Page 30 of His Incubus Husband

Oswald clicked on the first file and frowned.

It appeared to be high-quality security footage from an opulent hotel suite, with a large living room, an office corner with a view of a city skyline, and double doors leading to what must have been the bedroom. A corner of a white bed was visible in the opening.

One bald, middle-aged alpha sat on the sofa, scrolling on a tablet. He was a big man, with a broad chest and long arms. Another man was working on a laptop in the office corner, similarly built but with a bigger belly. Both alphas were silent.

At first, Oswald didn’t recognize them. But then a sound made one of the men raise his head.

Harlan Stokes. Meaning the other person must be Maynard Stokes.

“What have you done?” Oswald breathed.

Valentino didn’t respond and didn’t move. Oswald didn’t look at him. He could only stare at the video, a vague sense of dread constricting his chest.

It was surreal. Two of his greatest enemies, men who wanted him dead, who had been trying to ruin him for years…

On the screen, a young bellhop entered the hotel room, pushing a trolley. He served the Stokes brothers coffee and bourbon. At first, the alphas observed him with detached calm, but slowly, their expressions hardened. Abruptly, Maynard stood and walked over, positioning himself between the bellhop and the trolley.

When the bellhop turned, he bumped into Maynard’s chest. He was slim, a head shorter than the hulking alpha. Maynard’s lips moved, and Oswald increased the volume on the video.

“You smell like a horny whore.”

“Sir, please…”

“Hey, Harlan, can you smell that?”

“Enjoy your coffee, sir,” the bellhop said in a shaky voice.

He tried to walk around Maynard, but the alpha grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“What the fuck is that stink?” Harlan asked, putting his tablet aside. He rubbed his crotch, grimacing.

Oswald didn’t need to recognize the bellhop’s features to know who it was. The omega seemed to be barely twenty, with dark hair, bright green eyes, and smooth, tanned skin. He looked slender and frail.

“Are you in heat, whore? Huh? How come you’re working when you’re in heat?”

Maynard shoved the omega onto the sofa next to his brother. Harlan grabbed the boy’s wrists.

Oswald didn’t want to see what came next. He clicked forward into the middle of the clip.

The video now showed the omega on his knees on the sofa, ass up toward the camera. Harlan’s open pants stuck around his thighs, and his shirt hid most of his bare butt. He was fucking the omega viciously. His brother was naked aside from his socks, sitting on the sofa by the omega’s side. With one hand, he was holding the omega’s neck, pushing the boy’s face into the cushions, and with the other, he was stroking his erection. The omega’s cries echoed in the room.

Heart pounding, Oswald clicked on another video.

It was from a different camera in the bedroom. The omega was spread out on the bed, arms tied to the headboard. Maynard was kneeling between his legs, pumping his hips in an unmistakable way. Harlan was humping the bed, his face on the omega’s chest, sucking his nipples.

The omega was visibly orgasming, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, neck corded. His underbelly looked enlarged, like he’d been bred many times.

Last video. Bedroom again, a different angle.

Maynard lay on the bed on his back, holding the omega to his chest. He bucked into the boy’s stretched hole. His brother shuffled closer on his knees. He lined up and pushed in. The omega wailed.

They moved in sync, sweat running down their bodies in rivulets.

Rocked between the two men, the omega made inhuman sounds that could have been easily mistaken for pain, but Oswald knew his little incubus well.

Double-dicked by the Stokes brothers, Valentino was coming in waves. For a split second, he glanced straight into the camera, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his open mouth. Then his eyes rolled back into his head, and he arched with yet another orgasm.

Oswald moved to the last few minutes of the video. It showed Maynard and Harlan Stokes naked on a soiled bed, facing each other. The omega was nowhere to be seen. The brothers pulled on each other’s dicks, growling and groaning, teeth gritted, faces scrunched into painful grimaces. Harlan’s cock spurted, and his cum splattered on his brother’s skin.