Page 232 of Unhinged Omega

I drag his remaining clothes off, my own following in quick succession. His body is a revelation beneath mine, lean muscle and golden skin. I've seen him undressed before—it's impossible not to when you live in each other's pockets in a war zone—but never like this. Never splayed out beneath me, flushed with want, cock hard and leaking against his toned stomach.

My hand wraps around him, thumb sliding through the generous slick pooling at the tip, and he makes a sound that nearly undoes me on the spot. His hips buck up into my grip, seeking more friction, more pressure, moreeverything.

"Please," he gasps, the word punching through me. "Nikolai, please, I need?—"

I capture his mouth again, swallowing his pleas as I work him with steady, firm strokes. He's leaking more than any alpha I've ever seen, almost like an omega in heat, or at least the male version, and I realize this is part of what they did to him. Part of how they broke him. But it's useful now, letting me slick my fingers before reaching between his legs.

The first press of my finger inside him makes him jerk, a broken cry escaping his lips. I freeze, afraid I've hurt him, but he grabs my wrist, pressing my hand closer.

"Don't stop," he begs, eyes wild. "Don't you fucking dare stop now."

So I don't. I work him open carefully, one finger becoming two, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. But there's only pleasure there, his head thrown back, lips parted, a continuous stream of soft sounds escaping him with each thrust of my fingers.

I curl them, searching, and when I find what I'm looking for, his entire body goes taut as a wire. A strangled cry tears from his throat, his cock pulsing in my grip as I milk him through his release, fucking him with my fingers until he's trembling, oversensitive, yet still somehow begging for more.

"Niko, please," he whimpers, using a nickname I haven't heard from him in months, come to think of it. "Need you. Inside.Please."

Those words cut through the haze of lust enough for me to remember. He's not an omega. He can't take a knot. I'm not evensure if he can take my cock, not without proper preparation. Not without?—

"Fuck," I snarl, looking around frantically. "Need lube."

Raven makes a sound of frustration, trying to pull me back. "Don't care, just?—"

"I'm not fucking hurting you," I snap, my voice harsh with the effort of maintaining control. I reach for my discarded coat on the floor, searching the pockets. Thank fuck I actually have a condom in one of the inside pockets, one of the lubricated ones.

"That fucking coat," Raven mutters, and I can hear the eye roll in his voice even as his hands keep trying to pull me back to him.

"Shut up," I growl, tearing the foil packet open with my teeth and rolling it on. The lube isn't ideal, but it's better than nothing. I flip him over onto his hands and knees, ignoring his whimper of protest at the delay. "This angle will be easier. Trust me."

He goes quiet at that, the fight draining out of him as he settles into position. His hair spills across the dark sheets like golden silk, and I take a moment to just look at him. I should need to picture an omega right now. Afemaleomega. It would be easy enough from this angle, with all that golden hair.

But I don't need to.

I don'twantto.

I want Raven. Even if I know everything I've fought so hard to build is going to come crashing down after I let myself have him.

I line myself up, one hand gripping his hip, the other guiding my cock. The first push is met with resistance, his body tensing despite his best efforts.

"Breathe," I murmur, leaning over to press my lips to his shoulder blade. "Just breathe, little bird."

The old nickname slips out before I can stop it. His whole body shudders in response, but he relaxes enough that I canpress forward, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until I'm fully seated inside him up to the edge of my knot.

"Fuck," I groan, my forehead dropping to rest between his shoulder blades. "Raven..."

"Move," he gasps, pushing back against me. "Please."

So I do. I start slow, careful, but it doesn't take long for his desperate pleas to drive me faster, harder. My fingers dig into his hips hard enough to bruise as I fuck into him with increasingly reckless abandon. His moans drive me wild, each sound like a direct line to my cock, making me harder, more desperate.

I'm already going to hell for this. For taking the one good, decent, innocent thing I've ever done and twisting it into something else.

Might as well go all the way.

I straighten, gripping both his hips now, and withdraw almost completely before driving back in with a force that makes the bed frame creak in protest. Raven's fingers twist in the sheets, knuckles white, a string of curses and pleas falling from his lips as I set a ruthless pace.

I watch, mesmerized, as my cock disappears into him again and again, the sight making my blood burn hotter. His thighs tremble with the effort of holding himself up, and I run my hands down to feel the quivering muscles, marveling at the strength it must take to endure this without collapsing.

He moans desperately, the sound vibrating through his entire body. I feel it where we're connected, that pulse of pleasure traveling up my spine like lightning. I drag my nails up his sides, leaving faint red lines in their wake, and he arches further, pressing back into each thrust with desperate need.

---