My shy, embarrassed beta is gone, and in his place is a man who knows exactly what he wants.
I wrap my arms around the beta, backing him up until we both hit the nearest wall.
Beck’s hands come up to clutch at my biceps, his nails digging into the fabric of my shirt. I swallow down his intoxicating, clean, rain-soaked scent as he melts against me.
I can feel the hard line of his cock pressed against my thigh and the way he trembles slightly under my hands.
One of my arms bands around his waist, lifting him slightly, pulling him flush against me so there’s no space left between us. I want to absorb him, to mark him, to make it so he can’t remember his own fucking name.
When I finally pull back, it’s barely enough to breathe.
He’s panting, his lips swollen and wet, his eyes dazed and dark.
A faint blush stains his cheeks, but his gaze is locked on mine, unwavering. He looks wrecked.
He looks fucking perfect.
"Mine," I growl, then I pick him up, forcing his legs to wrap around my waist. Moving fast, I spin us around, walking straight toward my heavy steel workbench.
With a low growl, I set my mate on the cold metal surface. He moans when I press my hips forward, making him feel my hard length against his belly.
“Warren.” His hands fly out to grip the edge of the bench on either side of his hips. “I need you.”
I yank his T-shirt over his head, my hands immediately roaming the warm, smooth skin of his chest. I need to see him, to feel him, to taste every fucking inch.
My hands shake as I rip my own shirt off, then I wrap him back up in my arms. The skin-on-skin contact makes us both groan as I kiss him once again.
My hands go to his waistband, pulling at the ties of his sweatpants. I don't bother taking them all the way off. I shove them down his thighs along with his boxers. His cock springs free, hard and leaking against his stomach. I wrap my hand around it, stroking him once, twice, to feel him shudder.
"Oh, my god," he breathes, his head falling back against the wall, exposing the long, vulnerable line of his throat.
My gaze drops as I work him over.
His cock is hot and hard in my palm, a perfect, solid weight that makes my own cock throb in response. He’s smaller than an alpha, a slender, pretty length that fits perfectly in my grip, my fingers easily circling the base. The skin is velvety soft, a stark contrast to the rigid steel of his erection, and I can feel the frantic, fluttering beat of his pulse through the sensitive shaft.
I stroke him slow, my thumb swiping over the head, smearing the slick bead of precum that’s already gathered there.
It’s smooth and warm, the scent a clean, salty, uniquely beta aroma that makes my mouth water and my alpha instincts roar with the need to claim.
A guttural groan is still in my throat as I sink to my knees before him. The sight of Beck from this angle—head thrown back, chest heaving, and his pretty cock flushed and weeping for me—is a fucking prayer answered.
I don't waste a second. I lean in and swipe a broad, flat lick across the head, tasting the salty-sweet slickness of his precum.
His body jolts, and a sharp, shocked gasp tears from his lips. "Warren!"
I smirk against his sensitive skin before taking him into my mouth. He’s the perfect size, a slender, velvety length that I can take to the root easily, my nose burying in the neat patch of hair at his base. I hollow my cheeks, sucking hard as I pull back, my tongue swirling around the ridge before I plunge down again. I set a punishing rhythm, giving him a hard, dirty blowjob.
One of my hands grips his hip, holding him steady, while the other cups his balls, rolling them gently in my palm. He’s chanting my name now, a broken, desperate litany, his hands flying to my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, holding on for dear life.
I can feel him getting close, his thighs tensing, his cock twitching on my tongue. I look up his body, meeting his dazed, lust-filled eyes, and give one final, hard suck, and he shatters, crying out as he fills my mouth.
I don't pull away. Instead, I keep him in my mouth, my grip firm on his twitching shaft. I milk him with my lips and tongue, stroking upward in a slow, deliberate rhythm, coaxing out every last drop.
Beck’s body shudders violently, his hands tightening inmy hair as I wring him dry, tasting the full, salty essence of his release. I hold it all on my tongue, a warm, intimate offering.
Once my beta’s tremors finally subside, I release him slowly. He slumps against the wall, as I rise to my feet, my own arousal a painful, demanding pressure behind my zipper. I hold his gaze as I pull down my jeans and boxers in one rough motion, my thick, alpha cock springing free, flushed and rock-hard.
Without breaking eye contact, I lean in, capturing Beck’s lips in a hard, possessive kiss. I push a little bit of his own cum from my mouth into his in a filthy, intimate sharing of his pleasure. He moans, startled, but accepts it, his tongue swiping out across my lips.
