Ulric swore and pinned Gage down, and his thrusts turned desperate, his cock sliding against Gage’s hole, back and forth, back and forth.
Like how he’d fuck Gage, given the chance.
“You don’t own me,” Gage growled.
“Fuck yes, I do,” Ulric hissed. And he thrust, Gage’s boxers so thin that it may as well not be there at all, because he felt the heat and hardness of Ulric’s cock, he felt its hunger and need, he felt the tap-tap-tap of Ulric’s balls against his taint.
Gage ached. It was only when he reached down to rub the pain away, that he realized he was so hard he could burst.
Because an alpha was rubbing up against his ass, because Ulric was so close to ripping through Gage’s boxers, and fucking inside him.
With each stroke, Ulric shoved Gage’s cock against the floorboards. Pleasure twisted up his spine.
Gage didn’t want to jerk himself off. It didn’t seem right. But Ulric held him down and rutted against his ass, his breathing going ragged, his precome soaking through Gage’s boxers, smearing wet against his skin.
“Mine,” Ulric hissed. His breathing stuttered. He pushed his tip hard against Gage’s hole, demanding to be let inside. Gage almost yielded. He almost asked Ulric to stretch him out.
He almost wished... that Ulric would rip through that fabric.
Ulric swore, his fingers grasping Gage bruisingly-tight. Then he fucked a final time against Gage, and wetness spurted through Gage’s boxers onto his hole, at the same time Ulric roared, grinding the entire length of his cock against Gage, smearing his come all over Gage’s ass, as though he was trying to push his come inside.
Something broke within Gage. He didn’t know if it was because of Ulric’s pleasure, or his need, or the unexpected mind-blowing hotness of Ulric’s come between his asscheeks. Ulric fucked against him, and pleasure ripped through Gage’s body, all the way down to his cock, electricity jolting up his spine.
Gage came and came, waves of bliss rolling down his nerves. He could only ride it, his entire body tense, until the crescendo faded and he could breathe again.
Ulric leaned away, the sudden loss of his heat a shock against Gage’s skin. Gage turned, searching him out. “Where’d you go?” he mumbled. He couldn’t get up from the floor.
Ulric flushed. “Cleaning up.”
He was shoving his cock back into his pants, his knot already starting to swell. Gage eyed the redness of it—he’d been right about how it looked. And it looked good.
Before Ulric, Gage had never thought that about an alpha’s cock before. He wasn’t sure what this turn of events meant.
“I’ll get you a washcloth.” Ulric wobbled to the kitchen. He returned with a folded-up dishtowel, handing it to Gage.
The towel was warm. It was exceedingly comfortable, actually. Gage pulled down the back of his boxers; Ulric flushed, yanking his gaze away.
“Nothing you haven’t seen,” Gage said.
He scrubbed off the come from between his cheeks, trying not to remember how hot that had been. He probably needed a shower. Then he pushed himself upright, and winced at the white streaks on the floorboards. Funny how that had worked. His boxers did a poor job of keeping come from going anywhere.
Ulric froze. “Wait.”
Gage wiped off the come, but he couldn’t hide the length straining behind his own clothes. “I couldn’t tell you how that happened,” Gage admitted. “I’ve never slept with an alpha in my entire life.”
“Oh.” Ulric’s face turned pink. Still adorable.
When had Gage started thinking he was adorable, anyway?
“I’ll grab a shower,” Gage said. “I stink.”
“Same here.” Ulric looked away, and Gage pulled up his pants, climbing the stairs awkwardly so he could get to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, Gage returned to the kitchen. The house was starting to smell like delicious cooking meat. Ulric was nowhere to be found.
Gage prepped the sauce from his mom’s recipe, just waiting for him. He gave Ulric another half-hour. When Ulric still didn’t show up, Gage went back upstairs, knocking on the master bedroom door. “Ulric?”
“Yeah?” Ulric sounded hesitant. He’d retreated back into his shell again.
“Can I come in?”
A pause. “Sure, I guess.”
Ulric’s bedroom was lit by a large window above his headboard. It smelled like a mix of honey oak and old musk, and bookshelves lined one wall. A fancy laptop stand perched over his bed, surrounded by clothes strewn haphazardly across the sheets.
Ulric saw Gage looking and tensed, snatching the clothes off. But not before Gage recognized one of his shirts in that pile. It was a robot movie T-shirt his sister had given him one Christmas. “Hey. Do we have the exact same shirt, or is that mine?”
Ulric flushed a bright red. “It’s, um. I found it when I was doing my laundry.”
He was lying. Gage had thought it odd that he’d smelled honey oak in his room the other day. Come to think of it, he didn’t remember putting that shirt in the wash. “You took it from my laundry hamper?”
“I-I was just curious.” Ulric shoved the shirt at Gage. “I was going to return it to you.”
He looked so embarrassed that Gage’s heart melted. “Naw, it’s fine. You can borrow it.”
“No, here.” Ulric folded the shirt and handed it over.
Gage took it, studying the closed-off look on Ulric’s face. Was Ulric planning to steal another shirt from Gage’s dirty laundry, just to replace this one?
He pressed it to his nose, drawing a deep breath. And he found an odd mix of smells on it—his own pine, Ulric’s honey oak, and a trace of old sweat. And musk.
It smelled good, if Gage was being honest.
There was a splotch of something crusty on one corner of the shirt. Gage picked at it, puzzled. He didn’t remember leaving a stain.
“Shit, shit. No,” Ulric blurted, his face turning the brightest red Gage had seen on him so far. He snatched the shirt out of Gage’s hands. “Lemme wash that before you wear it again.”
Gage studied him, tickled by this alpha who got so much more embarrassed than any omega
