Page 10 of His Reward
Lucien shuddered as he caught his breath in deep gasps that were almost painful to listen to. His wrist restraints were still fastened behind him, pulling his shoulders back, otherwise I had the feeling he would have been hugging himself and rocking slightly as the powerful first wave of his heat enveloped him. His slender, omega cock stood up hard from his small balls, and there was a puddle of slick already forming on the floor under him.
Part of me didn’t know how to proceed. I’d played scenes with omegas in heat before and I loved it, but the heat had been part of the deal going into things. Lucien’s heat was a surprise, and you didn’t just take an omega’s heat without discussing a lot of things first. How not to get them pregnant, for example. At the same time, I didn’t want to break the scene when we’d only just started.
I made a decision and stepped back, tucking my still half-hard cock into my trousers, buttoning but not zipping them, then reached down, in character as much as I dared to be, to grab Lucien’s arm and to wrench him to his feet.
“We’ve got things to talk about,” I said, meaning it genuinely, though I delivered the line in my mafia boss persona as I dragged him deeper into the suite’s front room.
“I…I….” Lucien struggled to form whatever thoughts he was having into words. It had to be the heat.
I brought him over to the heavy, leather “sex-chaise”, as I liked to think of it, and pushed him forward over the higher end. He folded perfectly forward, slick-dripping ass raised, head down. Without a word, I undid the clasp holding his wriststogether and gently moved his arms so they were reaching out in front of him. The chaise had all sorts of loops and hooks to fasten things to, so I clipped his wrist restraints to loops farther up that would keep his arms in a Superman pose. Then I moved behind him to attach his ankle restraints to points at the sides of the chaise, spreading him wide.
Once that was done, I moved around to the side of the chaise where he’d turned his head. We could talk this way, but it would maintain the illusion that Lucien was trapped and helpless and about to be used.
“You’ve just gone into heat, haven’t you,” I said in a more normal voice, squatting so my head was closer to his level.
They were subtle things, but I could see Lucien grasped what I was doing and why. “Yeah,” he answered, breathless but out of character. “I knew it was a possibility, but….”
I nodded. “It doesn’t make a difference to me if it doesn’t make a difference to you,” I said. “I can adjust my plans to incorporate your heat.”
“Good,” Lucien panted. “Because I don’t want to stop.”
I smiled at that, and my brain started working on practicalities as fast as possible.
“The room comes equipped with spermicide and condoms,” I said. “I assume you don’t want to get pregnant?”
“No,” Lucien answered firmly.
Good, because I was in no position to become a father just then. Just because this was an organized scene didn’t mean I wouldn’t take full responsibility for a child that came out of it. Fortunately, we could work together to make sure that didn’t happen.
“Any particular heat quirks I should know about?” I asked.
Lucien shook his head slightly. “Only that it makes me even sluttier than usual.”
I would have disapproved of the way he put himself down if there wasn’t a twinkle in his eyes and a hint of a smile on his luscious lips. We were in for an amazing time, I could tell.
“Okay. In that case, do I have permission to take you through this heat?”
He’d already consented to the consensual-non-con auction scenario in writing, but going through heat was an entirely different can of worms.
“Yes, I give you my heat, unreservedly,” Lucien answered.
I grinned. Lucien had hired a service to take him through heats before, I was almost certain of it. The way he gave permission was too formal and standardized to mean anything else.
“Gotcha,” I said, standing.
I took a moment to walk to the other side of the coffee table in front of the sex-chaise and to make a show of examining the toys I’d brought with me. It was partially so I could get back into character and partially so Lucien could see what he was in for and hopefully wriggle with anticipation.
I picked up a narrow, studded paddle that was one of my favorites and turned it over, examining it, then pointing it at Lucien. “Do you know why I paid twenty-one million dollars for you, boy?” I asked, resuming the scene.
Lucien snapped back into character and pulled against his bindings a little. “Please, no. You…you must have me mistaken for someone else.”
“I definitely have the right pretty boy omega,” I said, thumping the paddle against the palm of my hand while walking back to him. “The real question is do you know who I am?”
“No,” Lucien moaned, writhing and almost humping the chaise under him as his heat wave intensified. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know where I am.”
“You’re in what I like to call my ‘breeding den’,” I said, smacking the paddle against my palm again. “And even if you don’t know who I am, your father definitely knows.”
Lucien twitched and caught his breath the way he had the first time I mentioned his father. In the scenario I’d come up with, Lucien’s father was a rival mob boss, and I’d bought his son as a way of getting revenge for a double-cross. But as I moved to stand behind Lucien’s spread legs, watching slick drip down over his balls and form a viscous stream that reached to the floor, I suddenly remembered hearing something about how Lucien’s real-life father was also a figure skating legend and how he was Lucien’s coach.
