Page 56 of Hell's Secret Omega

He disappears again.

Mezor hesitates. Does he know what he’s asking? A vergis doesn’t allow just any primus into his nest. Only his mate.

Cyrus huffs impatiently and the furs rustle again. Mezor gives in to temptation and peers inside. Cyrus has moved the furs to one side and nestled there, leaving a large empty space. He looks like a princeling lounging in the richness of his palace, with gleaming vines peeking in from under the tapestries to lend him an ethereal glow. His nipples are soft and lush, like velvety charcoal, and his horns and claws gleam in the gentle light as if polished.

The nest smells faintly of him already—bright and sweet. A hint of slick teases Mezor’s nose. The furs piled around him hide his state of arousal coyly, but the scent and the dark flush across his chest leave no doubt.

Cyrus strokes the empty spot next to him.

Mezor shakes his head. “The nest is yours only. It’s a safe place for you.”

Hewantsto enter. Very much. But his instinct is firm. Nests are for mates.

Cyrus’s eyes glow like stars. “But I feel safest when you’re here.”

Mezor growls. Before he can think better of it, he’s pushing into the nest and pressing Cyrus into the furs. Cyrus’s gaze is triumphant, his scent bursting with need.

“I made it foryou.” Mezor pins him to the bed with a chuckle.

“I can invite you in.” Cyrus squirms underneath him. “I read about it in my book. You’re allowed to enter a vergis’s nest when he wants to be comforted.”

“Comforted, hmm?” Mezor presses his nose to Cyrus’s scent gland, then draws it down, down, down. Pulling aside the furs reveals his eagerly twitching cock, but he bypasses it and rubs his nose along the potent crease of Cyrus’s groin instead.

“By your scent,” Cyrus says, claws pricking his scalp.

“And do you need comforting? I rubbed my scent all over everything in here.”

“I need the other thing.” Cyrus tugs him up. He’s suddenly flushed. “Your seed. It smells different.”

Ah. Hunger is already rising in him, but instead of arousal, the words trigger a sharp burst of understanding. His seed is evidence of his desire and need for Cyrus. Since they’re not mated, Cyrus has no other reassurance that would satisfy his vergis. Without desire, what keeps him close to Cyrus besides the imperative of the bond?

His heart twinges guiltily. Cyrus can’t know that the depths of his affection are already seeded far deeper than the bond.

He reaches for his rigid length and brings it to rest on Cyrus’s hip. It’s heavy with blood, potent. His balls ache. He rocks back and forth, letting the tip slowly expose itself. Cyrus’s eyes darken and his hands disappear between them.

Mezor feels the gentle brush of his knuckles before he realizes what Cyrus is doing. Hands clasp around him, squeezing his cock against a stiff, throbbing friend. Cyrus’s cock is larger than the average vergis’s—thick as three of Mezor’s fingers together—but still nowhere near the size of Mezor. The feeling of his arousal pressing into Mezor makes his blood rise. He thrusts into the circle of Cyrus’s fingers. Together, they barely fit in Cyrus’s hands.

“You want my seed all over you?” he murmurs. “Covering you with my scent? Making you mine?”

Cyrus whines and tips his head back. “Mark me,” he begs. “Bite me. Then spill on me. Before you leave again.”

Mezor groans. “A bite would be deep.”

“I can take it.”

He lets his fangs graze Cyrus’s ear, his neck. Saliva gathers on his tongue in anticipation. He hasn’t knotted Cyrus—hasn’t made that last claim—but a bite would be one step closer. A tiny piece of him recognized it’s a terrible idea. The rest of him sunk deep into a primal space the instant Cyrus invited him in. His mind swims with the desire to fulfil Cyrus’s potent needs.

“I want you inside when you do it,” Cyrus gasps.

“Then I can’t cover you with seed.” Mezor struggles to think clearly. His brain saysyes, inside. Knot him and bite him and make him mine.“I have to scent the nest.”

Cyrus squirms. “But I’m a good vergis. I deserve your cock.”

Fuck.“You do. You’re so good.”

He draws back.I can do both. His cock finds Cyrus’s entrance with unerring aim, as if drawn there. It’s wet with slick, accepting him in easily. Cyrus twists, exposing the long, slim column of his neck. His scent gland is a barely raised patch just under his jaw, hardly visible but utterly potent. Mezor bites and thrusts at the same time. Cyrus convulses with a cry.

He grips Cyrus tightly, careful not to tear the flesh. Bitter ichor floods his mouth. Cyrus’s pulse is powerful against his tongue. He writhes on Mezor’s cock and the scent of his come bursts into the air as he reaches his peak. The bond swells between them. Mezor pumps into him a spare handful of times and releases him with a roar, pulling out as his cock starts to spray. His balls convulse, sending his seed shooting across Cyrus’s face screwed up in ecstasy.

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