Chapter Text
Mai had really plumbed the depths of desperation. This wasn’t a position she had ever thought she would find herself in, but here she was—standing at the door of a wealthy alpha, with the intention of being paid to spend his rut with him.
In her defense, she had never planned this far.
When she was twelve, her mother had died after years of fighting debilitating illness. Her father was long dead, since she had been three—he had no siblings, and his grandparents, who had both been only children, were also long deceased. The same was true of Mai’s mother, except her grandmother had had a sibling—but her maternal great-aunt was deceased as well, and any family descended from her had never sought out Mai or responded to the system’s requests for biological family to care for her.
Still, she hadn’t ended up in foster care or an orphanage—instead, her sweet, kind elementary school teacher who had been her greatest supporter had lent both her home and her financial aid to Mai to get her through high school and middle school.
Mai had been bright and happy, unwilling to be pushed down by the misfortunes of life. She’d made two of the best friends she’d ever have—friends she was still in touch with today.
But her teacher, who was in her elder years, had gotten sick shortly after her high school graduation, and Mai had postponed attending college to take care of her. She had intended to work to supplement in the interim until she had the time to apply to and attend college.
Between caring for her teacher and working, she hadn’t been able to pick up enough hours to make the money she needed. Moreover, though she didn’t have to contribute to her teacher’s care monetarily—her teacher’s extended family had taken care of that—she was the only caretaker her teacher had. Her teacher had insisted that she stop and attend college, that she couldn’t waste her time on an old lady when she was young and had her future ahead of her—
But Mai, at that time, had only cared that she wouldn’t lose the last maternal figure she had left.
Not that it mattered, of course. Her teacher had inevitably died anyway, but peacefully, in her sleep. In her will, she’d left Mai a significant sum—and because of that, her extended family, who had always seen Mai as a burden, could not have been faster to cut her off.
Despite feeling spite towards them, Mai couldn’t blame them. She wasn’t related to them and they hardly knew her—they had no reason to care about her, and every reason to hate her for taking away something that should have been theirs by right. At the same time—perhaps, if they had wanted her teacher to give them more, they should have actually visited her once or twice while she was ailing.
But that was all in the past. She’d been working for a year now, and she still didn’t have nearly enough to enroll into college, even with the sum her teacher had left her, and still be able to afford the cost of living. She’d have to decrease her shifts to be able to make it to her classes, too—it was unfeasible.
Until her coworker had introduced her to the website that seemed to be the perfect solution—if she was willing to give up something most omegas considered nigh sacred. Her first time.
Well, Mai had thought to herself somewhat drily, it isn’t as though I’ll ever have the time for dating at this rate.
She’d been working since high school, and romance hadn’t even been a thought. The her of middle school had still been recovering from her mother’s death. Again, not exactly in the mood to chase after boys, even as her friends had done so relentlessly, and teased her for her lack of interest.
A part of her lamented it, that she’d never be able to experience that type of sweet romance. The rest of her acknowledged that perhaps she was never meant to in the first place.
The website that her coworker had introduced her to was one that allowed alphas to seek companions for ruts, and respectively, one that allowed omegas to seek companions for heats. It was transactional, and undoubtedly, it qualified as sex work, but it wasn’t sketchy, as far as Mai was aware. Certain health documentations were necessary to apply as a companion or be provided one, and government identification as well. The website was also verified by the Ministry of Health, Labor, and Welfare—it seemed fully legitimate.
The alpha that had chosen her, not long after she’d applied (thankfully), was one that was so attractive in his candid that she thought perhaps he’d touched it up a bit, because no real person could possibly look like that, and need to find an omega online to…
Well, have sex.
Still, his request had been a bit unusual. Apparently, he was an alpha that had suppressed his ruts since his first back when he was an adolescent—meaning he hadn’t had a rut in years—and recently been informed by a doctor that it might be permanently damaging to his health if he didn’t stop taking suppressants soon, at least temporarily. On top of that, if he did, he could not have his next rut alone—his alpha would react violently without anyone to be around, and an omega would be best—alphas in rut almost never reacted violently to omegas, because their protective instincts overrode their aggressive instincts.
Mai worried a bit, but she had decided that she would take whoever came, and if anything, it wasn’t as though he’d been rejected by the website, so surely it ought to be safe.
It was important to note that neither a heat nor a rut required companionship, whether it was someone of a different secondary gender or not—but in cases like this alpha’s, it was considered a benefit.
He’d only spoken a few words to her over the website’s direct messaging system—he’d asked whether she was currently in a relationship, and when she’d clarified that she’d never been in one, the only thing he’d replied with was “Acceptable.” Then she’d gotten an approval message, and now she was here, at his address—which was one of the priciest hotels in Shibuya. She highly doubted he lived here—it was more likely that this was the place he had chosen to stick out a rut with an unknown omega.
She knocked on the door, having already rung the bell downstairs to be allowed up—and having felt vastly uncomfortable in the process, given that she was wearing a worn olive cardigan over cotton grey tights, short hair unevenly curling around her neck, and a face bare of makeup. She’d bought minimal necessities and two changes of clothes—a rut lasted anywhere from about three days to a week. She hadn’t missed the judgmental looks from the staff, but she’d held her head up high and tried to ignore them—she knew her value, even if they did not.
The door clicked open, and she was faced by the alpha who would take her first time—Shibuya Kazuya—and realized that he was every bit as beautiful as the profile picture on the website had shown him to be, but every bit as sour-faced as well. Dark hair, soft and glossy with tints of deep blue in the light, fell over his forehead, cut evenly. Eyes that could be anywhere from midnight blue to deep indigo to wine violet ran over her form, and she flushed, suddenly feeling her classlessness in a way that even the staff hadn’t been able to make her feel. His jawline was sharp, with high cheekbones and pale skin—his features were ever so slightly mixed, further enhanced by his eye color.
He was tall—at least a head taller than her—and wore a silky grey dress shirt, combined with dark blue track pants. Despite the odd juxtaposition, he only seemed to look like a model in the outfit.
And he smelled like tea. Black tea, with hints of something citrus-y and a clear bitterness, but not an unpleasant one—one that was natural for unsweetened tea, and simply a part of the flavor. It wasn’t the smell of a displeased alpha, but neither was it the smell of a happy one. Mai could not help but feel some curiosity at the oddly neutral, but still rather intense, scent.
“Maiko?” he asked.
She nodded. Those who sought companions were not allowed to know the real names of the companions, for their privacy and safety, though the companions were allowed to know the real name of the person they were meant to provide to. This one-way awareness was intentionally not limited by secondary or primary gender—it was because the ones who sought companions were obviously going to be wealthier, and thus more easily capable of taking advantage of the other side regardless of gender. Money washed away all crimes, after all.
Mai wasn’t creative, and she’d ended up picking a name that was similar to her original name, just with different characters. If it was a name she was going to spend a week being called by, she did not want to have to hear one that was wholly unfamiliar, especially when she would probably be…
Shibuya-san opened the door further and allowed her entrance. She stepped in slowly, mindful of her single, sizeable, carry-on. The man glanced down at it, and his expression seemed to twitch slightly.
“Is that your luggage?”
She nodded again, unsure if she should speak. Shibuya-san scowled at her. “I—”
He paused, and his expression stilled, before he spoke again. “I will not be upset if you speak.”
About to nod again, she instead managed to blurt out, “Oh, okay!” Immediately, she felt the need to clap her hands over her mouth, but they were still occupied with her baggage. Shibuya-san’s expression twitched slightly again.
“You may set down your luggage here—this residence is split into two suites, and while we…will likely spend most of the time in mine…you may put your things down in the other, if it allows you to feel safer.”
She was surprised at the way he’d phrased it. “Um, I don’t mind…if the other suite is needed for something else…”
His eyes narrowed. “It is unused,” he said flatly. “Consider keeping your things there—I do not want to be held liable for not allowing you a safe space to retreat to.”
Okay, what an asshole. Mai didn’t let her irritation show on her face, but it was possibly the most condescending way she’d been…offered generosity? It wasn’t as though he was doing something wrong or being unkind—he was right, but the way he spoke was so…
She understood, a little bit, as to why he’d been on the website, even with his face.
Still, with looks like that…well, I think I might care a little less about what comes out of his mouth.
She suppressed her embarrassment at the rude thought quickly and pushed it away. “Thank you for your kindness,” she said, trying for awkward rather than stiff, and coming out in an odd in-between area.
He nodded quickly, and then turned as though he were a robot. “Come to the living room when your things are set up.”
Then he walked away as though he could not pull away from her fast enough.
Mai tabled any budding offense with the growing realization that maybe this really was an alpha with virtually no experience.
Maybe this won’t be as…embarrassing…as I thought it would?
Then she took a look around where she’d entered, and realized just how pricey the place looked, taking on a nigh minimalist design with most things in dark grey or dark brown, all sleek furniture with sharp edges.
Never mind.
***
She smelled intoxicating, and he thought he might go insane. It had to be the oncoming rut, because he’d never found the smell of any omega so appealing—not even before his first and until now, last rut back when he’d been twelve.
Honey and cinnamon, brown sugar and agarwood—she smelled inordinately sweet. He was not someone who liked sweet scents—even his tea he preferred with minimal sugar, ironically overlapping with the scent he’d been told he emitted for others—and yet her scent made him want to bury his face into the soft-looking curve of her neck and collarbone, start purring, and never let go.
Rarely did he hear the voice of the part of him that he considered the alpha—as all of those who presented omega or alpha had, a subliminal, base part of their personality and mind that ran on instinct rather than logic or good sense—and yet he could hear it now, telling him that she was his to keep.
She was not, of course. This was a transaction, but at the very least, it was one that he knew he would not entirely regret, not if he would be spending the next week buried in that scent. He’d never touched another person in a sexual manner at all, before this, and had never wanted to—yet now a good portion of his addled brain hoped desperately that his rut would last a full week, if only to prolong the time with her.
And the work that you came to Japan for? The cases your brother might call you to consult on?
The importance of his work seemed to pale in comparison. Was he truly as desperate as the doctor had implied? He’d been willing to come to Japan in part so that he did not have to see a doctor that could report back to his parents—so that this particular mortifying issue could remain one that only he knew of.
He felt moderately disgusted with himself. Moderately, because it was difficult to even feel that disgust—the prospect of sex with Maiko was far, far too appealing.
He had the realization that every stereotype about alphas he had thought he was above and beyond—it turned out he was the same as the rest.
You’re only human, his mentor’s voice told him meaningfully. He pushed it away, irritated. Being human did not mean feeling sexual desire—plenty of people were asexual, whether alpha or omega or beta—which made it all the more confusing that he felt this way for an omega he’d only known for moments.
Perhaps it was merely something to do with her scent? Scents were deeply connected to memory formation, and hers were all those that he had pleasantly associated memories with—honey in tea, cinnamon in his mother’s baking, brown sugar in both and agarwood in some of his colognes—naturally, she ought to smell pleasing.
It was a good thing, he decided. His alpha had not rejected her presence and would most likely not get violent with her while he was out of his mind during his rut. The very thought seemed to have the presence in his mind recoiling with disgust.
Good.
He lifted his head up from where he’d been sitting on the sofa as he heard the sound of her footsteps entering the room. She looked, somehow, even softer than she had when he’d first looked her over—the brown hair that curled at her neck, short and fluffy, was slightly stuck to her face in certain areas. It was rather warm today, he knew, for Shibuya.
The thoughts brought to mind images of other situations where she might be similarly dripping with sweat.
He pushed them away quickly, before they elicited an embarrassing reaction before his rut had even started.
“Um, how are we going to…?”
“I ceased using my suppressants a week ago,” he said, “as per my treatment plan. I was informed my rut would begin within, by, or in about a week from when I stopped—”
And certain other abilities within his purview had been suppressed via external means, because otherwise, he was fairly sure the building he was standing in would have been half demolished from the moment his alpha had tasted Maiko’s scent.
“—So it’s due now?” she asked.
“Yes, technically. Logistically speaking, I’m sure it will be…more obvious…when it actually starts,” he said, some hesitance in his tone as he tried to sound self-assured and failed. She already knew that this was a new experience for him—and he was aware that it was one for her as well, which unfortunately made that newly-awakened part of his brain (…perhaps not his brain, entirely) only more eager.
She sniffed the air lightly, to his surprise. “Um…to be honest, I think I can kind of smell it? The pre-rut…did you know that you smell like tea?”
“I am aware, yes.” He didn’t know if he should find that embarrassing or not. Are you aware that you, in the most literal of senses, smell like a dessert?
Association of words meant that this thought directly led to the thought of eating, which led to—stop.
That was probably more than enough proof for his being in pre-rut, in all honesty. He hadn’t realized that while he’d been wrestling with his thoughts, Maiko had taken a few steps closer to him, but the increased intensity of her scent caught his attention.
His arm reached out against his will—or perhaps under a will not entirely his own—and snapped around her waist, tugging her onto his lap where he was sitting on the sofa. She tumbled onto him with a tiny yelp rather than a loud shout and looked down at him with flushed cheeks.
“Um, Shibuya-san?”
“N—Kazuya,” he breathed, correcting himself in the nick of time. “Call me Kazuya.” He’d been using the name since his first visit to Japan at the age of sixteen, thankfully, and was moderately used to it, but a part of him had still tried to give her his actual name to call out.
“Th—then, Kazuya. Ah, what do you want me to…?” her voice was as breathy as his own had been just now, and her eyes were focused on his with a sort of lost expression.
Unfortunately for her, he had just as little idea as to what should come next as he did. He did not want to take any ideas offered by his baser self, but he was starting to wonder if he could even think of any other options.
“…What if I, um, kiss you?”
He blinked.
“Yes,” he blurted out, not even finishing having processed the question before the answer came to him. “Please.” Shouldn’t it be me that initiates? He could not help but think that, even as he agreed.
She leaned her head down, a hand reaching up to push a few strands of loose hair behind her ear, as her eyes fluttered shut and her lips pursed slightly—and he did not close his eyes until her lips met his, seeing every individual lash on her eyelids.
The moment her lips touched his, he no longer cared for the slowness and whatever timidity he’d had, insecure and uncomfortable, was shoved away by that irrational, insatiable, unreasonable part of his mind he had been working to suppress for years.
His mind blanked, and a haze took over. He lost the battle he’d been fighting against the urge to purr since he’d tugged her onto his lap.
Sweet, he thought. He reached out to cradle the soft, sweet thing closer, so he could taste it better. It—she, the omega—made a tiny noise in his arms, muffled by his mouth locking with hers, his tongue pushing its way into hers and trying to get a better taste of the sweetness she was offering him.
“Mmm—nnn—Ka—”
Her speech was muffled as he changed the angle to allow him to push his tongue deeper into her mouth, explore better, and she shook in his arms, almost gasping, but her scent didn’t take on any tints of alarm, so he didn’t worry that he was hurting her.
Instead, he could smell the sweetness of arousal from her now as well, mixed with the existing sweetness emitted by her very presence. His grip on her tightened as he acknowledged that he had been starving for far too long, and then further decided that there was no need to hold back when he was offered a meal clearly meant to be savored.
His mouth pulled away from hers, eliciting yet another startled sound from her, as he trailed it down along the curve of her neck. It caught at the joint of her peach-toned, leather collar, hiding her scent glands away from him, but he respected the boundary that had been set—he was allowed to enjoy her, not to mate her. He still tugged at it lightly with his sharpening teeth anyway, toying with it for a moment before resuming sucking kisses into her soft flesh.
He paused at her collarbone, where he bit lightly. He did not intend to bite a mark there—it was just a temptation that he hadn’t been able to resist. As she had been throughout his other explorations of her neck, she continued to make the soft, sweet little noises of pleased surprise.
He had pushed the neckline of her cardigan to the side to be able to suck and kiss her bare flesh as he pleased, and now he made his way back up to nibble on her ear and the line of her jaw. She squirmed in his grasp at the sudden change of action. He wasn’t relenting, though—simply playing with her for a little before he tugged at the hem of the cardigan, not downwards, but upwards.
“Off,” he muttered into the curve of her jaw. He heard a responding hum from her, and she carefully pulled away from him as her hands left where they had been gripping at his shoulders and his waist in turns to reach for the same hem he’d just tugged at.
“…Shouldn’t we move, first?” she asked, voice small and tentative, tugging at it without pulling it upwards.
He considered this. They were still in the living room, which, while a perfectly decent setting, had no bed or—no nest. Ah. He was being discourteous to her, as an alpha. He nodded, and before she could move herself off his lap, picked her up into his arms as he stood, with the full intention of carrying her to his bedroom.
“Wait, Kazuya, what are you—!?”
“Moving,” he told her shortly.
“I can walk!”
“Obviously,” he answered to that. That wasn’t why he was carrying her—he was carrying her because he was reluctant to pull away from her. He didn’t need to explain that, though.
His room door was already open, because he knew himself well. He took Maiko into the room but didn’t throw her into the bed like some sort of philistine—he set her down slightly near the edge, and she nearly tumbled backwards again—he thought that she might be a bit clumsy, and found it cute.
Nest, he thought to himself. Despite this being a hotel room, he’d been put up in the place for long enough that it mostly smelled like him, rather than any strange neutral tones. Despite that, however, it was still a hotel room—there were sparse amounts of pillows and blankets, especially since the bedroom was meant for one person.
He still went around Maiko to pull out the comforter, which might suffice as something, and decided that his past self was a fool, for not sufficiently preparing to care for an omega he had every intention of taking advantage of—even more, since he was paying her for this. Would a higher tip make up for the lack of attentiveness?
The sweet scent of omega came closer to him, and a hand reached out for his arm. “Hey,” her voice murmured softly. “You smell upset, what’s wrong?”
He had stayed in that position, looking at the inadequate nest, for longer than he had intended. It was that fugue state, and the turmoil running through his mind, that let the honest thoughts escape his lips without his usual filters in place.
“…Not good enough,” he said, tone low and quiet.
***
At first, Mai thought he might mean that she wasn’t good enough, as an omega. She was inordinately hurt for a split second, her omega ready to take over in her upset, before her common sense knocked the sensitive part of her in the head—she was mildly intoxicated by the alpha’s scent, not in the middle of heat.
Shibuya-san—Kazuya—was not looking at her. Just a moment ago, he had been trying to do something as he pulled pillows and blankets together—oh. He’d been trying to make her a nest and gotten upset when he hadn’t had the right materials—
Oh, that’s cute. That’s so cute. She could feel trembling vibrations starting up in the back of her throat, her chest, fighting to be let out.
The happy-adorable feeling that bubbled inside of her was likely presenting itself in her scent, because Kazuya turned to look at her with fully dilated eyes, as though he were drunk. In the throes of the first rut he’d had in years, he probably was—his articulacy had gone down significantly after Mai had kissed him, and the way he’d started to touch her and kiss her was a far cry from the awkward alpha that she had encountered when she’d first entered the apartment.
She didn’t think he suddenly loved her—it was probably more that his alpha instincts were in control, and alongside them, the rut-induced desire to mate with the nearest moderately appealing omega, which was her.
That being said, desire to mate didn’t necessarily include wanting to build a nest, which was usually an instinct omegas in heat had more often, though it wasn’t uncommon for alphas in rut to want to provide. It meant that Kazuya wasn’t as much of a cold person as his demeanor seemed to imply—more likely, he was just socially awkward. He wouldn’t be the first alpha Mai had met with the issue.
“It’s okay,” she told him gently, cupping his cheek, realizing that the rumble she had felt from his chest as he’d been kissing her moments ago had stopped. She opted to be honest—he was already aware she was doing this for money, after all. “This is probably a better nest I could make at my actual home. I don’t even have a bed—just a futon.”
He blinked at her owlishly. Then his arm wrapped around her again, and he pulled her as he himself tilted back into the bed, with her body falling on top of his. He didn’t even seem out of breath—he only gazed up at her and said, “For you.”
Her heart sped up as an internal part of her practically squealed. Yes, please!
“Thank you,” she told him, and lowered her head to press her lips against his. He kissed her back with the same fervor as earlier, despite not being the one to initiate, and she felt a hand push the back of her cardigan up, fingers pressing into the bare skin beneath as it was exposed to slightly cooler air after being covered under the heat outdoors.
Her breath hitched at the unfamiliar sensation of being touched like that for the first time. It wasn’t as though she had never had her lower back touched—it was more that no one had touched the bare skin there, ever, and his hand only slid lower as it pushed downwards on the waistband of her tights.
“Off?” he said again, but this time as a question rather than a demand, asking if it was alright to do so now. A gentle murmur emanated from under his breath once more—his purr had resumed.
“Right,” she said, in a little breathy tone that made her somewhat embarrassed to hear, and backed away from him, trying to sit up to get her cardigan off. Sitting up, however, came with the direction realization that she was sitting on him—thankfully, on his lower abdomen rather than his crotch, but nonetheless.
It was probably why he hadn’t tried to keep her close and continued kissing her—because she would still be…in contact with some part of him. He stared up at her almost patiently, hand still resting under her cardigan on the lower part of her back.
She flushed at the openly observing expression and began to pull up the fabric of her cardigan to take it off. She was thankful she couldn’t see what his face looked like as she did so—she didn’t think she would be able to handle seeing him watch her basically stripping, even though she was sure his focus hadn’t wavered in the slightest.
When she met his eyes again after pushing her cardigan off and tossing it to the side, they were very much not focused on hers. Rather, they were at her chest level, staring at—her sports bra.
Yes, she was aware that generally speaking, an omega going into this type of situation might wear risqué lingerie, but she was also financially strapped—she couldn’t exactly afford to get a thin, lacy item that offered little support or coverage for the amount it would cost. Instead, she’d put on the cutest item she could find—a modest, plain, cream-colored sports bra with a little peach-toned bow between the cups as its only accessory.
Her chest wasn’t sizeable—one of her close friends had been offended when she’d once called herself flat, but in the face of her other close friend, calling her bust large would be laughable.
Still, it seemed as though the alpha didn’t particularly care about any of that. His expression was still frustratingly neutral, but the focus of his eyes was more telling than anything. Both of his hands were now high on her waist, thumb stroking lightly across her skin.
His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t say anything, eyes moving from her chest to her face.
She reached for the clasp of her bra on her back, unsure of what she should do, next, and asked, “…This too?”
Instead of the nod or the answer of “Yes,” she had expected, she was surprised when the clasp—broke? The bra, with nothing to hold it up, fell off on its own, and she instinctively covered her chest in her surprise. Kazuya made a mildly disgruntled noise, purr in his chest stuttering, as the bra fell on his chest, and one of his hands left her waist to toss it over where she had thrown her cardigan.
“Don’t hide,” he said, and she remembered where her hands were set.
Right, we’re going to—there’s no point in hiding anything. She tried not to seem shy or hesitant as she moved her hands away. Unsure of what to do with them, she set them on his chest, around where his shirt was buttoned right up to the collar.
Aiming for seductive, she asked huskily, “Sh—should I take this off for you, too?”
He nodded quickly, continuing to stare at her, and she felt his grip tighten as she tried to quickly undo the buttons on the shirt. It wasn’t hard, but she could smell a certain level of impatience as she did so—and she realized that undoing the last few buttons would require her moving back from where she was sitting, right onto his—
Oh. Oh, wow, um.
He was definitely aroused. Did he just have extremely good self-control? Was he repressed, or something? Mai had honestly expected him to pin her down and have his way with her, but up until this point, he had only become any sort of active when she had taken the initiative—as though waiting for her permission to let go.
She suddenly wondered what he was like normally. Her first experience with an alpha, that she had thought would be something that was taken from her, was instead starting to feel a bit like she was giving something away to someone who would take whatever she had to offer, even if it was meager, and no more.
When she had brushed against his—his erection, she clearly thought to herself, annoyed at herself being embarrassed about using the word at this point—Kazuya had sharply hissed, but not otherwise moved. Now, however, as she undid the last button on his shirt, she was startled as he pushed himself up slightly on his elbows, pulled the shirt off himself and threw it to the side, and then pulled her back down so she was flush against him, her breasts pressed against the bare flesh of his chest.
He didn’t have anything like a rock-hard abdomen from a magazine cover (which honestly seemed unappealing), but nor was he entirely skinny and bony, or completely soft. Somewhere in between, he was clearly fit enough—Mai wondered if he worked out—and yet comfortable enough to rest against.
It’s…warm…no, it almost feels like he’s feverish. Is that the rut?
His neck was bare of any covering, since Mai wasn’t the one in heat and had no intention of otherwise trying to put a claiming mark on him. It was a mark of trust from him, as well, but she blinked in surprise when the alpha, noticing where her eyes had gone, bared his neck slightly in offering.
She shook her head. “No, remember? Let’s just…” She pressed a kiss onto his collarbone, mirroring what he had done earlier, and could feel his pleased hum, mingled with affectionate purring, in response through where she was pressed against him.
She continued to kiss upwards, sliding her body against his, and felt his hands run up and down her abdomen in response—and nearly bit him far too close to his scent glands when one hand took her breast into it.
She felt him huff and scented—amusement? He thought that it was funny she’d almost bitten him where she absolutely could not? She huffed back in offense and nipped lightly at his jaw in reprimand.
He flicked at her nipple.
She yelped and pulled upwards, not sitting up, but angling herself so she could see his face, and saw that his eyes were slightly creased.
“Bad,” she scolded.
“Liar,” he replied, nose twitching slightly. He was using her scent to counter her words—since she didn’t smell displeased, naturally, she must have enjoyed it, right?
…Well, he wasn’t wrong. The jolt of sensation in that sensitive area on her chest had made something low in her stomach squirm in pleasure—she had the thought that perhaps she should get the clothing in her lower half off faster, before cleaning it up later became more of a hassle than it was worth.
Before she could, however, she was distracted by the alpha under her toying with her breasts a bit more, and then pulling her upwards so that they were hanging practically over his face—she was mortified but couldn’t exactly tell him to stop when he hadn’t yet done anything. Also, she hadn’t quite registered this before, but her breast quite literally fit into his hand—as in, his entire hand was encompassing…
She swallowed.
It was then that he flipped them over, and suddenly it was him hovering over her, looking down at her as she stared up at him with wide eyes. What is he—?
Is this it, is he going to—
He pressed his face between her breast and breathed in deeply, rubbing his cheek against one like a particularly affectionate cat.
…Ah. Whatever she had expected, it hadn’t been that. She curved her neck to try to still see him, and he tilted his head upwards to meet her gaze as he grazed his teeth lightly over the side of one breast.
Was he listening to her own purr, or cuddling her for warmth? Either way, it felt less like a sexual overture, and more like an affection-seeking one.
Then he took her breast into his mouth, and her mind changed quickly, because the way his tongue swirled around her areola and twisted around her nipple was most definitely arousing rather than cute, and his other hand doing similar motions to her other breast was most definitely not helping.
“Ah,” she gasped, trying to restrain the sound, but he pressed down on both nipples harder, as though insisting that she not do so.
It’s embarrassing!
Then she became more intensely aware of where the rest of their bodies overlapped, as his clothed lower half ground down on hers, and she could no longer restrain the urge to moan.
***
She smelled better, in that place that was so close to her heart. Pressing his face between her breasts meant that he could hear her rapidly pulsing heartbeat, feel the warmth emanating from her, bury himself in the softness of her flesh at her core.
He continued to play with her breasts, eliciting soft little moans and an increasingly high pitch of purr from her, and eventually switched hand and mouth to the one that hadn’t received each, pleased by how much she was enjoying it. He was an inexperienced alpha, not an ignorant one.
But as much as he was enjoying the parts of her that she had offered up to him, he wanted to see the rest of her as well—to taste the rest of her.
It was with reluctance that he pulled away from her chest, and both her scent and the upset half-stalled moan that came from her informed him of her agreement. The purr that had been emanating from her, matching his own, half-stalled. He pulled upwards, separating from her for a moment, and to the side, his hands moving down to her waistband.
“Ah—oh, you—”
She didn’t finish what she had been intending to say as he tugged her waistband downwards, but when he had them halfway down, he remembered. He looked up at her and asked, “Okay?”
Her expression abruptly looked annoyed. “Yes, it’s okay, take them off already!”
He obediently did so, entirely pleased by her reaction, and threw them in the same direction the rest of their clothes were piled up. Then he looked her over again, at the marks he’d peppered along her collarbone, the ones he’d more recently covered her breasts in, and then her lower half, which wasn’t marked up at all.
He would have to change that.
His eyes moved down to her panties—utilitarian, like her bra had been, a light brown color with a single light blue bow in the center, and slightly darker in color near where her arousal had begun to leak.
He restrained the urge to press his face against it immediately, and instead stroked a finger along the lining of the underwear, brushing the soft skin of her inner thigh. “Off?” he asked teasingly.
She could tell that he was teasing her, and she glared at him in response, even as his touch caused that dark spot to darken a bit more.
Instead of lifting up the waistband of her panties, he pushed them to the side at where he had been stroking, and stroked two fingers along the lip that was now visible, continuing to tease her. Then he pulled the cloth back over where he had uncovered.
“Wait, what—”
He pressed his thumb down firmly, right above the wet patch, fairly sure of himself, and was pleased by the sensation under his finger and the loud, strangled gasp that came from her. He stroked downwards, parting her lips under the already wet fabric—he would let her use his laundry facilities, later, he decided—and teasing her with both his fingers and the fabric.
It was the way she reacted—observing it, cataloguing it, understanding what she liked and what didn’t seem to garner much reaction—that had him acting so slowly. He wanted to savor the omega under him and had already long erased from his mind the possibility that he would only see her this one time—he would do whatever it took to encourage her to let him see her again.
Having teased her to the point where he could smell her arousal even from his vantage point, he lowered his face and gave up on his restraint, burying his face in the sweet-smelling fabric and breathing in the scent of her from between her thighs.
Honey, he thought. She smells like honey.
The other notes in her scent weren’t as strong here, though honey itself wasn’t a particularly strong scent. But it was potent, in this area. His actions became thoughtless as he licked at the fabric, and as he distantly heard the omega, in a protesting tone, tell him to at least take it off before he—
The fabric tore apart.
Strike two. What was the point of the seal if it hardly worked?
He’d been informed that it wasn’t foolproof, but now he worried about actually hurting the omega—and yet he couldn’t stop at this point. Not when his hand had already pushed the scraps of fabric to the side and he’d wrapped his lips around her exposed, pink nub, sucking on it, licking at it, tasted the sweetness of it, and as his mouth moved lower and lower, where she was practically soaking—
He considered the prospect of waking up to this every morning instead of tea, and found that it wasn’t unappealing at all. He continued to lick at and savor her taste, the sound of her reactions becoming pleasant background music to the buzz in his mind.
He himself was hard, stiff in an almost painful way, but it was easy to ignore when faced with the prospect of pleasing her instead—it was easy to re-order his priorities.
When her pleasure built to the point where she could no longer hold back, he made sure she came directly into his mouth—he wouldn’t let any of it go to waste.
He was gentle enough, afterwards, to not continue stimulating her. She was likely oversensitive, twitching as she was, and he could hear her heavy panting—he lay his head against her thigh for a second, before moving up so he could see her face better and was slightly alarmed by the fact that her eyes had begun to water, and at least one stream of wetness trailed down her cheek.
“Too much?” he asked, reaching out to brush his thumb against the tear track.
She shook her head quickly. “No, just—it was a lot. Uh. Wait, but you haven’t…”
He nodded, and then pulled off his own pants—and boxers—and tossed both aside in a quick motion. Then he cupped her lower half in his hands, and said, “Ready now.”
Her expression looked slightly confused. “Ready…?”
“Wet,” he explained, slipping a finger in between the folds.
She whimpered, still visibly sensitive, and her eyes widened. “Ah—oh…”
***
Mai could feel the hot length of the alpha pressing against her leg, now that he had stripped away the only things still separating the bare flesh of his lower half from hers. She didn’t know if he was large or small—it wasn’t as though she had a basis for comparison—but she wondered at whether he would fit inside of her anyway.
He was an alpha, so he was already likely larger than average anyway, and she was actually below the average omega height, not that omegas were tall to begin with. In other words, she was considerably smaller than him in several aspects, which was why he’d been able to move her around so easily this whole time.
One thing she wasn’t worried about was pregnancy, at the very least. Birth control for omegas often came with several other risks, but it was heavily loaded with the intention of preventing pregnancy because sex was so frequent. Alphas did not want to deal with unasked for children, and condoms, though a massively useful tool, were useless for alphas in rut, whose knots would typically damage them, regardless of the size.
There were horror stories of plastic being stuck in unsavory places for omegas and alphas who used condoms during heats and ruts, especially since omegas could also lock during their heats, and thus create a double-ended issue of things being lodged in places they should not, and extra fluid straining a material that wasn’t meant to be strained in that manner.
Mai was also on heat suppressants to prevent a pseudo-heat from occurring, though her last due heat had already passed.
But…
Kazuya would still be inside her. Given that he was in rut, he’d most definitely knot her—knots could last hours. What would it be like, to be stuck to a person for that long…?
She felt Kazuya’s lips brush against her cheek, and realized that the finger he’d slipped inside of her was still there, rough against the tenderness she was still experiencing.
“Okay?” he asked, apparently having noticed her apprehension—or maybe it was present in her scent. His own black tea scent had only been ripe with arousal the whole time, with the occasional note of pleasure and want, and a tint of joy that was so small that Mai had wondered if it was just her own wishfulness.
Now, however, his worry was present in his scent. She would be blind to have not noticed how focused the alpha seemed to be on her pleasure, despite being the one in rut—the more aroused she was, the more aroused he seemed to be.
“Okay,” she assured him, because she no longer felt any fear that he was going to push her in a way that she didn’t want. Even when his mouth had been latched onto a place no one but her had ever touched ever before, it hadn’t felt unpleasant in the slightest—
Actually, it had felt so unbelievably good she had teared up, which was embarrassing in its own way, because he’d clearly thought he’d upset her for a moment.
No, but apparently I cry during sex, which is mortifying. Talk about giving mixed signals.
He pressed against her, burrowing his face into her neck against her collar, and hummed. Then another finger slipped inside, stroking gently, as though he were trying to savor the way she felt rather than actually prepare her.
It was unbearable, especially after she had just come.
“Nngh,” she said. “Too slow.”
Kazuya continued to hum, but pushed a third finger inside of her, and the stroking turned into quick thrusts that pressed deeper each time, as though he were searching for—
“Ah!” she gasped, and felt her back arc in pleasure as the thrusts of his fingers reached the spot they were meant for, and she didn’t even register until the next moment it was his hand pumping her rather than his fingers until it was gone, and he was pushing against her. She felt something thick and warm press inside of her, a wholly different feeling from his hand. The sensation, despite being foreign, felt as though it were fulfilling a need she didn’t know she had until that moment.
More, she thought, and then realized she had said aloud when Kazuya pressed deeper into her, and she moaned. The sound was caught in the next moment as Kazuya’s mouth slammed down her own, tongue pushing inside and tangling with her own tongue like he was trying to eat her.
She certainly felt as though she were being eaten, in a metaphorical way, as her eyes watered again and as she kissed him—ate him—back—as she gasped into his mouth and dug her nails into his back, as she felt him pull up and then thrust even deeper inside of her, the edges of her vision dimming just a bit.
There’s so much—he’s—in me—
It was so strange, but such a good kind of strange, as he rocked deeper and deeper into her, as she felt herself floating further and further away, the hands gripping at him the only thing keeping her anchored—and how different this was from when he’d been licking at her earlier, which had made her see stars, but now even more of him was buried inside of her—
And then she felt the first wave of hotness inside her, sticky and warm, and she gasped away from Kazuya’s mouth, which was latched onto her neck right above her collar, teeth buried in her neck in a semblance of a mating bite he wasn’t allowed to give her but that the alpha so clearly wanted to anyway.
Having released inside her once, she felt the alpha still, and was about to protest when she felt him swell inside of her and—
Oh. He’s—
He was knotting her. Not for the first time, the omega part of her reacted, keening blissfully as it was sated in a way that it had never been. Already, it was telling her to take off her collar, to bite at the alpha’s neck—but the thoughts did not overwhelm her as they would have were she in heat, so she didn’t do anything of the sort.
She continued to hold onto to him, and to take what he was giving her—pushing inside of her—as he stretched her out in ways she didn’t know she could stretch—
So much, it’s so much, but I want more—