Chapter 27: A Night to Forget. Pt. 4

’He’s…kissing me?’

Was kissing necessary?

Ezra had never been kissed.

Not like this.

Well…not ever.

The prince’s lips were demanding, his tongue sweeping in to claim the space.

Ezra’s own attempts were clumsy, sloppy—a mess of panting breaths and uncoordinated movements.

He felt lost due to his lack of experience.

Until a large, warm hand settled firmly on the side of his neck, thumb pressing into the pulse point.

Guiding him.

The prince took control of the kiss, deepening it, slowing it, teaching him with lips and tongue.

It was dizzying.

Consuming.

And Ezra melted into it, his world narrowing to the slick heat of the prince’s mouth and the anchoring weight of his hand.

For a few heartbeats, he forgot about the aching emptiness between his legs, lost in the dizzying, possessive kiss.

While Ezra was distracted by the new sensation.

That’s when the prince struck.

Ezra was utterly unprepared for the sudden, brutal slam back into him. The prince sheathed himself to the hilt in one powerful, unyielding thrust.

“Ah—!”

The cry was ripped from Ezra’s lungs—a raw, shattered sound of pure sensation.

It wasn’t just pain, though there was a bright, shocking flash of it at the sudden stretch.

It was a pleasure. A devastating wave of it that crashed over the pain and drowned it out.

The prince was so deep, so impossibly deep, hitting a place inside Ezra that made his vision whiten at the edges.

“Your highness, let me…breathe…please–”

And then he began to move.

No more gentleness.

No more slow preparation.

The prince set a relentless, driving pace, his hips pistoning against Ezra’s ass with a force that shook the bed, that shook Ezra to his core.

The hand on his neck held firm, a dominant anchor in the storm.

Each thrust was a revelation. The friction was exquisite, a searing line of bliss that connected his stretched hole to the very base of his spine.

The prince’s cock rubbed over that deep, secret place inside with every punishing drive, and stars exploded behind Ezra’s eyelids.

“Oh, dear Aurethys, you feel like heaven, Ezra.” The prince growled.

He was moaning, a continuous, broken stream of sound he didn’t recognize as his own.

His own neglected cock, trapped between his belly and the mattress, leaked incessantly, adding a slick, filthy friction to the mix.

He felt… liberated.

The rigid discipline, the years of denial, the iron control he wore like armor—it was all being fucked right out of him.

This was all he was now: a body being used, filled, taken to a precipice he never knew existed.

It was shameful.

It was transcendent.

It was everything his omega heat had been screaming for.

“More,” Ezra sobbed, the word mangled against the pillow. “More, please, I need—!”

“You need what?” the prince growled, his breath hot on Ezra’s neck. His pace didn’t falter, each snap of his hips a jolt of electric pleasure. “Use your words, my little omega.”

Ezra’s mind was liquid. “You. I need… I need you. Harder.”

A guttural sound of approval was his reward. The prince’s thrusts became even more forceful, more precise.

The slap of skin on skin, the creak of the bed, Ezra’s own ragged cries—they built into a symphony of utter debauchery.

Ezra could feel his own slick gushing out around the prince’s thrusting length, soaking them both, the scent of his heat and their sweat thick in the air.

He was close.

A tight, hot coil was winding mercilessly in his gut. His toes curled, his fingers clutching desperately at the rumpled duvet.

The prince seemed to sense it. He leaned over, blanketing Ezra’s back completely, his chest hot and damp against Ezra’s skin. He shifted his angle slightly, and—

“Oh, god!” Ezra screamed.

“Do not call for God.”

The prince was hitting that spot directly now, with unerring accuracy. Pleasure, sharp and blinding, lanced through him.

It was too much. It wasn’t enough.

He was fracturing, coming apart under the prince’s relentless possession.

“Call for your alpha.” the prince rasped, his own control fraying, his movements growing more erratic, more frantic. “For me.”

The command shattered the last of Ezra’s resistance. The coil snapped.

His world dissolved into a white-hot supernova of sensation as his orgasm tore through him.

“A-Agh…Y-Your Highness, Your Highness…” His body clamped down viscously on the prince’s cock, milking it as he spilled himself into the bedding with a choked, endless cry.

The pulses seemed to go on forever, wracking his frame with shudders.

“I’m almost there.”

Through the haze, he felt the prince’s rhythm stutter, then break.

A final, deep, grinding thrust buried him to the root, and a low, ragged groan echoed in Ezra’s ear as the prince found his own release, filling him with a scalding rush of heat that seemed to brand him from the inside out.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their heaving breaths.

The prince’s weight was heavy.

Still buried deep, he nuzzled into the sweaty junction of Ezra’s neck and shoulder.

Ezra lay there, unmoving. His senses are swimming in a fog of satiation and heat.

The prince’s weight was heavy, his softening cock still nestled deep inside, where Ezra’s body held him with a possessive, involuntary clench.

The slick heat of the prince’s release was a tangible presence within him, a claim that soothed the primal omega ache he’d battled all night.

He felt… quiet.

For the first time since the fever took hold, his mind wasn’t screaming. The silence in his head was a benediction.

But his body was a traitor.

Because beneath the fatigue, a low, insistent hum was starting again. His skin, slick with sweat, felt too sensitive where the prince’s chest pressed against his back.

And between his legs… oh, no.

Again?

Despite the mind-shattering orgasm, a faint, needy pulse had begun to throb again in his cock, which twitched against the ruined sheets.

’When will this stop?’ he thought, dazed. ’We just finished.’

He was about to chalk it up to lingering echoes of sensation when the prince shifted.

He didn’t pull out.

“Oh.”

Instead, a low, rumbling groan vibrated against Ezra’s spine.

The arm slung over his waist tightened, pulling him impossibly closer.

And then Ezra smelled it.

A scent, rich and dark and utterly consuming, bloomed in the air around them.

It wasn’t the clean, sharp smell of the prince’s earlier arousal.

This was deeper, more potent, primordial. It smelled of woodsmoke and aged leather, of dominance and pure, unadulterated need.

It curled into Ezra’s lungs, bypassing all thought, and went straight to the base of his skull, to the omega core of him.

’What is this…?’

Ezra’s breath hitched. A hot flush swept from his cheeks down his chest.

He felt a fresh gush of slick leak from his hole around the prince’s still-present length, and he blushed furiously at the body’s shameless, eager response.

Before he could process the embarrassment, the prince moved. He rolled them, his strength effortless.

Ezra gasped as the world tilted, and he found himself on his hands and knees, the prince looming behind him, his cock sliding out only to press insistently back against Ezra’s slick, well-used entrance.

He was hard again. Painfully hard, the thick length branding Ezra’s skin.

“W-What…” Ezra stammered, his voice raw. “Your highness…?”

A large, warm hand smoothed up the tense muscles of his back, coming to rest between his shoulder blades, pressing him down gently until his chest met the mattress, his ass canted high in the air.

The prince leaned over him, his lips brushing the shell of Ezra’s ear. His voice was a rough, delicious scrape of sound.

“It seems,” the prince murmured, his breath hot, “I’ve gone into rut because of you, my little omega.”

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