Chapter Fourty Four

Chapter Fourty Four
The knot throbbed inside Oliver, holding them locked as aftershocks rippled through their joined bodies, Oliver's walls clenching sporadically around the swollen base, drawing out the last pulses of Grey's release. Sweat cooled on their skin, breaths mingling in heavy pants, Oliver's weight slumped forward against Grey's chest, his cock softening but still leaking a final dribble onto the slick mess already painting Grey's torso.

Grey's hands, still stroking Oliver's back in lazy circles, tightened suddenly, fingers digging into the muscle with possessive force. The knot began to deflate, the pressure easing inch by inch, Oliver's body shifting with a soft groan as Grey's cock slipped free, cum leaking out in a thick trickle down Oliver's thighs. The separation sent a fresh spark through the bond, absence aching like a physical pull, but Grey didn't give Oliver time to recover. His eyes snapped open, gold flecks gleaming with renewed hunger, and he bucked his hips upward with raw power, flipping their positions in one explosive move.

Oliver hit the couch on his back with a startled yelp, legs splaying wide as Grey loomed over him, muscles coiling like a predator reclaiming his territory. Grey's hands pinned Oliver's wrists to the cushions above his head, knees forcing Oliver's thighs apart until his spent cock flopped against his stomach, ass exposed and dripping with Grey's seed. 'My turn now,' Grey growled, voice rough and commanding, fangs bared as he leaned down, breath hot against Oliver's neck. He nipped the skin there, not breaking it this time, but hard enough to leave teeth marks, a warning bite that made Oliver shiver and arch.

Oliver's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and excitement flashing across his face, his cock twitching back to life despite the recent orgasm. 'Grey—wait, I just—' His protest cut off into a gasp as Grey's free hand slid down, cupping Oliver's balls and squeezing gently, rolling them in his palm before trailing fingers through the mess of cum leaking from Oliver's hole. The touch was rough, possessive, smearing the slickness back inside with two thick digits pushing past the rim without preamble. Oliver's body clenched around the intrusion, still sensitive and loose from before, but Grey didn't ease in—he scissored his fingers wide, stretching the walls, curling to drag against the prostate with deliberate pressure.

'Fuck—!' Oliver bucked, hips lifting off the couch, the bond flooding him with the echo of his own pleasure rebounding into Grey, making the alpha's cock harden fully again, slapping heavy against Oliver's thigh. Grey pumped his fingers faster, adding a third to open him wider, the wet squelch of cum and spit filling the air as he finger-fucked Oliver relentlessly. Each thrust hit deep, knuckles brushing the rim, twisting to grind against that spot until Oliver's cock stood rigid once more, precome beading at the tip and dripping down the shaft.

Grey watched Oliver's face contort in pleasure-pain, lips parted on moans that grew louder, more desperate. The scent of their arousal thickened, musky and potent, driving Grey's wolf wild—fangs elongating further, a low rumble vibrating in his chest. He withdrew his fingers abruptly, the sudden emptiness making Oliver whine and clench around nothing, hole gaping slightly, flushed and begging. Grey gripped his own cock, stroking once to coat it in the leaking cum, the head purpled and slick, veins throbbing with need. He lined up, pressing the blunt tip against Oliver's entrance, holding there just long enough to tease, feeling the pucker flutter against him.

Grey thrust in—hard, no mercy, burying half his length in one brutal shove. Oliver cried out, back bowing off the couch, walls spasming around the invasion as the bond lit up like fireworks, Grey's pleasure crashing into Oliver's in a dual wave that made stars burst behind their eyelids. Grey didn't pause; he pulled back only to slam home again, balls slapping against Oliver's ass, filling him completely. The stretch burned, Oliver's body yielding to the force, cum from before easing the way but not dulling the intensity.

Grey set a punishing rhythm from the start, hips snapping forward with wolfish strength, each plunge driving deeper, harder, the couch shifting under the assault. His grip on Oliver's wrists bruised, holding him immobile as he fucked into him, cock dragging along the walls, hitting the prostate with every inward stroke. Oliver's legs wrapped around Grey's waist instinctively, heels digging into his back to pull him closer, but Grey controlled it all—pulling out to the tip before ramming back in, the wet slap of skin echoing louder than their gasps.

'Yes—harder,' Oliver challenged, voice wrecked, head thrashing as pleasure coiled tight in his gut again. The bond amplified every sensation: the drag of Grey's cockhead against his rim, the fullness stretching him wide, the way Grey's balls tightened with each thrust. Grey released one wrist to grab Oliver's thigh, hooking it over his shoulder for a deeper angle, folding him nearly in half. The position let him pound straight into that sweet spot, relentless, his free hand wrapping around Oliver's cock and stroking in rough jerks—fist tight, thumb pressing the slit to coax more precome.

Oliver's moans turned to sobs, body trembling under the onslaught, sweat flying with each impact. Grey leaned down, capturing Oliver's mouth in a fierce kiss, teeth nipping his lower lip until it bled faintly, tongue licking the copper tang as he continued to thrust. He broke the kiss to trail bites down Oliver's neck, sucking marks into the skin—collarbone, shoulder—claiming every inch. 'You're mine,' Grey rasped against his ear, hips grinding in a deep circle before resuming the brutal pace, cock swelling thicker inside the clenching heat.

The room filled with the sounds of their coupling: grunts, slaps, the creak of the couch threatening to give way. Oliver's hand—now free—clawed at Grey's back, nails raking red lines down the spine, urging him on. Grey's wolf surged closer, a snarl escaping as he felt Oliver's walls tighten, the bond signaling the building climax. He sped up, thrusts turning erratic, pounding with all his strength, hand pumping Oliver's cock faster, twisting at the head to heighten the friction.

'Cum—now,' Grey commanded, voice gravelly, and bit down on Oliver's shoulder—fangs piercing skin this time, blood welling hot and metallic. The pain tipped Oliver over, his cry muffled against Grey's neck as his cock erupted, spurting thick ropes across his own chest, some hitting Grey's jaw. The clench around Grey's length was vise-like, milking him, and Grey followed seconds later, roaring as he flooded Oliver's ass with hot cum, hips stuttering to a halt buried deep, pulsing with release.

They shuddered together, the bond weaving their orgasms into one endless peak, bodies locked in the throes. Grey collapsed onto Oliver, still inside him, breaths ragged as the afterglow settled. Cum leaked around his softening cock, mixing with the blood from the bite, their scents entwined in possession and satisfaction. Oliver's arms wrapped around Grey, a lazy smile curving his lips despite the exhaustion. 'Round two goes to you,' he murmured, voice hoarse, but the spark in his eyes promised more challenges ahead.

They went at it through the night, bodies tangled in a haze of heat and need, until exhaustion claimed them. Oliver woke alone in Grey's bed, the sheets rumpled and scented with their mingled sweat. He scoffed under his breath—Grey hadn't changed. Always bolting the moment the afterglow faded, leaving Oliver to piece himself back together.

As he swung his legs over the edge, a warm trickle of cum slid down his thighs. Damn. Oliver grimaced. In the haze of last night, he’d forgotten the condom tucked into his pocket before he came here. Typical. He sighed, already calculating how fast he could get home and take contraceptives.

His gaze drifted to the clothes strewn across the floor. One by one, he gathered them and set them neatly on the bed before heading into the bathroom. In the en-suite bathroom, he scrubbed his skin raw under the steaming spray, chasing away the evidence of their recklessness. It wouldn't erase the ache, though—or the marks. Emerging with a towel slung low around his hips, water sliding down his torso, tracing the lines of his abs.

That was when the door opened.

Grey walked in, followed by a maid struggling with an enormous tray of food. As the dishes were set on the table, the maids’ eyes kept flicking back to Oliver, their faces flushed. Anyone could see why. He was devastating—marked openly, hickeys scattered across his neck, his lips swollen, his nipples still flushed and sensitive. There was no hiding what kind of night he’d had.

Grey never fetched food himself, not even for Luna Diana. This? This was a declaration. Their Alpha was smitten with this gorgeous interloper. The two men looked devastating side by side—raw power and effortless allure. The maids stifled grins, quietly cheering them on. Anything beat that fake Luna Diana, who sneered at omegas behind her polished mask.

The maids finished arranging the dishes and bowed quickly, cheeks still pink as they slipped out and pulled the door shut behind them. The room fell quiet, save for the faint clink of covered plates and the low crackle of the hearth.

Grey cleared his throat.

“Eat,” he said, gesturing toward the table. His voice was firm, almost brusque—like an order meant to hide something softer underneath. “You didn’t get any sleep.”

Oliver arched a brow, as if to say, whose fault is that? but didn’t argue. He dropped the towel long enough to pull on his trousers, then sat, eyeing the spread with mild surprise. The food was warm, carefully chosen—protein, fruits, broth. Thoughtful. Annoyingly so.

Oliver huffed and took a bite. Then another.

Oliver ate in charged silence, Grey's gaze lingering on Oliver like he couldn't decide whether to devour the food or him next. Oliver savored every bite, acutely aware of Grey's possessive glances. When the plates cleared, he dressed slowly, buttoning his shirt just enough to let the vivid hickeys peek from his collar—purple blooms screaming mine without a word.

It didn't take long. His expectations shattered the door.

Diana barged in without knocking, her ears practically dripping with fury, face twisted in a snarl that stripped away her Luna polish. "What the hell is this?" she spat, eyes locking on the marks like lasers. She stormed toward Oliver, ignoring Grey entirely, her scent spiking with bitter envy—sharp as vinegar cutting through the room's lingering musk.