chapter 8

Rhonin tightened his grip on Argent's thighs, spreading them further as he quickened his pace. 

He wasn't just teasing anymore. He was devouring. 

His tongue worked in deep, firm strokes, flicking over sensitive flesh, sucking gently, pressing where he knew it would make Argent react. His fingers curled inside, stretching, coaxing, pressing against the spot that made omegas melt. 

And Argent—Argent was finally melting. 

The omega's breath hitched, his legs twitching, thighs trembling around Rhonin's head. 

Rhonin felt a sharp tug at his hair. 

A hand—Argent's hand. 

Gripping, tugging, fingers curling in golden strands like he couldn't help himself. 

Rhonin smirked against him.

'So, you do react, huh?' 

Encouraged, he pressed deeper, harder, drinking in every tiny sound Argent made. The small, almost reluctant whimpers, the way his thighs quivered, the way his hips just barely shifted, instinctively seeking more. 

Rhonin preened. 

Argent had walked into this room, cold, detached, untouched. 

But now? Now he was coming apart. 

"That's it," Rhonin murmured against him, his voice low, husky, vibrating against slick, sensitive flesh. "Just let go." 

Argent let out a sharp, broken breath. 

Rhonin knew he was close. 

And fuck, he wanted to see it. 

Wanted to watch him shatter. 

Even though his own cock was achingly hard, his alpha instincts screaming at him to claim, to take, to knot— he ignored all of it. 

Because right now? 

He only wanted this. 

Argent's pleasure. 

Argent's surrender. 

And he was going to drag him over the edge if it killed him.

He didn't stop there. 

Not when Argent's thighs quivered. Not when his grip in Rhonin's hair tightened, pulling sharply, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. 

And definitely not when he finally heard it. 

A real, unrestrained moan. 

Low and breathy. 

Rhonin groaned against him, tongue dragging in deep, slow strokes, drinking in every drop of slick that flooded against his lips. 

"Fuck, that's it," He murmured between licks, lapping at him hungrily. "Come for me." 

Argent's breathing broke, sharp and uneven. 

Rhonin felt the moment it happened—the omega's entire body tensing before shuddering violently, his climax spilling against Rhonin's waiting mouth. 

Rhonin groaned, lapping him through it, savoring it, dragging out every last tremor until Argent finally collapsed back onto the sheets. 

For the first time, he looked undone. 

Not the cold, pristine omega who had walked in expecting to simply get bred and leave. 

Now the omega was flushed, panting, his chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths. 

Rhonin sat back on his knees, watching him, admiring the mess he'd made of him. 

Argent slowly turned his head, dark eyes lidded, heavy, satisfied. Their gazes met. 

Then, finally, he spoke. 

"Not bad." 

Rhonin blinked. Then he let out a breathless laugh. "You're welcome." 

He expected a moment of rest. Maybe Argent would lay back, catch his breath, let Rhonin prepare himself. 

What he did not expect— 

Was for Argent to move so fucking fast. 

One second, he was lying there, a perfect, spent omega. 

The next? 

His legs hooked around Rhonin's waist, flipping them over effortlessly. 

Rhonin landed flat on his back, blinking up in shock as Argent straddled him. 

He barely had time to process before his cock slid right through those soaking, sensitive folds, the friction damn near making him see stars. 

A deep, broken grunt left his throat as pleasure shot through him, hard and fast. 

"Fuck—" 

His fingers clenched into the sheets, breathing heavy, his entire body fighting against his instincts to just— 

Argent, still catching his breath, slowly shifted above him, those wet, slick folds dragging teasingly over his length. 

Rhonin groaned, hard and aching beneath him, his restraint hanging by a fucking thread. 

He looked up, gaze dark and dazed, finding Argent watching him with that same unreadable expression. 

Like he had all the control now. 

Rhonin swallowed hard. 

Holy fuck.

Rhonin was losing his mind. 

Argent sat poised above him, dragging himself along the aching length of his cock, teasing, playing, fucking toying with him. 

"Shit," Rhonin gritted out, his hands fisting into the sheets, muscles coiled tight as he fought every single instinct screaming at him to grab the omega's hips and just— 

Argent was clearly enjoying this. 

His movements were slow, calculated, cruel—his body shifting just enough to let Rhonin feel everything without giving him anything. 

Heat curled around Rhonin, thick and intoxicating, the omega's slick coating his cock, making every teasing slide hotter, wetter, unbearable. 

"You're holding back," Argent murmured, watching him with dark amusement. 

Rhonin's jaw locked. "No shit." 

Argent tilted his head, rolling his hips slightly, letting the tip of Rhonin's cock nudge against his entrance—but not taking him in. 

Rhonin groaned, head pressing back into the pillows, his hands itching to grab, to claim, to take. 

But he didn't. 

Because Argent was in control. 

Fuck, that just made him harder. 

And then.

Finally—finally—Argent exhaled slowly, his thighs flexing as he tilted his hips forward, sinking down. 

A tight, hot grip wrapped around him, slick and perfect, taking him inch by inch. 

Rhonin's breath shuddered. 

Argent let out a slow, unfiltered moan, his fingers pressing lightly against Rhonin's chest as he took all of him. 

Then—softly, breathless, eyes half-lidded—he murmured, "Fuck, you're big." 

Rhonin gritted his teeth, hands flying to Argent's hips. 

"You're gonna kill me," He ground out. 

Argent smirked—then moved.

The omega rode him slow, deliberate, taking exactly what he needed. 

Rhonin watched in awe, chest rising and falling heavily, hands gripping tightly at the omega's hips but not guiding—just holding, grounding himself as Argent used him. 

It was undeniably, brutally intimate. 

The way Argent moved, hips rolling in shallow thrusts, dragging slick pussy over Rhonin's cock, sending sharp, electric pleasure through his body. 

The way his breath hitched, controlled but not unaffected. 

The way his gaze met Rhonin's again— 

Dark. Heated. Owning him. 

Rhonin let out a loud, wrecked moan as Argent ground down, sending a sharp spike of pleasure curling up his spine. 

That was it. 

"Two can play at this game," Rhonin growled. 

His grip tightened, fingers pressing into smooth, flushed skin, holding Argent in place. 

Then, in one sharp motion, he thrust up. 

Argent gasped, body jolting as Rhonin met his movements, thrusting up to match his rhythm. 

A slick, wet sound filled the air, the sheer intensity of it making Rhonin groan, his muscles flexing as he snapped his hips up again, harder. 

Argent's lips parted slightly, his hands bracing against Rhonin's chest, trying to keep his balance as the alpha started fucking into him properly. 

"Fuck," Rhonin groaned, dragging Argent down harder, faster, his instincts finally taking over. 

Argent shuddered. 

Rhonin smirked. 

"You feel that?" He murmured, voice thick with arousal. 

Argent breathed in deeply— then smirked back. 

And just like that, the game really began.