Page 34 of Devil May Hunt
Brennon had to be mishearing him. “What the hell did you do to me?” He tried to think back on that day at the alpha’s house. “Was it the shot from the doctor, or the drink?”
“Both.” Gunho started forward once more, emitting a low, rumbly sound from the center of his chest when Brennon noticeably grew anxious. “The shot held the drug to begin alterations; the contents of the drink contained my specific genetic material to ensure your body would recognize me as its alpha.”
“…Alterations?” Brennon shoved the chair away, banging against the shelf behind him. It only managed to put an extra two feet between them when Gunho stepped up to the other side and leaned over the desk.
The nearness brought with it a waft of something spicy, and Brennon sniffed at the air before he could help it.
Like a damn dog.
He growled and gripped the armrests tightly, hating the smug look on the other man’s face as he watched his reaction play out.
“Whatever you did, undo it,” he demanded.
“I can’t.” He held his gaze steadily. “You asked for this when you refused to accept me. We could have done this the easy way, mate, but you chose to resist. Don’t misunderstand.” He straightened, hands dropping to the top of his pants. “My predatory instincts get off on your fight, but we don’t have an infinite amount of time to waste. We’ll complete the bond.”
He slipped the button free and then pulled his zipper down, exposing the fact he wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath when his large cock sprang free. He was swollen and bright red, his flushed crown glistening in the sunlight pooling in from the large floor-to-ceiling window to the left.
They were high enough, only a hovercar deviating from one of the sky lanes would get close enough to see in, and that was if the windows weren’t treated one-way glass. Brennon couldn’t recall.
“Put that away!” he hissed, tipping his head back to stare sightless at the ceiling. “This is my mother’s office!”
“This is my office,” Gunho corrected. “And this will hardly be the first time I fuck you in it. We’ll mate often from here on out. Your new altered biology will demand it.”
Brennon’s dick twitched and grew even larger, pressing uncomfortably against the seam of his pants. He dug his nails against the plastic armrests, but no matter how hard he willed himself to calm down, he couldn’t shake the rush of arousal pulsating through his entire being.
It was like being yanked from a deep sleep, discombobulating and somewhat frightening. He didn’t understand what was going on, couldn’t recognize his own body or the reactions he was undergoing.
The alpha must be telling the truth about drugging him, but…
“Permanent alterations to one’s anatomy is illegal without written and verbal consent,” Brennon spouted, regurgitating a paragraph he’d read from a textbook. “I’ll report you to the I.P.F.”
“Mating claims made by any being signifying a second sex alpha or omega will be dismissed from regulations F3-K7,” Gunho replied breezily. “That’s E98, in case you don’t recall.”
He didn’t, because Brennon had only just started learning about overarching Intergalactic laws set by the Intergalactic Conference.
“You’re lying.” Why would they excuse an entire species from rights laws?
“Many of my kind are dying off. Planets that house us, such as Synastry, suffer from low birth rates. Because of this, the I.P.F. was petitioned for lax rulings. It was approved.”
Brennon felt another surge of fear and gave in, meeting Gunho’s piercing gaze again. It was a mistake, because he was flooded with lust, an intoxicating wave of it shooting pings of fire straight to his groin that had him gushing and staining his pants.
From both sides.
He froze, realizing he was wet in…other places, and not just the tip of his dick.
“You’re leaking slick,” Gunho groaned, sniffing the air between them. “I can see why other alphas go crazy from the smell of it.”
“Other alphas?”
“I’ve never been able to scent omega slick before either,” Gunho divulged. “My only experiences have been with scented lubes. They didn’t smell as divine as this though. As you. It’s like candied hawthorns and honey. Add that to your cherry bourbon smell and…I could eat you.”
Heats and now slick…
“I’m not an omega,” he whispered, fear palpable, enough so to cut through some of the arousal.
“Correction, you weren’t born an omega, but you are one now.” Gunho’s expression turned possessive. “Myomega.”
“No.” He shook his head vehemently, but the alpha shushed him.
