Want.
Mal pinched his lips together and tugged his fly down.
There was no relief when he introduced the vibrator to his shaft. He dipped it downward, letting it follow the seam of his fly, until it met his balls. A cry burst from his lips before he could help himself, and he clamped his hand over his mouth to try to muffle any other sounds that would betray his position.
He’d found pleasure, and his body wasn’t afraid to let him know it.
Whimpering into his hand as tingling need shot through his groin, Mal held the vibrator more tightly against the place that had made him feel so wonderful. His boxer-briefs separated the silicone in his hand from his bare skin, dampening the buzz. Soon, even the slight deprivation would be unbearable—the onset of his heat was already begging him to take things further. It wantedmore.
Shoulders slumping, he pressed the vibrator closer to his body. The shiny dress shoes he’d been so proud to wear scuffed against the floor. Once upon a time, he’d been forced to attend events like this barefoot. Those days were no more. He’d found his freedom—if only his heat would let him enjoy it.
Mal pushed himself into a new position against the wall and slipped the vibrator down a little farther, chasing release. New pleasure raced through him, and he threw back his head and panted as his balls tightened and drew upward. Orgasm was on its way. If it arrived, it’d clear his mind, calm his thoughts, and let him rejoin the party. Just a little more, and—
The doorknob twisted, the door opened, and a young man stumbled in. Mal gasped and jerked his hand out of his pants, holding the vibrator at arm’s length with trepidation, like it was a cobra ready to strike.
It continued to buzz.
Alarmed, Mal fumbled with the switch, but it wouldn’t turn off—he realized far too late that he was using the wrong one. By the time he corrected his mistake, the man had already spotted him.
They stared each other down, the stranger’s dark eyes meeting his own pale blues.
“I’m so sorry,” Mal whispered. His heart pounded against his ribs, and his breath stuck in his throat. “I’msosorry. I… I’m just…”
His gaze dipped, following the cut of the stranger’s suit over his firm body. He washandsome.If Mal had been ten years younger…
No. Bad thoughts.Badthoughts.
Mal redirected his focus north, looking the stranger in the eyes. It wasn’t just his body that was handsome—his features were subtle, but powerfully proportioned in relation to each other. His hair was long at the top, but kept short at the sides, rich and brown and full. A neatly trimmed boxed beard slimmed his face and hinted at maturity. He was younger than Mal, certainly, but not so young that he was juvenile. Mal considered himself bad with telling a person’s age, but he assumed the stranger was in his mid-to-late thirties.
The door to the storage closet swung shut.
“Are you going into heat?” the stranger asked. The scent of it was on the air—just enough to give Mal away.
Mal nodded. Butterflies took flight in his stomach. He realized he’d never closed his fly, but he couldn’t bring himself to correct that embarrassment now.
Not with those dark eyes staring him down, peering through him, seeingeverything.
“Did you manage to find blockers in time?”
Mal nodded again. He wanted to speak, but he knew if he did, anything he said would come out jumbled.
The stranger’s gaze traveled to the vibrator in Mal’s hand, lingering there for a tense moment. Electricity hummed in the air between them, and Mal’s cock twitched. The blockers had his heat under control, even if it didn’t feel like it—he was perfectly able to consent, and knew as much—but a new kind of need had taken root inside of him. It throbbed in his balls and demanded he address it.
Whoever the stranger was, Mal wanted him.
He wanted himbadly.
For a short while, all they could do was stare each other down. Mal’s cock throbbed in time with his heart. Now that he’d been interrupted, he’d never find satisfaction with a vibrator alone. His needs had evolved as the air thickened, and his body demanded more.
It wanted—needed—him to be careless.
There was an alpha in the room, and Mal needed to fuck him.
He needed to conceive.
When the stranger spoke again, his words were carefully selected and full-bodied from intent. There was a dark, but cautious note to his voice that Mal recognized immediately. It carried the same burning yearning that he felt inside himself. “Do you need some help?”
Without hesitation, Mal whispered, “Yes.”
