn’s cheeks and neck.
“Stop, this is gross,” Haydn tried to say, but all that came out was an unintelligible mumbling. He felt… He felt so good, the taste of Royce’s come doing something weird to him. He felt mellow. Almost high.
Shit, it wasn’t normal. Only omegas were supposed to experience this blissed-out state from consuming an alpha’s ejaculate: they were biologically wired to. Alphas had no business feeling this way from swallowing another alpha’s come.
But he did. He felt weirdly satisfied, a peculiar warmth filling his body.
“…Haydn?”
Royce’s voice seemed to be coming from somewhere far away.
“Haydn?”
Haydn forced his eyes open and blinked at the ceiling. Why was he lying down? He couldn’t remember lying down.
“Haydn.” Royce’s voice sounded more urgent now. “Are you all right?”
Haydn hauled himself to a sitting position and focused his gaze on Royce.
“Huh,” he said, taking a sniff. “Is your rut over?”
Royce nodded, looking at him strangely. “You okay?”
Haydn nodded. He felt okay. In fact, he felt ridiculously good.
Because you just let your husband put his cock in your mouth and come into it. Your alpha husband. And now you’re high as a kite.
Haydn felt his cheeks become warm.
He cleared his throat, and said, “I’m fine.” He got to his feet, looking anywhere but at Royce, feeling terribly self-conscious.
“Are we good?” Royce said, his voice a little stiff.
“Of course,” Haydn said with a small laugh. “I think… I just need a shower. Another one.” He strode toward the bathroom and shut the door behind himself. After a moment, he locked it too.
Leaning back against the door, Haydn breathed out, his knees unsteady.
His skin felt gross and sticky.
He stank of another alpha.
He could still taste another alpha’s come in his mouth.
Haydn shuddered, not even sure what he was feeling: revulsion or delight.
Maybe both.
Chapter Twelve
When Haydn finally felt more like himself, he got dressed and went downstairs. Although he wasn’t sure how to behave around Royce, he couldn’t stay in the room that still smelled overwhelmingly of the other alpha’s rut. It made his skin prickle with that weird anxiety-anticipation-revulsion-longing.
The hour was still pretty early, and he figured everyone must have been in the breakfast room, but he found it empty.
“They’re in the living room, Master Haydn,” a maid told him, smiling. “Master Aksel has just come home!”
Okay, that made sense. Royce had been expecting his younger brother to come home for a while now. Vagrippa must have been ecstatic.
“Thanks, Martha,” Haydn said and headed toward the living room.
He heard the voices before he reached it. He paused in the doorway, unprepared for the emotional scene that greeted him.
Vagrippa was weeping, her thin arms wrapped around an unfamiliar man in the red Kadarian military uniform with two gold bands that denoted his rank of captain. The man was ridiculously handsome. He looked a lot like Royce, just slightly taller, broader, and hairier. His scent was… strong. Very strong.
Haydn wrinkled his nose, his own scent spiking in response to the presence of an unfamiliar Xeus alpha.
The man—Aksel—turned his head, probably smelling him, too, and Haydn noticed another difference between him and Royce: his eyes were blue, not black.
Aksel’s eyebrows went up. “Although you told me about it, Mother, I have to say it’s still strange to see the Death Bringer in our home.”
Haydn stiffened at the nickname. He’d always fucking hated it. Just because he was good at it, it didn’t mean he’d taken pleasure in killing.
Before he could say anything, Royce stepped between Haydn and his brother. “Don’t call him that.”