Unnatural - Alessandra Hazard Page 0,39

felt toe-curlingly right. As if this was what he had been born for: to be on his knees for another alpha—this alpha—and have his cock inside of him.

Haydn grabbed his own neglected cock and stroked it hard and fast, trying to coordinate his strokes with the blowjob he was giving, but it was so difficult. All he could focus was the thick cock moving inside his mouth, Royce’s heady, delicious scent, and those strong hands gripping his hair as Royce started thrusting into his mouth.

Haydn could only take it, his mind clouded from the intoxicating mix of Royce’s aroused scent and alpha pheromones. Lucien’s moans were unintelligible cries of pleasure now, and he seemed to be rapidly approaching his orgasm. The omega started begging for Aksel’s cock, then for Aksel’s knot, and fuck, the mere thought of something as large as a knot—of Royce’s knot inside him—shocked Haydn enough to make him come with a confused moan.

Royce thrust a few more times and went still, his cock throbbing deep inside his mouth, filling Haydn’s throat with his hot come. He swallowed it greedily, the sensation of being full of Royce’s seed sending a weird sort of thrill through him. Feeling that familiar high, Haydn pressed his face against Royce’s muscular thigh, nuzzling into it as he tried to gather his wits. He felt so good. He never wanted to move again. Royce was warm. And he smelled amazing. He kind of wanted to suck Royce’s cock again, wanted more of his come.

“Haydn.” Royce’s hand threaded through his hair. “They left.”

Haydn blinked dazedly. It took him an embarrassing amount of time to understand what he meant. The room outside the closet was quiet.

“Do you think they heard us?” he murmured.

“I doubt they would have noticed anything with all the racket they were making.” Royce gently pushed Haydn away from his crotch and fixed his fly. “Let’s go,” he said, pulling Haydn to his feet.

Haydn followed him out of the closet, still feeling off. That was probably why he failed to feel any embarrassment when he realized that his pants were halfway down his thighs and his junk was hanging out.

Royce shook his head with something like fondness in his eyes and fixed Haydn’s pants for him, after carefully tucking Haydn’s soft cock into his underwear.

Haydn just gazed at him, feeling… he didn’t know what. He felt warm. And kind of giddy. But that must have been just sex. Sex. They’d had sex again. And this time Haydn couldn’t blame it on Royce’s rut in any way—or on his sex deprivation.

“Let’s hope your uncle has already left,” Royce said with a wry smile. “I don’t think he’ll appreciate seeing you like this.”

“Like what?” Haydn said as Royce fixed his shirt for him.

Royce’s expression was very strange. “You look…” His gaze roamed over Haydn’s face, lingering on his lips. “Like you just sucked a cock.”

Haydn felt his face become warm. He cleared his throat, not knowing what to say—not knowing how to act. He also had a growing urge to reach out and touch Royce. Just touch. With his hands or his mouth.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Then let’s hope he’s gone,” Haydn said lightly. “We don’t want him to have a stroke.”

Royce snorted, laying a hand on his shoulder. The touch felt like a brand. “We don’t?”

Haydn grinned at him, and he felt something hot and tingly coil in his stomach when their gazes met. “Hmm, now that you say it…”

Royce laughed, his teeth flashing white against his sun-bronzed skin, his dark eyes warm and intense and—

Fuck, Haydn thought, his stomach sinking.

Fuck, indeed.

Chapter Seventeen

Haydn’s phone might have been turned off, but unfortunately, his father could still send him emails, and Haydn was apparently masochistic enough to read them.

Of course, his father also considered writing emails beneath him, so all of his messages were short and to the point.

I have never been so ashamed to have a son.

Turn on your phone, Haydn.

Don’t force me to come to Kadar and drag you home like an insolent brat.

And Haydn’s absolute favorite,

Your brother must have been rolling in his grave. I’m glad he isn’t alive to see this day. He would have never let a Kadarian make him his bitch.

Haydn was still shaking with anger as he threw his tablet onto the couch. Clenching his hand into a fist, he strode toward the front door. Air. He needed some fresh air to clear his head