The hood of the car creaks and groans beneath us with every thrust, the suspension rocking, the whole vehicle shifting on its tires as Hongjoong drives into me with a force that’s fueledby two hours of pent-up adrenaline and whatever primal thing winning does to an alpha’s brain. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes off the garage walls alongside my moans, which I’ve given up trying to muffle. There’s no one to hear us and Hongjoong’s cock is hitting my prostate on every stroke with a relentlessness that makes coherent thought impossible. My cock, still sensitive from the orgasm, twitches and fills again between our bodies, leaking against my stomach as Hongjoong pounds into me.
I come again with a strangled sound, my cock jerking weakly, barely anything left to spill, my hole clamping down around Hongjoong in rhythmic spasms that make him snarl through his teeth. His thrusts go erratic, hips stuttering, and then I feel his knot start to swell at the base, expanding with each thrust, catching against my rim and forcing it wider until it locks inside me with a stretch that makes me gasp and clench around him involuntarily. Hongjoong buries himself as deep as he can go and comes with a groan that reverberates through his chest and into mine, his cock pulsing in hot waves, filling me until I feel achingly full and stretched tight around the massive knot.
He braces himself over me on the hood, both arms shaking slightly, both of us panting hard, and then he leans down and kisses me. Slow this time, deep and unhurried, his tongue sliding against mine with a tenderness that doesn’t match the brutality of the last ten minutes. I can taste myself on his mouth, the salt of my cum mixed with sweat and Hongjoong. He pulls back just enough to murmur against my lips, his breath warm on my skin, “Fuck, that’s better than any trophy or victory lap.”
I should say something cutting. Something that puts distance between us, that reminds both of us what this is. Instead my fingers curl into the front of his unzipped racing suit, gripping the stiff fabric, and I pull him back down. “You’re a crazy bastard,” I say against his mouth, and then I kiss him again, the warmth that blooms fierce and undeniable in my chest issomething I don’t have the strength to fight right now, locked together on the hood of a car, Hongjoong’s heart hammering against mine through the thin layer of his undershirt, his knot still buried deep inside me.
Chapter Nine
It’s late. Hours past the race, hours past the garage, and I’m lying face down in Hongjoong’s sheets with absolutely nothing left in me. Every muscle feels wrung out like a dishrag, my limbs heavy and useless against the mattress, my face half-buried in a pillow that smells overwhelmingly like him. Hongjoong apparently did not work off all that post-race adrenaline in the garage because after we finally unknotted and peeled ourselves off the hood of that car, he dragged me back to his apartment and fucked me against the front door before I even got my shoes off. Then on the living room floor while Alto and Rennard watched from their beds with the supremely unbothered expressions that only borzois can manage, like two aristocrats observing something beneath their notice. And then finally in bed, where we’ve been for the last hour and where I’ve come so many times my cock has given up trying.
I groan into the pillow when I feel Hongjoong’s hands on my thighs, pushing my legs apart from behind. His palms are warmand his grip is firm and I don’t have the energy to resist, just let him spread me open. I wince when both his hands close on my cheeks and pull them apart, exposing my hole to the cool air of the bedroom, and I can feel how swollen and puffy my rim is, can feel the thick gush of cum that slides out of me the moment he spreads me, a warm white rivulet trailing down my taint and dripping onto the sheets beneath me.
Hongjoong makes a low humming sound behind me, particularly pleased. His fingers swirl through the mess between my cheeks, tracing my distended rim in slow circles, smearing cum and slick together around the swollen edges of my hole. Then he scoops up the globs of cum that are leaking out of me with two fingers and pushes them back inside. I hiss through my teeth and whine as his fingers sink into my abused hole, working deep, plugging me back up and pressing the cum further in with targeted strokes that make my walls clench and flutter around him.
I squirm at the overstimulation, my insides too sensitive and too sore for this, and I look back at him over my shoulder. “What are you trying to do?”
Hongjoong’s eyes are fixed on where his fingers disappear inside me, his expression focused and openly fascinated. “Making sure you don’t waste a drop,” he says casually, pushing another thick glob of cum back into my hole with his thumb. “I want to see this pretty hole filled to the brim.” He meets my eyes and grins, sharp and cat-like grin with the dimple cutting into his left cheek. “I’m going to stuff you so full of it you get pregnant.”
My stomach twists hard. The words dig in deep and painfully even though I know he’s joking, even though his tone is light and teasing. The irony of it is so vicious it cuts. I look away from him, resting my chin on my folded forearms, staring at the headboard as the knot in my gut tightens.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, keeping my voice flat. “I’m on birth control anyway.”
Hongjoong hums again, unbothered. I jump when his mouth closes on the flesh of my ass cheek, his lips sealing against the skin and sucking hard enough that I feel the blood rush to the surface. I reach back blindly to smack at him but he ducks my hand and keeps going, biting and sucking at both cheeks in turn, leaving marks that sting and bloom warm under his teeth. He sinks his teeth in hard enough to make me grunt and then soothes the spot with his tongue, wet and hot, before moving to the next patch of unmarked skin. By the time he’s done both my cheeks are going to be covered in bruises and bite marks and I’m going to look like I lost a fight with a rabid animal.
Hongjoong groans and presses his forehead against the small of my back, his breath fanning warm across my skin. “Fuck,” he says, his voice muffled against my spine. “Your body is addictive. We should’ve done this a long time ago.”
I freeze.
The words simmer in the air between us for a moment, casual on his end, devastating on mine. I push myself up slightly, twisting to look back at him with a frown pulling at my mouth. “What do you mean?”
Hongjoong props himself up on one elbow, still idly tracing patterns on my lower back with his fingertips, his touch light and absent. “Just that,” he says easily. “It’s so much better than I ever thought it would be.”
I stare at him. The words rearrange themselves in my head once, twice, and then the implication sinks in and I sit up further, turning my body toward him, my frown deepening into a feeling closer to shock. “Do you mean to tell me you thought about this before?” I ask slowly. “About fucking me?”
Hongjoong cracks a grin. “Now who’s being crude?” He squeezes my ass with one hand, his palm warm over the markshe just left, and then his grin softens, becoming more honest. “Yeah,” he admits. “I did.”
He looks up and meets my eyes, his expression open, an unguarded look that I don’t think I’ve ever seen on Hongjoong’s face before, not even when we were teenagers and he wore every emotion on his sleeve like a badge. He holds my gaze steadily and says, “When I realized it was you that first night at the hotel, I thought for sure it was fate. That this was my chance.” He pauses, his thumb rubbing a slow circle against my hip. “That’s why I didn’t hesitate. I’ve wanted you ever since we were teenagers, Jae.”
I stare at him. My brain stalls out completely, turning over and over without catching. The words echo in my head, and I can’t make them fit into the shape of reality as I’ve understood it for the last fifteen years.
“You did?”
Hongjoong nods, watching me.
I sit up all the way, turning to face him fully, the sheets pooling around my waist. My body aches in a dozen places and I’m still leaking his cum onto the mattress beneath me but none of that matters because my mind is spinning too fast. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I ask. I can hear the bewilderment in my own voice, the edge of almost hurt underneath it. “You never did a single thing to indicate you were interested. Not once.”
Hongjoong shrugs against the pillow, one shoulder lifting and dropping. “Because I was young and dumb.”
I shake my head, still reeling. The words come out before I can think better of them. “I wish you had said something.” I swallow. “Because I wanted you, too.”
Hongjoong’s eyes widen. He pushes up onto his elbow, his body going taut with surprise, and he searches my face like he’s checking for a lie. “You did?”
I nod.
He sits up fully now, mirroring me, and turns it around on me immediately. “Then why didn’tyousay anything?”
I sigh and rub my face with both hands, pressing my palms against my eyes for a moment before dropping them. “Because I always thought I wasn’t your type,” I say. The old bitterness is still there, faded but present, like a bruise that never fully healed. “You liked stereotypical omegas. Small and feminine and delicate. You dated them constantly.” I look at him and my chest feels too tight. “And you always used to tell me you didn’t see me that way. You’d say I wasn’t like an omega to you at all, that I was more like one of your alpha friends.” I pause, chewing on my thoughts. “That’s the words you used, Hongjoong. I took them at face value.”
