Unnatural - Alessandra Hazard Page 0,29

morning, so he’d figured it was just a rut thing that wouldn’t happen again, but now Royce was almost making it sound like…

“You mean it arouses you,” Haydn stated in his most neutral voice.

For a moment, there was silence, and Haydn thought Royce would deny it.

But he didn’t.

“That too,” Royce said gruffly, not lifting his face from Haydn’s throat.

Haydn stared at the opposite wall. “It probably makes sense,” he said, haltingly. “It’s still a full moon, or close enough to it. It’s probably still affecting you.”

Royce exhaled. “I didn’t think of it. Maybe my rut isn’t as over as I thought.”

Haydn’s heart was beating so fast he could almost hear it. He swallowed. “You can do it again if you want. Come on me, I mean. I don’t mind.”

Right, said a sarcastic voice at the back of his mind. You don’t mind it so much that it’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past few days.

Royce went rigid against him.

He lifted his head from Haydn’s neck and stared at him, his gaze dark and so intense it triggered a flutter of nerves in Haydn’s chest.

“Are you serious?” Royce said hoarsely. He smelled aroused. He looked aroused.

Haydn shrugged with a rueful smile. “Not exactly something I would joke about. Come on. One-time offer.”

Royce didn’t need convincing. It didn’t take him long to jerk his fly open and pull out his half-hard cock. A few strokes, and it was hard and thick in Royce’s hand, the head glistening with pre-come.

Haydn licked his lips. “My face?” he managed through his parched throat.

Royce’s black eyes flicked to his face and became a little unfocused. But he shook his head. “I want…” He looked down, at Haydn’s chest.

“My chest?” Haydn murmured.

Upon receiving a clipped nod, Haydn brought his hands up and started unbuttoning his gray shirt. He felt terribly conscious of Royce’s gaze on him, of Royce’s hard cock—which smelled fucking divine. Part of him couldn’t believe he really was doing this. It was insane.

When his shirt finally fell open, Royce raked his eyes over the length of his torso, lingering on his thick pecs.

“They look almost like tits,” Royce said, stroking his cock absently.

Haydn flushed. “There’s no need to be jealous,” he said with a chuckle, trying to ignore the weird heat that curled in his lower stomach.

“Touch them,” Royce said, still looking at his pecs.

Feeling overly warm, Haydn did as he was told. He brought his hands up and squeezed his tits—uh, his pecs—and Royce made a low sound and ground his cock against Haydn’s abs, shoving his face against Haydn’s throat again. He bit on his neck, and Haydn jerked, a whine slipping out of his mouth.

He was hard.

He was suddenly painfully aware of it. He was half-sprawled on the couch, with his alpha husband on top of him, grinding his cock against Haydn’s stomach, and he’d never been harder in his life.

“This is turning you on,” Royce muttered, having the nerve to sound surprised.

Haydn laughed a little. “I haven’t gotten laid in months. I’d get hard from the wind blowing the wrong way at this point.” It was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was true nonetheless. He was horny; that was all. This didn’t mean anything. He just wanted to get off, get rid of the maddening tension under his skin. Nothing to do with Royce or his cock.

Royce sucked hard on his neck, grinding his cock against Haydn’s stomach. “I’ve never been so close to an aroused alpha.”

Haydn winced. Why did he have to remind them how wrong this was?

“Let’s just get it over with,” he muttered, jerking his fly open and pulling out his cock.

“Yes,” Royce said, rutting harder against his abs. His cock was now leaking profusely, so it definitely helped the friction. But Haydn’s hand around his own cock kept bumping against Royce’s hip, and it all was very awkward and uncomfortable.

Finally, Royce made a frustrated noise and yanked Haydn’s pants and boxers down, leaving him naked below the waist.

“Don’t freak out,” he grunted, settling between Haydn’s legs and pressing their cocks together.

Haydn didn’t freak out. But he did feel a little weirded out. Now he was fully lying under Royce, with his legs spread like some… some omega eager to get fucked.

The thought brought a twisted surge of arousal, and Haydn let out a confused moan, his mind becoming clouded and slow.

He stared at the ceiling dazedly as Royce ground their hips together, the friction on the edge of uncomfortable but deliciously good.