C/W: dub con.
Elias’s POV
My taken omega, beautifully pathetic, is lying on his back with his legs spread open for me.
Every little breath he takes is loud and desperate. He’s not trying to fight the desire to breathe me in. From the rapid rise and fall of his chest, I can see he has a need to feel me in his lungs.
He needs me.
But I’m not giving him what he wants just yet. What I want is first. I am the Possessor.
"Beg" I order in a leveled tone and he whimpers. The pitiful noise is light and attractive, involuntary but acceptable.
He asked for me and my alpha refuses to forget that little fact.
After my mother’s call, I left my brothers at the restaurant in South Korea. I drove to the hanger in my black Jaguar like a mad man.
The jet wasn’t ready for a twelve hours trip, but they couldn’t say no when a gun was in their face.
I counted every fucking second down with my pocket watch, cursed at my pilot for being too slow, and rejected sleep.
Now here I am, seeing my omega for myself.
His little cock twitches against his hip. Hard, pink, and begging for the relief and release that only I can give.
"G-goddess" he gasps, back arching upwards as I press my finger into the tight nipple underneath.
He’s sensitive here...the hitch in his breath is intoxicating; the curve of his back is even more beautiful.
My possession is a work of art. The most beautiful of all my rocks. An angel.
I move to his other nipple, and his soft skin reflects how much he wants me. Sweat beads at his forehead, his thighs twitch, and I am completely entranced by him.
"Goddess?" I ask, twisting his stiff nipple between my middle finger and my thumb, reveling in the way his mouth opens wider.
"You’re calling for the goddess?" I ask, releasing his nipple.
"N-no...ah..." he moans breathlessly. His eyes are glazed with a sheen of tears. I haven’t properly touched him and he’s already falling apart.
"You want the god, angel, don’t you?" I ask, unbuttoning the cuff of my shirt and rolling it. I tilt my head, releasing more of my pheromones into the air.
His eyes grow heavier as my scent surrounds the room like a blanket.
"You’re not a g-god...nghh...you’re a monster" he stutters, panting just from the smell of me.
He was designed for me. His father’s teachings and Winslow’s grooming may have crafted him, but he doesn’t know that he has been fine tuned for me.
I will chisel him into what pleases me.
I own every bit of him. That bright red sweaty chest. Those tight nipples. That small throbbing cock.
"Beg for it, omega. Your body wants it; will you endure the pain and reject the pleasure?" I ask and he shakes his head.
"To-touch me" he says and I smirk, it’s an unintentional one, I never smile during sex, but I do it because of him.
"Here...here...touch me here" he points downwards to the part of him that needs me.
I place one knee on the bed, and he whines another ’please’ softly, staring at me with blue eyes.
"I need to hear you ask for me" my voice drops to a whisper, light yet heavy.
I lean closer. My expression is flat and my body is calm, acting like his scent is not ripping me apart from the inside.
My body is no longer under my control. Every movement costs me my sanity. My cock, hard and heavy is straining against the materials confining it.
"I need to hear you want me" I insist.
"I want you" he breathes out, pressing his head back into the bed, trying to fight away the pain as the next wave of heat rushes through him.
A clear dribble of precum slides down his hips as he struggles, giving me a lungful of his scent. Sinfully sweet.
His pheromones is doing the exact same thing my pheromones is doing to me.
Tipping me over before the time I planned.
I put my hand on him again, just a finger. One finger, to teach him a lesson. I don’t accept rejection.
I want what I want, and I will have what I want.
Him begging for me, moaning, writhing and dripping his wetness all over my white sheet is what I want.
"You won’t beg?" I place the finger under his chin, tipping his face upward, and placing my thumb right under his lip.
"Please, please...want you to..." he slips his pink tongue out to lick his dry lip, and the long muscle brushes my fingertip.
My nostrils flare at the mere sensation of his tongue on my fingers. The innocence in his eyes sends me down into a new depth.
Corruption.
I take my hand away from him, my cock is throbbing painfully now, fully hard and needing relief.
"Angel...I will ruin you, but you won’t mind, would you?" I ask and he nods at the same time he shakes his head. He is too caught up on how the ghost of my touch feels.
My eyes drop to his spread legs.
His weeping cock that is twitching helplessly, his balls that are drawn tight, and his hole...
Untouched, puckered, and waiting for me.
"Why won’t you touch me? it hurts...everywhere" he rasps and I give him a taste of what he wants.
I push two fingers into his warm mouth, and immediately, he wraps his plump lips around the digits.
There are only two fingers on his tongue, and he’s sucking on them like his salvation depends on it.
I am his salvation. I made myself his husband. And I will make myself his god.
He stops sucking for a moment and grabs his cock, his eyes slipping shut and hips jerking upward, chasing pleasure like a common omega.
The cold, refined angel of Winslow is slowly falling apart.
My chest rumbles with a growl. A possessive growl for my possession.
No one else will ever see him this way. This is mine, will always be mine, and mine alone.
I have to kill the man who touched him. Cutting his hand off is no longer satisfying. He saw Noah like this before I did.
"Noah" I call his name and his body jerks in reaction to my voice.
"You didn’t beg" I growl and his eyes snap open like he has suddenly returns to his senses, he sits up and crawls away from me.
"This is even better, I need you to fall...consciously" I say, unbuttoning my shirt.