Greg tangled his tongue with Dale’s, sliding out of his mouth, thrusting in again, pressing into Dale’s space like he was his bondmate, and Dale’s instincts said, Obey.
He ground up against Greg, chasing the damp warmth of Greg’s tongue. Greg tasted like blueberry—it came from the sports drinks he brought with him to classes. He was Dale’s student, and Dale was honor-bound not to sleep with him.
Guilt slithered through his gut.
Despite the heat throbbing through his body. Dale flattened his hands on Greg’s chest, shoving him off. “You can’t,” he rasped. “I’m your teacher.”
Greg licked his lips, his eyes glinting. “You want my cock.”
Dale’s cheeks burned. “I can’t answer that.”
“But you know what you want.”
Yes, Dale did.
Greg smirked. Then he caught Dale’s wrist, pressing Dale’s hand to the hard line of his jeans. Behind the denim, Greg’s cock was thick, solid, a ravenous length Dale wanted inside him. Heat shot down his spine, and a moan tore from his throat.
“I’m this hard for you,” Greg whispered, rolling his hips, his cock straining against Dale’s palm. “Want to slide this inside you.”
Dale’s breath punched out of his chest. For long seconds, he could only think about Greg’s cock rubbing against his hole, fucking in. He needed to see it. Feel it against his skin, all hot and smooth and slippery.
“Gods,” Dale groaned, squirming.
Greg leaned in, licking along the shell of his ear. “I want you as my omega,” he whispered, releasing Dale’s hand, curving his own palm around Dale’s side. “Want you to be mine.”
Dale shivered, hardly daring to move. He wanted it all. Wanted to belong. Wanted to be Greg’s.
Then Greg trailed his hand down Dale’s cock, stroking it lightly with his fingers, following the taut fabric of his pants.
“You’re so damn hard,” Greg murmured.
His fingers whispered all the way to Dale’s tip, squeezed him there, and pleasure jolted up Dale’s nerves. Dale gasped, his hips bucking up, his face burning like he’d been set ablaze. He wanted his student’s touch, wanted Greg kissing down his belly. This was wrong.
All Greg had to do was ask, and Dale would spread for him.
Greg stepped closer, his foot easing between Dale’s shoes, his knee nudging Dale’s thighs apart. Dale whimpered, leaning back into his desk. Then he parted his legs, and a low growl rumbled in Greg’s chest. He stepped between Dale’s feet, his hard thighs pressing against Dale’s, keeping them open.
Dale could no longer hide how much he wanted this alpha. After two months of yearning for him, allowing Greg to know felt like a weight had slipped off his shoulders.
“Greg,” Dale whispered, lifting his hips, inviting touch.
And Greg growled, planting his hands on the desk, on either side of Dale, caging him in. Then he caught Dale’s earlobe between his teeth, dragging his tongue along Dale’s skin. “Say my name again.”
“Greg.” Dale ducked his head, embarrassed.
Greg bared his teeth, sliding them off Dale’s earlobe, pressing damp kisses down Dale’s neck, licking at his pulse point, all the way to his scent gland. Then he nipped at the sensitive skin there, his breath puffing heavy on it. Dale shivered, knowing Greg could bite him now, and mark him for life. His cock jerked in his pants.
“Not gonna bite,” Greg murmured. Then he dragged his hot, wet tongue over Dale’s scent gland, an intimate touch, and Dale shuddered against him, gasping, his fingers curling into Greg’s shirt. His body hummed with pleasure.
“You’re just teasing me,” Dale hissed, grabbing Greg’s hand. Then he pushed it down against his cock, rocking up at him, and Greg chuckled darkly, squeezing Dale, tracing him from base to tip. Dale gasped. Greg was touching him. It shouldn’t feel so sinfully good.
“What do you want me to do?” Greg whispered, sliding his fingers down, stroking Dale’s balls through his clothes. His touch was firm, careful, like he knew exactly what he was doing. How exactly he was affecting Dale.
Dale bucked into his hand, his thighs trembling. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Greg kissed up his neck, nipped along his jaw, and met his lips. And Dale moaned into his mouth, sliding against Greg’s tongue, tasting him again. Greg’s touch promised sex, promised pleasure. And Dale was so wet he had probably soaked through his pants.
He sucked on Greg’s lip, then his tongue. Greg groaned, sliding his hands under Dale, lifting him off the desk, hefting Dale against his own hips. Then he stroked his fingers down Dale’s spine, all the way to his ass. Firm fingers dipped between Dale’s cheeks. They pushed the soaked fabric of his pants up against his hole, cloth rubbing over his sensitive skin.
Dale panted, pushing back against Greg’s fingers. He was beyond ready.
“You’re so damn wet,” Greg murmured, groaning. “Wet for me.”
Dale couldn’t deny it, not when his body ached, needing to be shoved down, held open, pierced with a thick, hard cock. “I—I...”
Greg crooked his fingers, and the cotton of Dale’s briefs caught against his entrance. Greg pressed harder, and Dale’s hole parted slightly, taking him in. Greg’s breath rushed over his cheek, his finger dipping a little further in, his covered cock pressed snug against Dale’s.
Dale wanted him all the way inside.
“Want you,” Greg murmured, “Professor.”
Dale flushed. He didn’t need that reminder right now, when all he wanted was to be pinned beneath Greg. “Stop calling me Professor,” he breathed. “My name’s Dale.”
“Dale,” Greg whispered against Dale’s lips, working his fingertip in, slick fabric dragging against the rim of Dale’s entrance.
Dale writhed, his cock throbbing. Greg was inside him.
In that heartbeat, he forgot who he was, who Greg was. He only knew he was omega, and Greg was alpha, and Greg was prepping Dale for his knot. And Dale’s nerves were wound so tight it would take a hard fucking to relax them.
Greg shoved their hips together, heaving Dale against him. Then he rutted up, his bulge sliding hard against Dale’s. Dale’s voice broke.
