Chapter 26 Moans And Muffled Warnings
Ezra woke to warmth. Wet, slow warmth dragging along his skin, tugging him up from sleep like a dream he didn’t want to wake from.
His brows drew together as his body responded before his mind did. His hips gave a small, involuntary push upward into the slick heat wrapped around him.
A breath escaped him—hoarse, low, almost pained. His chest heaved, the sheets suddenly too hot, the scent in the air too thick.
Lavender. But not just lavender. There was something deeper tonight—sweeter, heavier. A trace of honeyed musk beneath the bloom. Pheromones. Omega pheromones.
Ezra blinked into the dark, heart stammering in his chest, pupils dilating as instinct took hold of rational thought.
Then he felt it—Sebastian. The unmistakable slide of tongue, the press of a soft mouth, the subtle trembling in his thighs as he worked Ezra slowly.
And the scent—that dangerous, heady blend of Omega sweetness and heat. It coated Ezra’s tongue. Flooded his lungs. A lure. A trap. A balm.
“Fuck,” Ezra muttered, voice thick with sleep and surprise. His hand found curls—Sebastian’s curls—and his fingers slid into them, gentle but needy, the pads of his fingers curling instinctively at the base of his skull. “Seb…”
Sebastian hummed around him, the vibration so subtle it made Ezra groan and press his head back into the pillow. That sound—it made the pheromones bloom stronger. Richer. Ezra’s hands twitched. His teeth ground together.
He looked down—barely able to make out Sebastian’s silhouette in the soft moonlight slipping through the blinds. But he didn’t need to see.
He felt everything.
The way Sebastian’s hands held his thighs open, how deliberate his mouth was, how goddamn patient he could be when he wanted Ezra to fall apart.
Ezra’s chest heaved. His hand tightened in Sebastian’s hair, nails lightly scraping the scalp. “You trying to kill me, Omega?”
Sebastian released him with a quiet pop, then pressed his mouth to the inside of Ezra’s thigh, kissing once, again, like a tease. The kisses left behind ghost trails of scent—warm, sweet, designed to entice. “Trying to soften you up.”
Ezra huffed a breath that was half laugh, half disbelief, jaw tight. His nostrils flared as Sebastian’s scent clung to him, soaked into the skin of his inner thighs. “For what?”
Sebastian crawled up, straddling Ezra’s hips now, his skin warm and flushed and impossibly soft in the shadows. Ezra’s hands rose to his waist—small, trembling under his grip, the smell of need rising off him in thick, honey-slick waves.
Omega slick.
Ezra could smell it, could feel it in the tremor of Sebastian’s muscles, the faint shine at the base of his spine.
Sebastian bent low, brushed his lips over Ezra’s throat, his collarbone, and whispered, “You’re getting Mia a new phone.”
Ezra let out a breathless scoff. “That’s why you woke me up with your mouth?”
Sebastian licked a stripe up the side of his neck. Ezra’s breath hitched as Sebastian exhaled hot air against his pulse point, the scent flooding up again. “Not just that. But it helps.”
Ezra’s grip on his waist tightened, thumbs brushing under the soft give of Sebastian’s belly. His breathing came rough, uneven.
He didn’t know when he’d started panting for him.
His eyes searched Sebastian’s in the dark—and there it was. That glint. Mischief. But beneath it… something hungrier. Instinctive.
Ezra’s jaw clenched. His head tilted instinctively, exposing his throat without meaning to. His body ached to bite. To mark. He lifted his hips, just a little, his breath catching as Sebastian adjusted—grinding down against him with a sigh.
Sebastian sat up slowly, guiding Ezra’s cock to where he wanted it, steady and unhurried. The pheromones spiked again, drowning Ezra’s senses. He saw stars. Felt his body shiver, core tight with restrained dominance. His gums ached.
“Fuck, Seb,” Ezra groaned. His hands gripped harder at his hips now, holding him still as Sebastian sank down, inch by inch. Tight, hot, perfect. Slick with natural heat that made Ezra’s whole body thrum.
Sebastian's breath hitched. “You’ll say yes?”
Ezra opened his eyes, dazed and aching. The scent of want poured off Sebastian in waves. Ezra’s head tilted again, wolf-like, and his mouth nearly met the junction of Sebastian’s neck—his Alpha instincts begged to bite.
He nodded instead. “Yeah. She gets a new phone. Whatever she wants. Just—fuck, just keep doing that.”
Sebastian smiled like it hurt, like it meant too much. Ezra swore he could taste his hope in the air. He rocked forward, burying Ezra deeper inside him, letting his head fall forward until their foreheads touched.
“Good,” he whispered. “You’re not as heartless as you pretend to be.”
Ezra’s hand slid up his back, curling around the base of his neck. The smell was strongest there. Sweet and raw and vulnerable.
“Don’t start.”
“I mean it.”
“Then shut up and move.”
Sebastian did.
Their rhythm built slow, breathy and quiet, like they didn’t want to wake the house—but every drag and slide and gasp was an offering. Ezra was losing himself.
The scent of Sebastian, the way he opened for him, the heat of it all—it clawed at Ezra’s composure, peeled away his restraint.
Ezra’s hands slid from his waist to his thighs. His strength surged without warning, and in one smooth motion, he flipped them—rolling Sebastian beneath him, keeping their bodies joined so he didn’t slip out. Sebastian gasped, legs briefly tense before Ezra coaxed them open again.
“Shit—Ezra—” Sebastian whispered, his voice catching, curls wild around his flushed face. His scent spiked in response, Omega fear mixing with trust. Ezra growled low in his throat—not at the fear, but the surrender.
Ezra leaned in, bracing himself on one arm, the other curling around the back of Sebastian’s thigh. He lifted it, kissed his knee, then hooked Sebastian’s socked foot over his shoulder—then the other.
The socks were ridiculous. White with little faded stars on them.
“You wore these to bed?” Ezra muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching despite the heat in his eyes.
Sebastian glared at him, flushed and wild-eyed. “Not like I knew I’d be doing this at 3 a.m.”
Ezra gave a low chuckle, deep and gravelly. It came from his chest—almost a growl. He adjusted his angle, pressing forward again. The way Sebastian arched—bare chest rising, skin damp and sweet—made Ezra’s mouth water.
Then Sebastian whimpered, soft and high, and Ezra’s hand clamped gently over his mouth. “Hey,” he murmured, voice low and animal. “You wanna wake up the pups?”
Sebastian narrowed his eyes and shoved his hand away. “Then you stop hitting that spot.”
Ezra grinned—feral and bright. His teeth grazed Sebastian’s throat. Lightly. Then a little harder. A warning. A tease. His jaw flexed. He could bite him right now.
“You’re the loud one,” he murmured, brushing Sebastian’s sweaty curls off his forehead. “Always have been.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes, but it faltered halfway. He looked down, gaze dragging between their bodies, and Ezra felt the clench again—so tight, so sweet, so slick he could’ve sworn he was being milked for every last drop of control.
Ezra’s hand slid up again, fingers curling beneath the arch of Sebastian’s foot on his shoulder. His other hand brushed along Sebastian’s side, thumb running slowly over the dip of his waist, then up to trace the shape of a scar Ezra hadn’t realized he’d memorized. He leaned down, lips brushing Sebastian’s jaw.
“You okay?” he asked, voice gravel-soft. Not because he doubted—but because he needed to know. Because it mattered.
Sebastian’s eyes widened a little. He hadn’t expected it. Not with the way Ezra had growled, how close he’d come to biting.
“Yeah,” he whispered, breathless. The scent he released then was almost submissive in its sweetness—Omega trust. Ezra inhaled like he needed it to breathe.
Ezra nodded like it didn’t shake him. But it did. It was in every slow thrust, every soft stroke of his hand, the way he held Sebastian close, kissed his throat without biting it, the way he whispered into his skin.
He buried his face in Sebastian’s neck, lips brushing there, not kissing—not quite.
Sebastian gasped, his legs tightening around Ezra’s waist.
“Ez,” he whispered, high and broken.
Ezra scraped his teeth down the curve of Sebastian’s neck. Gently. Possessive. “Shh, baby, I got you.”
He didn’t even realize he’d said it.
But Sebastian did.
And he didn’t correct him. Not with words. Just with the way he wrapped his arms around Ezra’s back and held him there like he didn’t want him to leave.
Like maybe neither of them did.