Chapter Text
Down in the kitchen, Vegas checked on dinner. They could eat later, so he set the minestrone he’d been working on to simmer while Macau napped. He briefly lifted the lid of the pot and turned the oven on low to heat the bread back up a little.
Brushing off his hands, he sighed and turned to Pete. “Well, dinner’s ready.”
Across the way, Pete hopped up onto the dining room table with a wide grin spread across his lips. “How do you want it served? Hot?” he asked.
Uncrossing and crossing his legs like he was starring in Basic Instinct, Pete leaned back in a seductive pose. His oversized t-shirt hung off his slim form in a way that shouldn’t have been sexy and yet somehow Vegas couldn’t contain a growl.
He shook his head. Pete’s little puns were really getting to be too much. “I should punish you for sitting your bare ass on the dining table,” he said as he approached the table.
Pete’s smile only grew. “Go ahead. Spank me. I deserve it.”
Vegas huffed. He knew what Pete wanted. His Omega had gotten off when Macau fucked him, sure, but Vegas knew he wasn’t fully satisfied with a sweet vanilla fuck. He needed a firm hand.
Without warning Vegas reached out and yanked Pete off the table. With a hand on the back of his neck, Vegas slammed him down face first.
Pete hit the table with a hard thud, his chest slamming onto the solid surface. Thankfully, he got his hands under him and Vegas’ grip on his neck was keeping his face bare millimetres off the hard wood tabletop. Before Pete had a chance to recover from the shock of being shoved over, a resounding smack sounded through the air.
“Ah! Vegas!” Pete glared at him over one shoulder.
“I wasn’t joking,” Vegas murmured into his ear before landing another hard smack on Pete’s bare ass. “Just two and your ass is already so red. I’ve not punished you like this in a while, have I?”
Pete’s body trembled beneath him, thighs shaking as if his legs could give out at any moment. Vegas’ grip on his neck moved up as he carded his fingers into Pete’s hair and pushed his face down onto the table. Pete’s soft cheeks pressed into the hard surface, his panting breaths leaving moisture on the polished wood as Vegas spanked the air out of his lungs.
Vegas gave him a firm hand, just how he knew Pete liked it. He slapped his Omega’s ass harder, again, loving the way his plump flesh jiggled and glowed. Vegas would enjoy watching him squint every time he went to sit down for the next week. He was sure to leave bruises.
On his next smack, Vegas let his hand rest over Pete’s cheeks. He massaged his Omega’s heated flesh before dipping his fingers between his legs and down to feel where his cock was hard and leaking. He trailed the pads of his fingers up its twitching length and into the slick crevasse of Pete’s ass.
“You’re so wet from this,” Vegas leaned over to whisper in Pete’s ear. His hand came down over his Omega’s slick hole, smacking it, earning a sharp cry. “Or is that just my brother’s rut dripping out of you?”
The blush that heated Pete’s skin was instantly visible in the shells of his ears and all the way down to his shoulders.
“Vegas,” he intoned breathlessly. “You’re playing dirty.”
“It’d be so boring if I didn’t, wouldn’t it?” Vegas promptly smacked Pete’s ass again without waiting for a response.
He moved two steps back, admiring his work. Pete was absolutely wrecked, laying across the table with his once pale ass so beautifully marred by Vegas’ hand. Between his legs a glossy mix of his own slick and Macau’s come slowly trickled down his thighs. His t-shirt clung to his back, sweat soaking through it as he panted for breath.
Absolutely wrecked.
“Stand up, pet,” Vegas ordered.
Pete struggled, his legs wobbling beneath him, but he didn’t hesitate to push himself up off the table.
“Yes, like that. Now, turn and sit back up on the table.”
Again, Pete did as he was told. He turned to face Vegas, pausing only for a moment to stare at his Alpha with a lust hooded gaze. Slowly he lifted himself back up onto the edge of the table.
With an affirmative hum, Vegas approached once more. “Lean back and spread your legs for me,” he whispered. As Pete once again followed his instruction perfectly, Vegas wrapped his hands over his Omega’s open thighs.
“Good boy,” he breathed before capturing Pete’s lips in a kiss.
Pete’s eyes rolled back as soon as Vegas devoured him. Whether it was his praise or his touch, Vegas couldn’t tell, but Pete’s mind was clearly spiralling into a mesmerised state of bliss.
Vegas dragged his tongue through the inside of Pete’s open mouth before breaking away. He trailed kisses down Pete’s neck, leaving a dark array of hickeys in his wake, bruising his skin with a floral arrangement of blossoms tattooed pink into his Omega’s pale flesh.
Vegas raised Pete’s T-shirt over his chest, fisting the bunched up fabric against Pete’s jutting collarbones. He sank his teeth into the sensitive pearls of his nipples. Smiling against bruised flesh, he revelled in Pete’s gasps. Vegas marked his Omega until his teeth were imprinted around his tiny buds, then his lips dragged downward.
Between the spread of Pete’s legs, Vegas growled at the taste of slick mixed with another Alpha’s come on his tongue. Pressing his thumbs to open Pete’s cheeks, he laved his tongue over his crease before dipping the tip into the furled ring of muscle protecting his entrance. He didn’t care that he was tasting his brother’s come on his Omega’s skin. The idea of it only made him rim Pete’s hole with a furious vengeance.
Pete’s thighs shuddered around Vegas’ ears as he ate him out. He opened easily for his Alpha, trembling on his tongue until his oversensitive cock burst in what was more of a precursor than a full orgasm.
As soon as Pete’s body jerked to a mini-climax, Vegas pulled back. He kissed back up the same trail he’d taken down Pete’s chest to capture his lips once more. He tongued the salty sweet mix of slick and come into Pete’s mouth.
“You’re delicious,” Vegas murmured when their kiss broke.
“Filthy,” Pete gasped out. “I can’t believe you. First Porsche and now Macau. Do you have a fetish for tasting others on me?”
Vegas let out a sound that was a mix between a chuckle and a growl. “What if I do?”
“Filthy.” Pete wrapped his arm around the back of Vegas’ neck and pulled him in close. He kissed his Alpha, carding his fingers through the dark strands of his hair as he stole some control.
Vegas groaned into the kiss as he stepped in between Pete’s legs. Gripping his smooth thighs, he pulled him to the edge of the table. Their lower bodies connected and Pete gasped into Vegas’ mouth. He breathed heavily against his lips as Vegas pulled his cock out of his slacks and lined the tip up with his come slicked entrance.
“I’m getting used to getting your sloppy seconds,” Vegas murmured, his lips twitching with a smile.
Pete rolled his eyes and groaned. “Just fuck me already, you—ah!”
Vegas didn’t give him time to finish. Without warning he thrust deep, feeding the entire length of his cock into Pete without pause.
Pete slammed a fist back onto the table, his body shuddering around Vegas’ cock. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath.
He wrapped his arms around his Alpha’s neck as Vegas fucked him on the edge of the table. His eyes rolled back as he inhaled his Alpha’s scent. Vegas intoxicated his mind, seeping into him like a drug. Pete was addicted and Vegas knew it.
He smiled as he pulled Pete away from him with a fist in his hair.
“You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?”
“Vegas…”
Vegas wrapped long fingers around Pete’s throat and shoved him down against the table.
“Vegas!” Pete gasped his name again before that grip tightened around his neck. “What if Macau comes in?”
“It’s quite literally nothing he hasn’t seen before,” Vegas teased.
Before Pete could argue he thrust deep. Protests became gasps and gasps became choked sobs.
Vegas fucked him like he wanted to break him. Every thrust hammered his nerves, pounding him hard. He’d be moving him up the table with every thrust if it weren’t for the hand around his neck.
Pete’s eyes grew wet with tears. He was beautiful in rapture. Vegas dragged his free hand up over his ribs, pushing Pete’s shirt back up to thumb at his swollen nipples.
“I want to hear you. Let go, Pete,” Vegas whispered.
On his next hard thrust, he released Pete’s neck.
Pete sucked in a sharp cry as his cock twitched and come burst from him. Liquid heat splashed his chest and chin as he came on Vegas’ cock.
Vegas growled at the sensation. He always loved this part. Pete squeezed his cock so good when his orgasm shuddered through his body. He couldn’t help himself. His thrusting picked up pace and he came hard, his knot swelling as his cock locked in the delicious warmth of his Omega’s well used body.
He kissed Pete’s neck and shoulders as he came down from his high. His hips moved in slow circles as his knot grew smaller. Since Pete wasn’t in heat, it didn’t take long to go down.
When Vegas eventually pulled out, Pete remained still, breathing deep trembling breaths. He didn’t move from where he lay on his back on the table with his T-shirt pushed up under his armpits. He looked like an absolute mess and yet Vegas’ spent cock gave another twitch, ready to attempt a second round neither of them had energy for.
“Hey.” Vegas stroked Pete’s sides, rousing him gently. “You okay?”
Pete let out a low whine. “I’m just so…hungry.”
Vegas smirked. “For food this time, right?”
With a groan, Pete sat up. His eyes narrowed with a sigh. “Yes. Food. Real food.”
“I wouldn’t know. You and your dirty mind,” Vegas teased with a charming chuckle. He pulled Pete close and inhaled his sweet post-orgasmic scent.
Pete hummed happily as his Alpha held him tight. “I’ll set the table.”
As he hopped down, Vegas smacked his ass. “Set yourself right first. You’re a mess.”
“Who’s fault is that?”
Their bickering filtered through the house. Vegas finished getting dinner ready while Pete washed up and put his pyjamas on. By the time Macau came down from his post rut nap the food was hot and ready and the table was set.
Perfectly satisfied, they sat together for a late family dinner. The picture of domestic bliss…despite the events earlier that evening.