“I like looking at you,” Dale mumbled.
“That was an old email.” Greg smirked, nudging Dale’s further knees apart. “June said you do things with those emails. Were you really that obvious about them?”
A surge of heat washed through Dale’s face. Two months ago, June had caught him in his office, rubbing himself through his pants. She never let him forget that. “I didn’t even have my cock out,” Dale mumbled. “She only smelled the musk.”
Greg’s eyes gleamed. He knelt between Dale’s legs, rubbing his hands over Dale’s thighs, the heat of his palms soaking through thin fabric. “Remember what you were thinking about?”
Dale gulped, pushing his hips forward, trying to tempt Greg into touching higher. “You’re always in your jersey in the newsletters. Take a guess.”
“Too many possibilities.” Greg pressed a kiss to Dale’s inner thigh, then another, trailing his lips up to his hip. Then he kissed the spot just next to Dale’s cock, blowing through cloth. Humid air flooded around Dale’s skin, hot like Greg’s mouth. “Tell me.”
Dale’s throat went dry. He wanted to push past Greg’s lips, wanted Greg to strip him and suck him. Greg dragged his mouth lightly over the tip of Dale’s cock, his lip catching on the cloth of his pants. Dale groaned. “Oh gods, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you. I wanted you all sweaty, pinning me. I wanted you keeping me open with your knees. I wanted you just watching me come.”
A smirk crept over Greg’s lips. “How many times did you come, thinking about me?”
Dale’s cheeks scorched. He’d looked at Greg’s photos with his hand down his pants, knowing no other professor did that. He was terrible. And he had come so hard every time, spread open on his bed, pretending Greg was behind him, holding him down, pounding into his ass. “I—I don’t remember. Maybe twenty. Forty. Fifty.”
Greg’s smirk widened. He slipped his fingers into Dale’s belt, tugging it open, the length of it pressing around Dale’s waist. A reminder that Greg could touch any part of him, and it would feel exquisite. “And you wanted my knot?”
“Fuck, yes.” Dale held his breath when the belt loosened. Greg undid Dale’s too-tight pants, sliding the zipper down against his cock. His bulge pushed out past the V of his fly, and Greg eyed it, rubbing his thumb down the underside of Dale’s cock, his touch muffled through the cotton. “I wanted you breeding me. Every time.”
A growl rumbled through Greg’s chest. Musk slipped through the air between them, and Greg leaned in, licking over the damp spot on Dale’s briefs, tasting him. “Wet for me?”
“Yes.” Dale groaned, pushing his hips up. Greg held him down against the chair, took Dale’s tip into his mouth, underwear and all. He ground his tongue against the sensitive spot on Dale’s head, sending pleasure through Dale’s body. Dale panted, his fingers digging into the leather of his chair. “Greg, please.”
Greg ran his lips over the crown of Dale’s head, licking it. The wetter it became, the more keenly Dale felt his touch, until the fabric of his briefs was soaked around his tip, stretched thin, his ruddy skin visible through its weave.
“You’re so goddamn hard,” Greg murmured, kissing down Dale’s cock, then back up, his tongue catching on damp cotton. Then he took Dale’s cock into his mouth, sucking it, and Dale felt the pressure all the way in his balls. He arched, rocking up. Greg paused, leaving Dale’s tip between his lips. “You said you had condoms in your office. What were you using those for?”
Dale blushed. This had been a secret; even June didn’t know about them. “Plugs. I have a couple here.”
Greg’s gaze sharpened. He glanced at the desk drawers. “You’ve mentioned that once. Back when you were in heat.”
“I might’ve used them. Thinking about you.” He’d fucked himself with them, too, late at night, pretending they were Greg’s knot inside him. Pretending Greg was filling him with cum over and over.
And a slow smile spread across Greg’s lips. “Where are they?”
“Bottom drawer. Inside the box.”
He held his breath, waiting as Greg leaned away, sliding the drawer open. Behind stacks of notebooks was a cardboard box, completely white. Discreet. Greg pulled it out, picking it open. Then he smiled, examining first the smaller red plug, then the larger glass one, that Dale now knew was a little narrower than Greg’s knot. He hadn’t needed the plugs in a while.
Greg met his eyes, setting the glass plug on Dale’s desk. He closed the box, returned it to the drawer, and leaned in. “You’ll wear that through dinner.”
“What?” Dale squeaked. On his desk, the glass plug was teardrop-shaped, with a flared base on its wide end. He thought about it inside him, spreading him open, and quailed.
“Whatever happens during the dinner, you’ll remember that it’s my knot in you,” Greg said, his eyes gleaming. “If I pretend to like Penny, or if you even think about getting jealous... give it a squeeze. Remember who put it there. When dinner’s over tonight, you’ll take my knot.”
Dale thought about Greg bending him over, sliding into him, swelling inside him, and his cock ached. “You’re not giving me your knot now?”
“Later,” Greg said, rubbing his knuckles over Dale’s cock, a dark promise in his eyes.
Dale whined, squirming. He wanted his alpha inside him. Wanted Greg filling him with seed. Wanted Greg stretching his body open, pleasuring him, until all he knew was his alpha and nothing else.
Greg pressed a light kiss to Dale’s cock, then curled his fingers into Dale’s pants and briefs. “Up.”
Dale kicked his shoes off, lifted his hips, then his legs, so Greg could slide his clothes off. His pants and briefs landed on the floor with a rustle. Dale fitted
