Greg slid his wrist heavily down Dale’s cock, dragging his scent gland over it. Dale shuddered, gasping for breath. He was Greg’s. His cock was Greg’s, and it shouldn’t make him throb. Instead, his hips bucked up, inviting Greg’s touch. Inviting Greg to mark the rest of him.
Gods, he was such a whore. Cheeks scorching, Dale said, “I really sh-shouldn’t. You’re my—my—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Greg muttered, his eyes flashing. Then he straddling Dale’s hips, leaned in, and kissed him hard, pushing his cock against Dale’s. Dale arched.
Like last week, Greg’s cock was thick in his pants, heavy, and it was a delicious weight promising to fill him.
Greg slid his tongue into Dale’s mouth, his hips rocking hard against Dale’s, shoving him into the mattress. Dale moaned, pleasure thrumming through his body, so wet he dripped.
“Next time you think of saying ‘You’re my student,’” Greg murmured, “say ‘You’re my alpha.’”
Dale’s breath rushed out of him. Those words held too much weight. But to acknowledge Greg as his, to belong to Greg... Pleasure jolted through his cock.
“Greg, please—” Dale gasped, writhing. “I—”
“Say it.”
“You’re my a-alpha,” Dale moaned, his cock jerking in his pants. It sounded right. It felt right. Especially when Greg held him down like this, letting Dale feel how hard he was for him. “Gods, Greg. Please. I need you inside.”
“Not yet,” Greg growled. He leaned up, taking away some of the pressure on Dale’s hips. Then he loosened Dale’s belt, yanked it from his belt loops, and tossed it off the bed. It landed on the floorboards with a clatter. Greg tugged Dale’s fly open, curled his fingers into Dale’s pants and briefs, and pulled them out from under his hips.
Dale lifted his legs. Greg slid his clothes along his thighs, over his calves, off his feet. The pants and briefs hit the floor with a rustle. Dale parted his legs, and Greg’s gaze burned down Dale’s chest, to his flushed, straining cock.
Unlike last week, when Dale had been desperate and in heat, the tension between them built like the rising tide, steady and unyielding.
“I’m not like I was,” Dale mumbled, covering his belly with his hand, his cock leaking onto his fingers. He’d put on a bit of weight over the years, and he wasn’t as svelte as a younger omega could be. “I—”
“You’re fine,” Greg said, tugging Dale’s hand away. Then he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Dale’s abdomen. “You look fine. Good. Like someone I wanna fuck through the night.”
Dale’s cheeks burned. “I might fall asleep after the first round,” he said. “I can’t—”
“Gods, stop putting yourself down.” Greg leaned over him, planting one hand by Dale’s cheek. He stared into Dale’s eyes, his gaze hot and serious. “One round is fine, too. I don’t care. I’m not here because you’re my professor, and I’m not here expecting someone my age. I don’t care about that.”
Dale’s chest squeezed. “That’s—that’s very kind of you.”
Greg slid his fingers down to Dale’s chest, rubbing over Dale’s nipples. Pleasure stung through his nerves, and he gasped. And Greg reached down, caught the tip of Dale’s cock, the barest touch sliding his foreskin down. Dale moaned, thrusting up, needing more. Greg circled his rough fingers loosely around his cock, looking down as Dale fucked into his hand. Then, as though Dale’s pleas meant nothing, he brought his hand further down, stroking between Dale’s cheeks, the barest brush of his finger.
“Greg,” Dale moaned, spreading his legs, pushing up at him. “Don’t tease.”
And Greg met his eyes, pulling his fingers away. “You see that?”
“See what?”
“The way you want me,” Greg murmured, lowering his lips to Dale’s. “You’re not old or bad. Especially not when you beg me to fuck you.”
Dale swallowed. “Oh.”
Greg dragged his finger between Dale’s cheeks, an intimate touch that kept just shy of his hole. “Now spread for me.”
Dale groaned, reaching down to clasp his cheeks. Then he pulled them apart, exposing his damp hole, and Greg’s nostrils flared.
“Very nice,” Greg rumbled. He circled Dale’s hole once with his fingertip, then sat back, catching Dale’s ankle. Dale watched as Greg pressed soft kisses down his calf, his knee, his stubble scraping along Dale’s sensitive inner thigh. Dale trembled, keeping himself spread, waiting for Greg to reach his cock.
But Greg nuzzled Dale’s balls, dragging his tongue over them, his lips sliding damply against Dale’s groin. Dale’s cock jerked, needing touch.
“Greg,” he moaned.
And Greg finally dragged his tongue up Dale’s cock, a hot, wet touch, from his base to his tip, lapping at where his head had pushed out of his foreskin. Dale groaned, leaking onto his tongue, trying to rock into his mouth.
Greg kissed his tip, licking it, a thread of precum stretching between them when he pulled away. He caught Dale’s knees, pushing them down against the bed, holding Dale exposed. Dale’s face burned. Greg fucking him was one thing, but Greg looking closely at Dale’s slick hole, at his tight balls? Greg’s lips curled in a smile. “You’re so damn wet for me.”
“Yes,” Dale hissed.
“Hold your position,” Greg said, releasing him. Dale hooked his hands behind his knees, his pulse racing when Greg unbuttoned his shirt.
He’d never seen Greg shirtless in person, only in pictures on the basketball newsletters. He was so young, and Dale couldn’t stop staring at the expanse of his pecs, the flat discs of his nipples, the grooves of his abs. He admired the V of Greg’s hips, and Greg pulled his belt off, stepped out of his jeans. His thighs were strong, his calves muscled, their skin red with flame-streak scars.
He smelled like musk, like alpha, and when he slipped his boxers off, Dale’s throat went dry.
At the apex of his thighs, jutting up from his hair, Greg’s cock was thick, flushed, damp at the tip. It had been
