Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
His hindbrain screamed that this was wrong, but Michael gritted his teeth and pushed through, forcing a second finger inside. His friend needed help, and he was the only one in a position to give it. He’d be damned if he let Ant die when he could actually do something to save him.
It was just a body. He could do this, and then he would pretend it had never happened. Besides, Anthony likely wouldn’t even remember this once it was over. Michael would be the only one who knew—the sole witness to the perverse act he’d been forced to perform to save his friend’s life.
Locking his jaw, Michael scissored his fingers, stretching his hole roughly. It felt strange—uncomfortable and unnatural, but it didn’t really hurt.
Finally, as ready as he was ever going to be, he withdrew his fingers and reached for Anthony’s underwear. Bracing himself, he pulled it off.
Holy shit.
Anthony’s cock was massive—long, veined, nearly as thick as Michael’s wrist, flushed a deep, angry red with arousal.
Swallowing, Michael reached down and wrapped his hand around it. It was so warm. And hard. And thick. An alpha’s cock in his hand.
This was so damn wrong.
He worked Anthony’s cock in quick, shaky strokes, desperate—pleading—for it to be enough. But he knew alphas deep in their rut needed more than just friction. Even unconscious, Anthony’s body would know the difference. Alphas deep in their rut needed to fuck, to claim someone. A hand was extremely unlikely to work.
And it didn’t.
After ten minutes, Michael gave up and let go of the cock. It looked nearly purple with arousal. But Anthony wasn’t going to come like that.
He knew what had to be done.
His asshole clenched in discomfort and revulsion as he stared at his friend’s erection.
Lube. He needed way more lube.
Reaching for the lotion, he slicked up Anthony’s cock, his stomach in knots.
This is wrong, his instincts screamed as he straddled Anthony’s hips and lined up his massive erection against his own asshole.
Get a fucking grip, he snapped at himself. It was just a body. He could do this. What were pain and humiliation compared to his friend’s life?
Taking a deep breath, he bore down.
It was...
Biting his lip hard, Michael ignored the discomfort and kept pushing onto the massive rod until it felt jammed against his heart. Fucking hell. It was so damn big. It wasn’t really painful, but it was very uncomfortable and very, very strange.
Dazedly, he opened his eyes and looked down. He’d taken it all. He was seated fully on Anthony’s cock. Another alpha’s cock.
He pressed his hands to Anthony’s chest, breathing heavily. His heart was racing as fast as Anthony’s. Trying to ignore his protesting instincts, Michael pulled up and slowly sank down on the cock again.
Fuuuck. It felt like it was splitting him wide open. Michael suddenly had a lot of sympathy for the tiny omegas he’d fucked in the past. But then again, omegas’ bodies were designed to take an alpha’s cock. His wasn’t. This was fucking unnatural. Perverse.
Clenching his jaw, Michael lifted himself and sank back down onto the other alpha’s cock, forcing himself to ignore his mind’s recoil, to silence the growls of his hindbrain. He could do this. He was doing this to save—
Anthony suddenly came alive under him, his hips bucking up. And then Michael found himself on his back, under the other alpha, who was growling and thrusting into him.
Michael’s first instinct was to fight, but he forced himself to relax. This was good. This would get the job done. Riding his unconscious friend might not have worked—this was better. Alphas had to take someone for their bodies to release the chemicals that ended a rut. This was very good.
But no matter what he told himself, the animal part of him was still howling that this was wrong, that he should fight Anthony off, that he shouldn’t have another alpha on top of him, rutting into him, dominating him. A flush of humiliation made his face burn as he looked between their bodies—at his big, soft cock bouncing at every thrust of Anthony’s cock in his asshole. Fuck, it was a good thing he was the only person who would remember this. Anthony’s eyes were open but glazed and unseeing as he pounded into him. He was clearly out of it, his body all instinct, feral growls leaving his lips.
It was so overwhelming, but little by little, Michael found himself relaxing and closing his eyes. He could get through this. It wasn’t that bad, really. It wasn’t even painful. Just weird and wrong and not right—
The cock hit something in him, and Michael jolted, his eyes flying open. What?
Anthony slammed against the same spot, causing a jolt of—no, no, it couldn’t be pleasure. He wasn’t enjoying this. He was an alpha. He didn’t—couldn’t—enjoy being mounted by another alpha—