AmeliaCovet

"I can't do that," he says softly, staring absentmindedly in the whiskey glass, "I'm the Alpha."

"So?"

"So, I'm not supposed to be this.... submissive," he spats, eyebrow creasing as if the whiskey glass is a rotten tomato.

"Come here." Kamil instructs gently, watching the turmoil in the way he grinds his teeth, bites his lips but when he raised his head and their eyes meet, the hesitation fades.

Dropping into his arms, Kamil strokes his hair slowly at first, curls as wispy as flowers. Suddenly, he grabs onto them roughly tilting his head towards him, trailing a finger down his throat to a nipple.

And when a whimper fell from the Alpha's lips, he growled and bit his ear, leaving a mark so red fire pales in comparison.

"Out there, you're the Alpha. But in here with me, you're mine. You are my good boy."


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Full description titled Making the Alpha Submit blurb

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WARNING: mature scenes between two (consenting) men
light kink & submission
if a chapter labelled M isn't your kind of thing, do pass on to the next (or scroll rapidly to the end of the M chapter)



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Contact me: Instagram @ameliacovet
Twitter: @ameliacovet

Making The Alpha Submit  (BL)

IT'S NOT NEARLY AS important but when the door close softly behind him, Precious reflects that they had both come out of the same room; this early in the morning, there's no reason for the Captain to be in his house.

His brain thinks this repetitively as his body sluggishly keeps up with Kamil. Stopping in the kitchen, he instinctively adopts a defensive posture—arms crossed, legs slightly apart.

"Precious. I am not trying to excuse what they did. I am not. But, don't you think it'll be better to wait a beat before making a decision? Maybe waiting until dawn breaks and solve this with a clearer head."

"I'm just saying that, yes what they did is wrong but we, as the adults are responsible for them. It will go a long way if we tread carefully—"

"And treat them with kiddie gloves, is that what you're saying? I should overlook the atrocity they committed—"

RUNTS (3.5)