Raph was no longer his alpha. But the sight of him had Wyatt sagging into the door, relief washing through his bones.
His hand found the doorknob. He needed to step away, pretend he wasn’t home.
Somehow, his grip tightened. There was an empty spot in his bed, and in his heart.
Wyatt turned the doorknob. Opened the door a crack. Beyond, Raph was broad and tall, his eyes warm, his jaw dark with stubble. Wyatt stared at his strong shoulders, his full lips.
“My hand slipped,” he said. “The door opened itself.”
Raph’s gaze raked over him, hot, yearning. He pressed his fingertips to the door, nudged it open with the barest of pressure. Wyatt let him. Raph pushed at the door again, until the gap was wide enough that he could slip through.
Then he stepped in. Shut the door. Locked it. And they were completely alone, sealed in the privacy of Wyatt’s apartment.
Wyatt couldn’t breathe. He’d thought he’d lost Raph, breaking their bond in front of their family like that. And yet Raph was here, his gaze intent, heat radiating off his body. Wyatt’s mouth went dry.
“How’s the baby?” Raph asked, his eyes locking onto Wyatt.
Then he reached out, his fingertips skimming over Wyatt’s shirt. Except it was that extra-large Jaguar T-shirt Raph had left behind, that Wyatt hadn’t returned yet. He’d pulled it on, thinking he could keep his longing a secret. Raph’s fingers cupped his belly, stroked down his side.
“The baby’s fine,” Wyatt croaked. He needed to step forward, lean into Raph’s chest.
“What about you?”
“I’m—I’m fine.”
No, he wasn’t fine. He’d needed Raph for days. For weeks. He’d wanted to be held and told he was loved. Not wait by his phone, wishing his alpha was closer to home.
Raph’s hands slipped around Wyatt’s face. He leaned in, brushing their lips together. His breath soughed against Wyatt’s skin, and his tongue flicked over Wyatt’s lip. Gods, they hadn’t kissed properly in forever. Wyatt arched toward him, his body humming, his nerves strung too tight. “Raph—”
Raph slid into his mouth, seeking, cautious, and Wyatt opened for him with a groan. Raph tasted like bitter coffee, like sleep, but he was so familiar, that Wyatt sank against him, clutching at his hips, at his shirt, needing him closer.
Instead, Raph pressed him up against a wall, his hands stroking down Wyatt’s sides, cradling his belly. He was so damn careful, like he always was.
“We broke up,” Wyatt whispered. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Raph paused for a heartbeat, his teeth dragging along Wyatt’s lip. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
Then he kissed down Wyatt’s jaw, nipping at his earlobe. Wyatt trembled, his blood rushing south. He didn’t want Raph to stop. He’d thought he’d never have Raph this close again, and Raph... was touching him like he cared. Like he wanted Wyatt.
Raph smoothed his palm over Wyatt’s belly, and down between his legs. Wyatt gasped, his hips rocking forward, his blood surging down.
Raph knelt at his feet.
For a moment, Wyatt stared, his mouth falling open. They weren’t alpha and omega, not anymore. But Raph’s thighs were splayed by Wyatt’s ankles, his gaze dark as he looked up. He was vulnerable then, strong and beautiful and everything Wyatt had ever wanted.
And Wyatt had complete control over him.
“You aren’t my alpha,” Wyatt whispered, his heart aching. “Why—why are you doing this?”
Raph glanced at Wyatt’s belly, his fingers slipping under Wyatt’s shirt. Then he eased the fabric up, exposing the expanse of skin, the silvery tiger stripes of Wyatt’s stretch marks. Raph pressed soft kisses to them, his hands drifting to Wyatt’s waist, holding him.
“Let me touch you,” Raph murmured. “Just for now.”
A whine slipped out of Wyatt’s throat. They shouldn’t. Wyatt had told him the baby wasn’t his. And here Raph was, his stubble scraping over Wyatt’s skin, his breath heavy on Wyatt’s hip.
Wyatt’s throat grew tight. He loved Raph. And Raph nuzzled his belly, trailed kisses down the dark line of his abdomen, to the waistband of his shorts. He looked up, met Wyatt’s eyes past the bump of his belly. Then he pressed his face into the front of Wyatt’s shorts, breathing in deep.
Gods, this was beyond intimate. Wyatt groaned, rocking up at him, his covered cock dragging against Raph’s lips.
Raph pressed his mouth to the base of Wyatt’s cock and blew, a warm puff of air filtering through soft fabric, lighting Wyatt’s nerves. Then he eased Wyatt’s shorts down, freeing his cock. Wyatt squirmed.
Raph caught him by the hips, pressed him against the wall, and trailed kisses down the underside of Wyatt’s cock, his tongue flicking soft and damp against Wyatt’s skin.
Wyatt trusted him. He’d trust Raph with anything, period. Raph cupped Wyatt’s balls, rolled them between his fingers. Stroked the back of his balls, then underneath them, and took one ball into his mouth, his tongue silky against it. Wyatt’s limbs shook. He was so hard for Raph, and Raph was taking his time, catching Wyatt’s other ball, sucking it into his mouth.
He groaned, winding his fingers into Raph’s hair, his cock leaking. He couldn’t see past his belly, but maybe he was leaking onto Raph’s face, with the way Raph made him squirm, his fingers rubbing slow, firm circles into Wyatt’s ass.
The shorts pooled at his ankles with a rustle. Raph’s soft lips dragged up Wyatt’s cock, and he caught Wyatt’s foreskin, dragged it down to expose his tip. Raph blew over his sensitive skin, trailed the points of his teeth over it, sending a jolt of pleasure up Wyatt’s spine.
Wyatt jerked and hissed, and Raph took him into his hot, wet mouth, sucking him deep.
He shuddered. Pressure built between his legs, his cock throbbing against Raph’s tongue.
“Raph,” he gasped. And Raph swallowed him down, his throat tight, his face hidden. Wyatt was almost afraid to find out how he looked. Whether he was hurt. Because Wyatt had hurt him—Raph had a debt, and Wyatt had cut their ties, instead
