Myrick lets out a strangled noise when I palm his ass, squeezing hard. My balls draw up, and heat flashes up the back of my legs. I can hear Brock walking through the house, but I refuse to pull out until I’ve come.
All my senses drill down, blocking out the sound of footsteps down the hall, zeroing in on my perfect mate pinned beneath me.
Myrick sucks in a painful breath as hot cum spurts from his cock. It coats the back of my hand, dripping all over my fingers. I thrust into him two more times, then pleasure explodes. My orgasm slams into me, and my vision blurs for a moment. I slowly pull my arm out from under him, then guide my beta forward, letting him rest on the bed. I’m still trying to catch my breath when the bedroom door flingsopen. My brother curses under his breath before immediately slamming it shut.
“Oh my god!” Myrick buries his face in the comforter, cheeks burning.
I chuckle low, the sound rough with amusement. “Serves him right for not knocking.” I slowly pull my cock out of Myrick’s ass, admiring the thick white fluid trickling out of him.
Leaning over, I grab one of my pocket squares out of the duffle bag. I bunch up the silky blue fabric, then push it inside my mate’s abused hole, plugging him up. “This will keep my cum where it belongs.”
Myrick nods, his chest still rising and falling. He’s used to me plugging him up after I’ve filled him.
It’s definitely a kink of mine.
It’s going to be torture to be away from him.
“Rhett?” Brock knocks on the bedroom door. “You two done?”
“It’s polite to knock before barging into someone’s house,” I say as I tuck my cock back into my dress pants. I’m still hard, and could probably come again, but I have a flight to catch.
The door cracks open, and Myrick quickly pulls his shirt on. The black fabric grows wet against his stomach, soaking up the cum smeared there. It takes everything in me not to suck it dry.
“Hey, Brock.” Myrick jerks his pants up, avoiding Brock’s gaze like the plague as he rushes to the bathroom.
“Remember what I said,” I call after my beta, voice low and steady. He stops, looks back at me, cheeks flushing bright red. “No cleaning up.”
“I know,” he mumbles, ducking inside.
I glance at Brock, who’s still standing awkwardly by thedoor. “You’re late. Said you’d be here by nine.” My phone reads half past ten.
“Yeah. Sorry.” He pushes his hands into his pockets, avoiding my eyes. “Had a thing.”
I let out a slow, tense breath. No point in pushing. This is who he is. “You look decent.” I don’t say he doesn’t look strung out because there’s no need to be crass. “How are things?” I ask, but I’m really waiting for him to get to the point. He only comes to see me when he wants something—money or a place to crash for a few nights. But it’s been a while. About nine months. Maybe even longer.
Brock shifts, scanning the room like he hasn’t been here in ages. “You went totally gray,” he says, eyes going wide. I don’t know why he’s surprised. I was already going gray the last time we saw each other. That’s what happens when you’re forced to take over the family business all by yourself.
“He’s a silver fox!” Myrick’s voice echoes from the bathroom, making me smirk.
“You didn’t say what you needed on the phone.” I unzip my duffle bag, making sure everything’s packed.
“Yeah.” Brock leans against the dresser, eyes drifting to the flier on the nightstand. He picks it up. “Rhett...Wow. So, you’re really getting a black market omega?”
I nod, regretting I told him. It’s not that I don’t trust him with the secret, but I don’t like having to defend myself. I was feeling vulnerable when he called.
So stupid.
“This is a big decision,” Brock says, voice tight. He’s stiff, like something’s wrong.
“What’s going on?” I ask, eyeing his tense jaw and rigid posture. “You in trouble again?”
He opens his mouth, but Dolly pushes up onto her hindlegs, pawing at his shins. “Get down.” He kicks out, making Dolly scurry under the bed.
I frown at my brother, annoyed. While I’m not a fan of the damn dog, I’m also not a monster. He’s a tiny, eight-pound pile of fur. A few pats to the head wouldn’t kill Brock.
“Have you thought this through?” Brock plops down in the sitting chair in the corner of the room. He spreads his legs wide, rubbing the tops of his thighs. “Getting an omega from the black market is risky. You can’t return her if it doesn’t work out.” His gaze locks on mine, and I stiffen.
“Why would I return her?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
