Unnatural (The Wrong Alpha 1)

Looking down at him with glazed eyes, Haydn yanked Royce’s shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Then he leaned down and murmured against Royce’s ear, “You want to fuck me? Why don’t you prove that you’re worthy first?”

The edges of his vision went red, a growl ripping out of his throat. Royce rolled them over, flipping their positions. Except Haydn didn’t submit easily. They wrestled and grappled, and it took every bit of Royce’s strength to finally pin him to the mattress.

Breathing hard, they looked at each other, both flushed and worked up. Royce had never been harder in his life. His body wanted. He could practically feel blood pulsing in his cock and balls.

Their eyes locked.

And then they were kissing.

Royce groaned, plundering Haydn’s mouth with his tongue and not even caring when their teeth clacked together, unable to kiss him deep enough or hard enough. Haydn surged forward, burying his hand in Royce’s hair and kissing back just as hungrily. He didn’t kiss like omegas did; there was nothing shy or submissive about it. Haydn’s mouth was as aggressive and greedy as his own, and to Royce’s surprise, it wasn’t unappealing at all. But it did trigger his alpha instincts, the air between them thickening with his pheromones.

Haydn whined and bared his throat. Royce latched onto it, sucking hard over the hickey on Haydn’s neck. His. Hishishis.

He trailed his parted lips up Haydn’s neck and kissed his pretty mouth again, shoving his tongue so far down his throat he was embarrassed by his own eagerness. He’d never felt so out of control. Never felt like he wanted to get into another person’s body so badly it felt like a need rather than a want. The sounds Haydn was making went straight to his cock, and Royce found himself shaking with want. He wanted to possess, to take, to claim. Now.

“I want to have you,” he said tightly, staring at the alpha under him. Fuck, he was gorgeous. “I want to take you.”

Haydn’s pupils were so blown his eyes seemed dark. “Then take me,” he whispered, looking Royce in the eye, and spread his legs.

There was a roar in his ears, and after that, everything was something of a blur. Later, Royce honestly wouldn’t remember much of what had happened. He would vaguely remember undressing. He would vaguely remember getting lube somewhere and hastily preparing Haydn. He would remember Haydn’s blue eyes becoming glassy with pleasure as he worked his fingers into him. He would remember scenting Haydn like crazy, needing to make him his.

But everything came into sharp focus as he finally pushed his cock into Haydn. He growled, a low, animal sound, shaking with his entire body as he bottomed out. Fucking finally. After months of tension and frustration, he finally had Haydn where he wanted him: under him, stretched on his cock.

“All right?” he ground out, keeping himself still only through sheer force of will. Haydn felt so tight around him, so perfect, and Royce wanted—needed—to fuck him.

Haydn glared up at him, his legs spread wide to accommodate Royce’s hips between them. “Move,” he growled, his lips swollen from his kisses, his face flushed and eyes glazed with lust. “Fuck me.”

So he did.

There was no finesse about it, just a cock pumping into a hole at a fast rhythm, his body hot with a primitive desire to spill his seed into the other alpha and mark him up from the inside. Thankfully, Haydn didn’t seem to mind. He was moaning under him, moving with him, taking him beautifully. Damn, it felt so good to fuck someone as strong as him. He didn’t have to mind his strength, didn’t have to keep his weight off Haydn, and could just lose himself in the feeling and take, take, take.

They weren’t quiet. They were too loud, considering the fact that there were Xeus alphas with heightened senses in the house, but Royce didn’t give a shit. Let them hear, he thought with primitive satisfaction. This was his husband coming undone on his cock. His mate. His.

For endless minutes, that was all it was—Royce ploughing him, hard and relentless, grunting with the exertion, and Haydn moaning shamelessly as he clung on, his fat alpha cock caught between them.

Before long, he was losing it, pounding his cock into Haydn’s loosened hole at a dizzying pace, his face buried in his throat. “Mine,” he muttered deliriously, his hands gripping his husband’s plush ass hard. “Say you’re mine. Say it.”

Haydn’s fingernails scratched Royce’s back. “No,” he growled, clenching around him. “You’re mine.”

Growling, Royce sank his teeth into Haydn’s neck, needing to brand him, own him, make him his. He wrapped his hand around Haydn’s weeping cock and stroked it in time with his thrusts until Haydn was sobbing with pleasure and coming into his hand with a loud cry, his knot growing in Royce’s fist.