The Alpha in him was dying.
Not quickly. Not mercifully. But in slow, exquisite denial — stripped layer by layer until nothing remained but the trembling omega’s possession on his knees.
I kept him exactly there as midday light blazed through the high windows, turning the treatment room into a crucible of gold and shadow. The neutral sensitizer thrummed through his veins in perfect precision. His thighs shook violently. Sweat carved glistening rivers down the hard contours of his chest and abdomen. His c**k hung heavy and flushed between his spread thighs, the head swollen and glistening, leaking in thick, rhythmic drops that fell onto the sheets with soft, obscene sounds.
I straddled his lap and sank down onto his throbbing length in one slow, claiming glide until he filled me complete
