stumbled forward, intent only on getting him as far away as possible from the scum thrashing on the floor.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he mumbled, trying to keep his fury contained.
Micah’s body arched in his arms, and another piercing cry of pain stabbed into Travis’s heart. He pushed Micah against the wall in the hall, having barely made it around the corner from the bound body in his living room, and he ripped his jeans open. Within seconds, he was buried inside Micah. Except he felt no pleasure. Micah’s pain became his, and he gasped and shook, clutching Micah to him, rage and fear and loss battling in his brain. The scent of Micah’s cum reached his nostrils, and he gulped it in, expecting it to soothe him. It didn’t.
Travis had failed to protect Micah. Besides, Micah had never been his to protect to begin with. An ugly voice in his head, the primitive alpha he abhorred, urged him to grab tighter, fuck harder. You should’ve killed him. You should’ve killed the bastard. You should’ve bred Micah in front of him and then killed him.
Micah’s fingers scratched his nape. Oh god, he’d failed. No revenge would ever erase his guilt. He’d almost lost Micah. And he could still lose him. He’d never felt fear as crippling as this.
Please, don’t ever leave me. I’m so sorry. I love you, Micah. Please, forgive me. I love you.
“Travis!”
Was he saying something out loud?
Micah’s voice cut through his swirling thoughts and silenced his mutterings. He lifted his head, and Micah’s eyes waited for him, clear and kind, beautiful. Loving.
“He didn’t touch me. I’m okay. I’m not hurt.”
“Micah, love…”
“Travis, we’re okay. It’s over. We’re okay.”
I can’t lose him. I wouldn’t survive losing him. “I heard you scream. I thought… Micah… I…”
“He didn’t hurt me.”
He’s safe. Snap out of it. Micah’s safe. Feel him. Just look at him.
“Fuck me and listen to me now.” He’s stunning. So strong and fierce. “Watch my face when you make me come.”
It was the kiss that finally released Travis from the trap of his mind. Tasting Micah on his tongue, he could breathe freely. He turned around and slid down the wall. Micah sat in his lap, Travis’s cock sheathed inside him to the hilt.
“Watch me,” he repeated and then moved.
His beauty obliterated any ugly images from the past hour that might have lingered in Travis’s head. Micah’s features went slack with pleasure, his swollen lips parted, and he leaned back, bracing his hands on the floor by Travis’s knees. Travis gasped when Micah thrust down and impaled himself. Travis’s cockhead breached the mouth of Micah’s womb, and Micah arched as his cock sprayed cum all over Travis’s T-shirt. He kept rocking, fucking himself on Travis’s cock, his insides spasming and his erection jolting in the air. Travis caught it in his hand and caressed it gently, not jerking Micah off. He simply held the cock in his palm, feeling the breeding orgasm ripple through it while he stared at Micah’s breathtaking face.
He came like that, still afraid but also relieved. Micah almost vibrated in his embrace when Travis’s knot swelled inside him, and Travis’s cum filled his womb. Shivering with pleasure, Travis held him tight until the aftershocks abated. Micah only wiggled once and gasped when Travis’s cockhead popped out of the soft pouch of his womb. Then he slumped with exhaustion, and his breaths evened out within a minute.
Pressing openmouthed kisses down the side of Micah’s face and neck, Travis tried to ground himself. He focused on where they touched, Micah’s belly and chest, his hands limp on Travis’s shoulders, his snug, wet hole around Travis’s knot. On a soft moan, Travis pushed up, his cockhead kissing the mouth of Micah’s womb, and Micah whined softly in his sleep as his insides fluttered once more. His heartbeat. Find his heartbeat.
For a few minutes, he just sat there, trying to ignore the puffing and grunting noises Peter kept making from around the corner. Instead, he strained to feel Micah’s heartbeat against his chest and followed it as it slowed and calmed.
When he felt like he could act moderately rational again, he scrambled up. His phone. He needed his phone. Carrying Micah back to the living room was the last thing he wanted to do, but he had to. Peter lay where he’d left him, in the center of the room, curled on the floor, his back to them, except now he was whimpering. He growled and thrashed, no