Page 43 of Ashley & the A-Listers

He hooked his fingers over the fabric and tugged his underwear and slutty little five-inch inseams off at once. They already had a damp spot.

“I think Ashley liked your shorts today,” River said, searching for the color to his cheeks, a blush—there.

“Did you?” Cameron asked, hips bucking up as River barely ghosted his hand over his hard cock, slick pooling at the tip.

“I think I like them better off,” River murmured, wrapping a hand around him, grip smooth and wet. “You don’t dress up for me,” River reminded him. “You dress down.”

It was a dig, a little mean, but Cam’s annoyed whine melted into a moan as River stroked him. As punishment, Cam dug his nails into River’s arm, but it felt more like a reward.

A mark of any kind from this omega, he’d wear proudly.

Cam bucked up into his fist, one hand dropping to clutch at the blankets, the other falling from River’s arm to his waist, tugging at his linen pants.

He grinned, releasing Cam’s cock and reveling in the disappointed groan before stripping his own clothes off. Cam tore his tank off, and snagged River’s shirt to bury in the pillows.

River’s chest rattled and he figured if he was an alpha, he might have purred.

He scooped Cam up and took him to the center of the nest, placing him gently down into the cloud-soft depression in the floor.

The afternoon light streaked through the blinds, casting yellow lines across them.

Cam’s skin downright glowed in it, and River filed the vision away to have as his forever.

If he was an alpha, he’d mark this omega as his own, with teeth and blood and bond, and then there’d never be a question as to who he belonged to, and who River belonged to in return.

But River was a beta. Such was life.

“Mine,” River found himself saying, following Cam down and pressing close, as if they could become one through osmosis.

“Like the idea of that,” Cam said, sighing wistfully into a slow and sweet kiss.

River liked the idea of it, too, and soothed his hands possessively down Cam’s chest, thumbing his nipples. He arched into the touch, muscles alight and cock slotting alongside River’s own to grind lazily.

Cam spilled fresh slick into his palm when River’s fist circled him again, and he broke the kiss to follow the same path his hands had, mouth watering at the heightened scent of him.

He traded his hand for his lips, Cam’s taste bursting across his tongue as he trailed slick fingers to his hole.

Cam whined, knees spreading further, curling his hips to give River easier access.

It nudged the head of him against River’s lips, and he grinned once, sharply, before swallowing him down again.

“Christ!” Cam yelped, hips bucking. River held him down with one hand on his hip, Cam’s knees squeezing on either side of his ribs.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” River told him.

His fingers spread the slick and pressed, teasing, until Cam welcomed at first only a knuckle.

River loosened his lips around Cam and let the arousal spill down his body, coating his hand and fingers, working Cam open.

Cam’s fingers twisted in his hair, tugging while he panted, hips trying to buck up into him, to chase his finger, take it deeper.

River let him have the second, an easy glide, coated in his own slick. Cam was squeezing tight, a vise around his fingers, and River hummed around the head of his cock, earning a moan.

“River,” Cam moaned, dragging out his name. “Please, come on.”

River loved the sound of his name on Cam’s lips, and aimed to make up for the past weeks he hadn’t been able to hear it.

“Just one more,” River said, voice rough, and began working the tip of his third finger at Cam’s entrance.

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