“Fuck, Ollie,” Eric gasped, rocking his hips against Olivier, so hints of pleasure jolted through his body. “Think—think I’m in a rut.”
3
Olivier
Eric was touching him. Olivier held still, barely able to believe it. After years of thinking about Eric, after all his hopeless daydreams...
Olivier’s stepbrother was here. And he was cradling Olivier gently in his arms, his breath hot on Olivier’s jaw, his cock a thick line behind his jeans.
Maybe this was a fever dream. But Ollie had been hungry too long to question anything good like this, especially when Eric was in a rut. Just the mere thought of Eric’s cock, the possibility that Olivier could touch it, could have it inside him... It was big. It would feel delicious.
Musk billowed off Olivier’s skin, giving all his secrets away.
Eric growled, his hands tightening around Olivier’s hips. Then he rocked his cock against Olivier’s ass, and Olivier trembled, his throat dry.
He wanted more. Wanted Eric stripping him, wanted Eric pinning him open, touching his bare, sensitive skin. He wanted to know what it would feel like, Eric’s hand on his cock, Eric seeing his most intimate parts.
Olivier’s face burned. He shouldn’t. Eric was his brother.
“I’ve never been in a rut,” Eric muttered, his breath puffing into Olivier’s hair.
That surprised Olivier.
“How?” he breathed, his heart pounding too fast. “I thought—I thought you were married.”
“Never with Alice.” Eric pressed his face against Olivier’s shoulder, reaching around him. With quick, decisive tugs, Eric pulled Olivier’s belt open. “It was never the same.”
Really? Olivier wanted to know more, but he also didn’t. Didn’t want to think about Eric’s omega now. He just wanted Eric to himself, wanted to forget all the bitterness between them.
“Please,” Olivier whispered.
“Please what?” Eric unbuttoned the top of Olivier’s pants. Pulled open his fly, relieving some of the pressure there. Olivier’s cock strained up, trapped in his briefs. “Tell me, Ollie.”
Olivier closed his eyes, the nickname making his chest squeeze tight. He hadn’t thought he’d hear that from Eric’s lips again. “I don’t know,” Olivier whimpered. “I want everything.”
“Fuck,” Eric groaned. Then he released Olivier and turned him around, so their eyes met.
Olivier froze. He’d have preferred not to look at Eric. So he wouldn’t see any of Eric’s revulsion, or hate.
But Eric didn’t seem repulsed by him. In the bright fluorescent light of the shop’s backroom, Eric’s eyes were a clear reddish-brown, his lips full, his expression hungry. He wasn’t put off by Olivier, and he wasn’t angry, either.
“Shouldn’t you be angry with me?” Olivier croaked. Then he regretted it, in case Eric came to his senses and left.
Instead, Eric caught his chin, leaned in, and slanted his lips over Olivier’s, kissing him hot and hard.
Olivier’s blood swooped south. Eric was kissing him. Eric was kissing him, and he was inside Olivier’s mouth, tasting him, claiming him.
Eric tasted like coffee, and he smelled like musk and cedar. He backed Olivier against the desk, running his large, hot palms down Olivier’s sides, his teeth sharp points on Olivier’s lower lip.
“Nah,” Eric breathed, sucking Olivier’s lip into his damp mouth, tugging Olivier’s shirt higher. He swept his hands up Olivier’s front, then pushed his tongue into Olivier’s mouth, and Olivier could already imagine Eric fucking him lower down, with his tongue, his fingers, his cock.
His hole squeezed; slick drenched his underwear, and he felt too tense, felt like he needed to do something to respond, but he was too afraid of chasing Eric away.
“Good?” Eric murmured into Olivier’s mouth, sliding inside again, dragging his tongue against Olivier’s teeth, then deeper.
Olivier shivered. “You’re my brother.”
Eric rumbled. “Stepbrother. But tonight, I’m your alpha. Gonna give you my knot.”
Just the thought of that—Eric buried inside him, Eric’s knot stretching him open... Eric as his alpha...
Olivier’s hunger intensified. His pulse thumped between his legs, and his cock strained against his briefs. He needed to present for Eric, needed to show Eric how much Olivier wanted him.
“All the other doors are locked?” Eric murmured, pulling away to look into Olivier’s eyes.
Olivier nodded, his tongue too thick in his mouth.
“Good.”
Eric stepped even closer, until his solid chest pressed against Olivier, until their shoes bumped and their faces were inches apart, and he slipped his fingers through Olivier’s hair.
Then he tipped Olivier’s face up, so Olivier was craning his head back, utterly exposed.
When Eric kissed him this time, he nudged Olivier’s mouth open. Slipped inside, tangling their tongues. Olivier moaned into his mouth. Eric pressed him against the desk, reached behind, and cupped Olivier’s ass. Hefted him onto tiptoes, holding him against Eric’s cock.
“Touch me,” Eric commanded.
Olivier whimpered, daring to touch his fingertips to Eric’s waist, his leather belt, the denim loops of his jeans. Then he reached higher, to Eric’s strong back, and around to his front, where his abs were hard and his pecs stretched his shirt. Eric was so handsome, and strong, and Olivier wanted to see more of him. Wanted Eric bare, so he could feast his eyes.
“I want,” Olivier gasped.
“Want what?” Eric’s gaze burned into him.
“Want you.” Olivier gulped. “On top of me.”
Eric’s breath rushed out of him. His pupils blew wide, and he panted, catching Olivier’s wrist. Then he dragged Olivier’s hand back down his chest, his abs, to the apex of his legs. Olivier stopped breathing.
Eric pushed Ollie’s hand down the length of his cock, thick and straining behind his jeans. “All this is yours,” Eric whispered. “How do you want it?”
“Inside,” Olivier blurted, ashamed of his desire.
But Eric smiled, a slow, hungry tilt of his lips. “Burying deep? Until you scream?”
Gods, Olivier wanted him inside right this moment. His heat ached in his bones, and he squirmed, shoving his pants and briefs down, so desperate he could hardly think.
“Fuck, Ollie. Fuck.”
Eric caught his hands, pinning them to the desk. His gaze coasted down Olivier’s chest, to Olivier’s cock trapped
