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“You’re an omega. I’m an alpha,” Max said, voice leading, like the conclusion should have been obvious. But Lewis just looked at him, arms crossed, foot tapping an unrecognizable rhythm on the floor of his driver’s room. Then he sighed, eyes flickering to the covered window, jaw clenched.
Max didn’t know why he’d chosen today of all days to proposition Lewis, but hell, he had just gotten pole, his rut was next week, and he really, really wanted him.
But regret started to bite at him after the words left his mouth. He hadn’t really thought through what he was going to say, just felt like their biology would do the trick. Didn’t expect the coldness from Lewis, the hard set of his jaw, the disappointment in his voice. He was half hard already, despite it, or because of it.
“Do you know how many alphas try their bullshit on me every week?” Lewis asked, turned back towards him, scrutiny in his eyes. “Think they have some kind of claim on me just because I’m an omega?”
Max opened his mouth, then closed it, opened it again, but nothing came out. Floundering like a fucking fish. He could feel his cheeks flaming, shame and arousal rising up into his throat at Lewis’ chastising tone.
“You’re not special,” Lewis bit out, cold emphasis on each word, but there was something underneath it, something shaky, like he was—like he was trying to convince the both of them. It felt like a lie, smelled like one, too, and fuck, fuck, Max was so turned on he was dizzy. Lewis looked beautiful like this, eyes shining, lit up with irritation and indignance, braids framing his face. It made it hard to think.
They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, Lewis’ hands dropping to curl into fists at his sides, determined but guarded.
“I fucking love it when you’re mean to me,” Max whispered—a confession—awed and hoarse, didn’t even register his own words before he was closing the distance between them, two large steps, grabbing Lewis’ jaw and kissing him.
Everything went still, quiet, the only sound a small gasp from Lewis and the pounding of Max’s heart in his ears. Lewis’ lips were so soft, plump, felt so right against his, slotted into him so perfectly. He moved his hands, grabbed the omega’s hips, squeezing, testing, fingers flexing against the fabric of his shirt.
A noise echoed through the room then, that was what Max registered first, then his head whipping to the side, a burning pain spreading hot across his cheek.
Lewis had slapped him.
Max’s cock jerked at the realization, hot and insistent, mouth falling open, his hand finding its way to his injured cheek and lightly touching the skin to assess the damage. Lewis hadn’t used his full strength, but by God it stung, and Max didn’t think he’d ever been so hard in his life. He slowly turned back towards Lewis, eyes taking in the disheveled omega in front of him.
He was breathing heavy, looking up at Max in surprise and offense and something wild, something molten and wanting that told Max it had been worth it. Lewis didn’t move away, didn’t remove Max’s hands from his hips. His scent was magma, deep and rich and going to boil over if Max didn’t move.
So he did, and then they were crashing into each other, Max’s tongue diving into Lewis’ open, inviting mouth, licking him up, moaning at the taste. Cherries and sugar and everything sweet and addicting, everything that would ruin him if he wasn’t careful.
Lewis whined into him, clawed at his back it hurt even through the fabric of his team kit, and then he was being pushed away, their mouths disconnecting, an unhappy noise leaving Max’s throat. Lewis just rolled his eyes, pushed him back again, walked them both to the couch on the other side of the room until Max’s legs hit the edge and he was falling down.
And then Lewis was following him down, straddling him, Max’s hands immediately finding his thick, strong thighs, clutching at them like he would sink through the cushions if he let go. He realized Lewis didn’t have pants on and—fuck—when had he even done that?
Lewis kissed him again, distracted him from his thoughts, fucked his tongue into Max’s mouth, made him groan, hands digging even harder into Lewis’ skin. They tore into each other, hard and desperate and mean, Lewis sucking on his bottom lip, biting into it, licking up the spit and diving back in with his tongue.
Max felt like he was going to die. This was perfect, so perfect, he never wanted to be anywhere else, never wanted to move again. He felt like Lewis surrounded him completely, his taste, his scent, the low sounds he made.
Lewis grabbed one of his hands then, broke it away from his thigh, guided it to the heat between his legs, and Max got the hint. Lewis was already soaked, his slick dripping down the inside of his leg where Max swiped his fingers. And then he was pressing two against Lewis’ hole, firm and steady, Lewis moaning when they finally pushed in.
He got up to the knuckle, then pulled out, thrust in again, further, curled his fingers, rubbed against Lewis’ walls. Lewis was breathing out little broken noises with every move, eyes squeezed closed and beautiful mouth open.
He added a third finger, aiming for the right spot inside Lewis, and couldn’t help but grin when he found it, Lewis jerking in his hold, gasp escaping his lips.
“I want you to ride me,” he whispered, begged.
“I don’t care what you want,” Lewis replied, cold even with Max three fingers deep in his pussy, fucking into him with eager but practiced strokes. Max had to hold back a whimper.
Lewis didn’t change their position, though, kept himself knelt over Max’s waist, hips thrusting back and forth in time with Max’s hand, chasing his pleasure.
And later, when Max pulled his fingers out, he automatically moved them to his mouth, the thought of tasting Lewis taking over his brain. He licked at the slick falling down his knuckles, then stuck all three fingers into his mouth, groaning at the burst of Lewis that covered his tastebuds. Just as sweet as his mouth, sweeter, made for him to devour.
His eyes had fallen closed, and when he reopened them, he found Lewis looking down at him, curiosity in his gaze, maybe even something close to awe.
“Are you going to lay there drinking my slick like a starving dog all day, or are you gonna fuck me?” Lewis asked, contempt in his tone, but Max could tell how breathless he was, how turned on. Could smell it on him. Could taste it.
He took a deep breath through his nose, letting the scent of Lewis fill him up, make his dick even harder. He unzipped his pants, Lewis helping him push them and his underwear down to his mid thigh, then he grabbed his dick at the base, lined himself with Lewis’ waiting hole, and pushed.
And then he was inside Lewis, the omega’s pussy sucking him in like they were made to fit together. Max almost lost it right then and there, shaking underneath Lewis like he really was a dog, trying to hold himself back from jerking his hips up and burying himself all the way in that perfect, wet cunt.
Lewis’ eyes fell closed, hands on Max’s chest to steady himself, and then he was moving, tiny thrusts up and down, taking Max’s cock a little further each time. Max couldn’t do anything but stare. Stare at Lewis’ blissed-out face, at the sweat dripping down his neck, over his tattoos, at his cunt, watching himself disappear further and further inside that tight heat.
When Lewis was fully seated on his cock, he moaned, head falling back a little, exposing his throat to Max like it was nothing. Max growled, making to sit up, to get his nose and mouth attached to his skin, but Lewis shoved him back down, tsking at him like he was an untrained animal.
“Didn’t say you could move,” Lewis said lightly, and Max’s dick jerked inside of him. It made Lewis laugh.
Lewis really started moving then, bouncing up and down on his cock, hole stretching around him with each thrust. It was the best thing Max had ever felt.
“Hit me again,” Max pleaded suddenly, didn’t expect the words to come out of his mouth, but it was too late.
Lewis, to his credit, barely hesitated before pulling his palm back and slapping it across Max’s untouched cheek, and God, the pain was heaven-sent. Lewis was an angel, delivering divine punishment. Max moaned, eyes rolling back into his head as the pleasure-sting lit up his nerves, bucking harder into the omega.
He wanted to cry, knew he probably looked crazy, cheeks stained red, mouth swollen, eyes teary and dazed. He couldn’t really smell himself, but he knew his scent was probably overbearing in the small room, if the way Lewis’ own scent hit him was anything to go by.
Then one of Lewis’ hands grabbed at Max’s hair, pulled rough and mean. Max groaned, let his head fall back with it, his own throat exposed this time, kept his eyes on Lewis, tracking him. He could feel his knot growing, swelling around the base of his cock and begging to bully itself inside Lewis’ tight hole.
“Right there, right there,” Lewis mewled, bouncing faster, harder, nearly overcome. Max’s grip on Lewis’ hips tightened, fucked into him again and again, then brought one hand down to his clit, rubbed a circle into the swollen bundle of nerves.
It barely took anything for Lewis to come, after that. A few swipes of Max’s fingers and he was gone, hand leaving Max’s hair to cover his own mouth as he nearly screamed into his palm. His scent exploded, surrounded Max, had him letting out an embarrassing whine as the sweet headiness took over his senses.
Lewis’ pussy clenched wildly around his cock, pulsing and pulsing like it was trying to milk it dry, and Max couldn’t take it anymore. He bucked up into Lewis one, two, three more times, his knot pressing in further and further, until it finally popped in, locking them together as his cum flooded Lewis’ insides.
Lewis moaned, muffled still by his palm, the hand still on Max’s chest flexing, nails digging into his skin. He was still moving, squirming on Max’s cock, wringing out every last ounce of pleasure from both of their bodies. Max’s mouth had fallen open, whispered moans escaping his throat with every wiggle of Lewis’ hips.
They were both breathing heavy, harsh and loud into the otherwise quiet room, minutes passing as their bodies calmed down.
Lewis’ hand fell away from his mouth, lightly slapped at Max’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you knotted me.”
“You didn’t tell me not to,” he responded, mouth quirking up in a tiny smirk.
Lewis glared down at him, unamused. He still looked so pretty, cheeks flushed and braids askew, eyes glittering like the jewel in his nose. Even the scowl on his face was beautiful, so poised and serious. Max couldn’t even remember what had pissed him off, too fucked out, too busy memorizing Lewis’ face like this.
He wanted to ask if Lewis would let him do this again, but the words got stuck in his throat, and he swallowed them back down.
He felt like he wouldn’t like the answer, anyways.