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The late morning sun slanted through the wide glass windows of the Team X-Hunter garage office, casting angular patterns of light on the smooth, waxed floors and the gleaming exposed steel beams above. Everything in the room was painfully pristine, from the crisp white blinds to the smell of leather-bound chairs and freshly brewed coffee.
Kenta sat behind the central meeting table, a sleek, imported blackwood piece he’d insisted on when he redesigned the sponsor negotiation lounge. He liked control. Precision. Elegance without waste. Everything in this room was a mirror of his personality—disciplined, uncompromising, refined, and intimidatingly sharp.
Today, however, there was something fraying beneath that flawless exterior.
He wore a loose black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, baring the solid curve of his forearms—strong, tan, veined just enough to catch the eye. The shirt was tucked into slim black slacks, the top few buttons teasing at the dip of his collarbones. His dark hair, longer now and lazily brushed back, framed a face that was almost too beautiful for this world—high cheekbones, smooth golden skin, lips that looked like sin sculpted by gods. He looked like an Omega no one deserved to touch.
And yet…
Across the table sat a predator.
Mr. Daichi Takanari.
Late thirties. Japanese-Thai. A multi-millionaire tech tycoon and sole heir of the Takanari Group—a dynasty known for its aggressive investments and airtight sponsorship contracts. He was the kind of Alpha that didn’t just walk into a room. He claimed it.
His suit was dark navy, silk-threaded, perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders and trim waist. His shoes were polished enough to reflect light. A platinum watch clung to his wrist, understated and loud at once. His hair was slicked back, precise to every strand, and his face—handsome in the kind of way that was dangerous. Clean jaw, thin lips, sharp nose, and eyes that gleamed like obsidian glass—cold, unreadable, but with just enough glint of heat to burn.
Kenta had dealt with worse. He’d survived Tony. He’d outsmarted every power-hungry Alpha in Bangkok’s underground racing world before the X-Hunter team even existed. And yet…
Something was wrong today.
The air was thicker. Dense.
Kenta could feel it in his chest, under his skin, pooling low in his belly like an oil slick waiting for a spark. His scent blockers were still active. He’d checked them before the meeting. And yet, something coiled in him, tighter and tighter.
He didn’t even realize his thighs were clenched until the Alpha leaned forward.
Takanari’s voice was velvet-dipped. “You handle your team’s finances with ruthless elegance, Mr. Kenta. I’m impressed. And I don’t impress easily.”
Kenta’s tongue was too dry. He blinked once, then gave a smooth smile. “We don’t aim to impress, Mr. Takanari. We aim to perform.”
“Performance can be bought,” the Alpha replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “But presence? Presence is something rare. I see why your team thrives. You command more than attention.”
There it was.
The pheromones flooded in waves now. It wasn’t overt—no Alpha could legally saturate a negotiation room—but Kenta could feel it. The scent of cedarwood, spice, and something darker. Muskier. Designed to seduce. Designed to make a weaker Omega fold at the knees.
Kenta held his pen tighter, knuckles whitening. A bead of sweat ran slowly down the back of his neck.
He was mated. Mated.
But even mating marks couldn’t stop the body from reacting to an Alpha who wanted.
And Daichi Takanari wanted.
“Is there something wrong?” the Alpha asked, as though nothing was happening. “You seem a little… flushed.”
Kenta tilted his chin up, expression sharpening into a blade. “I don’t tolerate underhanded tactics. Especially not ones that rely on scent manipulation during legal talks.”
Daichi gave a small, pleased smile, teeth flashing. “Forgive me. I must be unaware of my own intensity. It’s difficult, when the room already smells so…” He let the pause drag. “Alluring.”
Kenta’s jaw ticked.
That was the moment the first cramp hit. Subtle. Low. A twisting ache in his belly that he tried to pass off as posture tension. But his Omega instincts knew better.
Not yet.
No.
His heat wasn’t due for another four days. Kim had planned his return before then. The suppressants were supposed to keep it contained. But the scent of this Alpha—the aggression, the heat, the silent, smug claiming—was pulling at the thin veil of Kenta’s control.
He shifted slightly in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. His scent was still contained, but he could feel the way Daichi was watching him.
“Let’s keep this professional,” Kenta said tightly, even as another wave of heat coursed through his spine. His throat bobbed, fingers clenching his pen again. “You were offering a three-year contract with quarterly review clauses. That’s not going to fly with our team. We have season-based evaluations. You’re welcome to match our structure or leave.”
Daichi chuckled. He leaned forward again, sliding the contract folder a little closer, then deliberately tapped the paper with a single finger. “That’s what I love about you, Mr. Kenta. So sharp. So unafraid to bite.”
His voice dipped, softer now. “Do you bite your Alpha like that too?”
Kenta’s eyes flickered.
Daichi’s eyes burned.
That was the moment Kenta knew.
The Alpha was trying to make him break.
Because Kenta—gorgeous, intelligent, cool Kenta—was a prize. A challenge. A mate already taken by another Alpha, and still the most magnetic creature in the room.
And the worst part?
Part of him wanted to fold. His body, aching and flushed with involuntary slick starting to pool, was betraying him.
“I don’t fuck sponsors,” Kenta said coolly, even as his thighs trembled beneath the table. “Especially not ones who think they can overpower consent with pheromones.”
“And yet you’re trembling,” Daichi said softly, eyes narrowing in something like satisfaction.
Kenta stood abruptly.
The Alpha followed suit.
For a brief, flickering moment, they were a breath apart. Kenta’s head tilted up, glare sharp, face beautiful and flushed. Daichi stood tall, confident, reeking of power and patience. His eyes were dark now—dangerous and hungry.
Kenta’s voice was quieter. “Get out of this garage before I show you just how much I don’t need an Alpha to make me feel anything.”
Daichi smiled. “Ah. That’s the Tony blood in you.”
Kenta’s whole body stilled.
Daichi tilted his head. “You hide it well. But I make it a point to know who I’m hunting.”
Kenta’s nostrils flared.
Heat. Rage. Shame. Arousal.
And beneath it all… fear.
Not of Daichi.
Of himself.
He was starting to want.
Kenta had barely made it through the goodbye with Jeff.
The younger Omega had narrowed his eyes the moment Kenta said, “I’ll close up early today. Go on ahead. I’ll lock the back.”
Jeff was many things—Alan’s mate, a mechanic by passion, a pack advisor by experience—but above all, he was perceptive.
“You okay?” he’d asked, tilting his head.
Kenta had forced a smile, holding himself together by sheer will. “Fine. Just… long morning.”
Jeff’s gaze flicked briefly over him, then around the room, sniffing subtly. Kenta could tell. He could feel the slight curl of confusion behind those watchful eyes, the way Jeff’s Omega instincts knew something had shifted.
But Kenta didn’t give him the chance to prod. He gave a small nod, grabbed his tablet, and turned toward the garage exit like he hadn’t started trembling five minutes ago in front of a sponsor who tried to drown him in pheromones.
The moment he closed the front door to the apartment, his body shuddered.
Their apartment.
His and Kim’s.
Spacious, urban, expensive—the one thing Kim splurged on without blinking, insisting, “If I can’t be with you every hour, at least our home should feel like I’m always holding you.”
And right now, Kenta was clawing at the walls.
His heat was coming on like a violent tide now. The earlier trigger had sent his hormones spiraling, and now that he was alone, the scent suppression pills had lost the war. His thighs were already damp with slick. His body was aching—not in passing, not mild. Deep. Heavy. Womb-deep.
His breath came in pants. He kicked off his boots. Peeled off his shirt. Slacks were next—dragged down shaky thighs, until they joined the pile by the door.
He needed to be clean.
He needed Kim.
But Kim was across the ocean, preparing for the race of his life. And Kenta refused to be the reason Kim lost focus.
Still trembling, he staggered to the bathroom.
The bathwater was scalding hot. It burned. He needed it to burn. He wanted to scrub everything off.
The sponsor’s pheromones.
The way Daichi’s voice had slithered under his skin.
The shame. The ache. The guilt.
The longing.
Slick was leaking down his thighs now, mixing with the bathwater. His hole fluttered helplessly with every pulse of heat. His skin tingled, too sensitive. Even the brush of steam against his nipples made his breath hitch.
When he finally stepped out, steam clung to his skin. He stared at himself in the mirror.
Red cheeks.
Glossy eyes.
Mouth parted in desperation.
Slick glistening between his legs.
“I’m fine,” he whispered.
But he wasn’t.
He wasn’t.
And it was about to get worse.
By the time Kenta climbed into bed, it wasn’t about pretending anymore.
He needed relief.
He sprawled on the sheets—still smelled faintly of Kim. That crisp, faint citrus and the addictive scent that was uniquely Alpha-Kim. Comfort and command in one breath.
Kenta moaned softly, spine arching.
His fingers reached down between his legs, trembling as he dipped into the slick pooling at his entrance. His inner walls clenched—desperate, slick and swollen with need.
“Kim…” he whispered, eyes fluttering shut.
And then he imagined it.
It started with Kim’s voice.
That low, gravel-edged voice he only used when he was buried deep inside Kenta, whispering filth into his ear while fucking him within an inch of his sanity.
Kenta, baby… you’re so wet. Look at you. Clenching around nothing like a needy little thing…
Kenta gasped, two fingers slipping in, knuckles-deep.
He arched off the sheets, whimpering. “More…”
In his head, it was Kim’s hands holding his hips down. Kim’s thick cock pushing into him—slow, teasing, stretching his heat-loosened hole open like it belonged to him. Which it did. It always did.
You think you can come without me? Hah… you’re dripping, baby. Fuck. You’re melting. So pretty like this—squirming, flushed, desperate… all for my cock.
Kenta added a third finger. His body sucked them in greedily, muscles fluttering around the intrusion.
He imagined Kim’s lips on his neck, his tongue running down his chest to those swollen, sensitive nipples. Kim loved his tits. Could spend hours on them—licking, teasing, sucking them raw.
Kenta arched again, fingers curling against the spot inside that made stars explode behind his eyes.
“Kim—ngh, fuck—!”
He could feel Kim’s mouth, warm and greedy, closing over one nipple, suckling while his other hand played with the other. Pulling. Flicking. Abusing them until they turned red and needy. Kim would groan low in his throat, obsessed with how Kenta would moan and cry from just that stimulation.
And then came the tongue.
That fucking tongue.
In his mind, Kim spread his ass open and dragged his tongue over his slick, twitching hole—lazily, almost cruelly slow. Kenta imagined him licking in, sucking his hole like it was dessert, then tongue-fucking him like he was trying to fuck his soul out.
His body jerked.
The sheets were soaked with sweat and slick now. He was shaking, fingering himself faster, deeper, chasing an orgasm that just wouldn’t come. It wasn’t enough. Not without the real thing. Not without Kim’s mouth, Kim’s cock, Kim’s voice—
“Ahh—fuck! Kim, please—!”
Tears stung his eyes. His body was locked in a heatwave of overstimulation and unmet need. His entrance clenched around his own fingers like they weren’t good enough. Like they knew it wasn’t his Alpha.
Kenta sobbed. “It’s not—enough—it’s not—Kim—”
And just as he started to break—heat-dazed, drenched in slick, fingers still buried inside him—his phone on the nightstand buzzed once.
Incoming Video Call: Kim ❤️
Back in Singapore, Kim had been in the middle of a strategy meeting with North, Babe, and Charlie when it happened.
Something snapped inside him.
Not his head. His body.
It was like a string had been cut, or like he suddenly couldn’t breathe. A chill raced down his spine, despite the heat in the conference room. His nose twitched—his scent spiked involuntarily, and all the Alphas around him noticed it.
North frowned. “You good, bro?”
Kim didn’t answer.
He knew.
Something’s wrong.
His Omega—his mate—was in heat.
His phone was out before anyone could stop him. He hit video call, stepping out of the room without waiting for anyone’s response.
It rang twice.
Then—
The screen lit up.
Kenta.
Kenta, heat-flushed, lips parted in a pant. Hair sticking to his face. His chest was rising and falling fast, one hand gripping the sheets and the other still buried deep inside himself, knuckles-deep and dripping with slick. His thighs were open, trembling, his hole pulsing around his fingers like it was aching for something bigger.
“Kenta—!”
The moment Kim’s voice came through the speaker, Kenta’s dazed eyes lifted. Pupils blown wide. Mouth parted in the smallest, broken moan.
“…Kim.”
Kim’s world slowed to a stop.
The screen in his hand felt too small to contain what he was seeing—like it couldn’t possibly do justice to the vision of his Omega trembling on their bed, slick-slick sheets, flushed skin glowing under the low light of their shared bedroom.
Kenta was ruined. But beautiful in a way Kim had never seen before, even after all the times he’d taken him apart with his mouth and hands and cock. There was something raw about this—pure, unfiltered want.
He was panting, fingers still knuckle-deep inside himself, legs spread wide, body glistening. His eyes blinked slowly, glassy and heat-hazed, but they locked onto Kim through the screen like a lifeline.
“…Kim,” Kenta whispered, lips pink and parted, glistening from where he’d been mouthing your name. “You’re… really here…”
Kim’s mouth parted slightly, brain short-circuiting.
“Fucking—shit, baby…”
His Alpha instincts roared. Something primal surged inside him. He nearly dropped his phone in his rush to get out of the hallway. His teammates’ voices faded behind him—someone called his name, but he didn’t answer. He ducked into the elevator, eyes glued to his phone as Kenta gave another soft moan and rolled his hips, fingers thrusting slow and deep.
Kim could see everything.
The flushed swell of Kenta’s cock, heavy and leaking against his stomach. The slick dripping from his stretched hole. His trembling thighs. His ruined, reddened nipples that just begged to be sucked.
The second Kim made it into his hotel room, he locked the door behind him with a slam, throwing his duffel aside.
“Kenta—fuck—what the hell,” he breathed, finally able to sit, chest rising and falling as he stared at his mate. “You should’ve told me.”
“I didn’t want…” Kenta blinked, cheeks pinker now—shy, even in the middle of his heat. “Didn’t want to distract you. Two more days and your race—your career—”
“Fuck the race,” Kim growled.
But Kenta shook his head, gently, slowly. “No. You’ve worked too hard. You deserve this. I can… I can do this, Kim. Just stay. Stay on the call. Please.”
Kim swallowed hard.
The ache in his chest was unbearable. He’d never wanted to touch someone so badly in his life.
“I’m here,” he murmured, voice low now. “I’m here, baby.”
Kenta moaned softly in relief.
Then—after a few heartbeats, a pause that nearly made Kim come undone—Kenta whispered, “Will you help me?”
Kim’s mouth went dry.
“Say it again.”
Kenta licked his lips, gaze lowering. “Help me. Alpha. Please.”
Kim exhaled slowly, hand palming his already aching cock through his jeans.
“Do you have your toy?” he asked, voice rough.
Kenta nodded and shifted weakly to the bedside drawer, slick already coating his inner thighs. He pulled out the thick silicone dildo—black, heavy, with a wide curved head. Kim had bought it for him, specially molded after his own cock. Kenta never used it without him.
“God, baby… good boy.” Kim leaned back, spreading his legs, letting the camera catch the outline of his hard-on. “Let me see you. All of you.”
Kenta adjusted the phone on the pillow stand, laying back so Kim could watch every second.
“Lube it up,” Kim instructed, voice firm now, dominant. “Coat it. I wanna see it wet before it goes anywhere near that greedy hole.”
Kenta obeyed with trembling hands, pouring lube over the toy, shuddering at the cool slide against his palm. He stroked it slowly, imagining it was Kim’s cock, heavy and warm in his hand.
“That’s it. Now spread your legs. Show me how desperate you are.”
Kenta moaned softly and let his legs fall open, wide and shameless, revealing the fluttering pink hole still slick from earlier.
Kim groaned. “Fuck, look at you. My pretty little Omega. Just dripping.”
Kenta flushed all the way to his ears.
“Push the tip in,” Kim said, tone dropping low. “Slow. I wanna see you stretch.”
Kenta whimpered and guided the dildo between his cheeks, letting the wide head press against his rim. It popped inside with resistance, his hole already needy and twitching.
“Nnngh—Kim—”
Kim cursed under his breath. “That’s it. Push it deeper. Let it fuck you, baby. Just like I would.”
Kenta gasped, hips rolling as the toy slid halfway in, then all the way, until his hole was swallowing it greedily. He spread his cheeks with both hands, letting Kim see how he clenched around it, walls pulsing like they were begging for more.
“Goddamn,” Kim breathed. “You miss me that much?”
Kenta nodded, biting his lip. “It’s not the same—it’s too soft—it’s not you—”
“I know, baby. I know.” Kim’s voice softened briefly. “But I’m here. I’m watching. And you’re doing so fucking good for me.”
Kenta’s hips rocked. The toy slid in and out, slow and slick and obscene.
“Now pinch your nipples for me,” Kim whispered. “You know how I love them. Pretend it’s my mouth. My teeth.”
Kenta whimpered, one hand reaching up to squeeze a hardened nipple. His back arched violently. “Fuck—!”
“Good,” Kim growled. “Tweak the other. Hard. I wanna hear you moan when you do.”
Kenta obeyed, both hands now working his chest, moaning like a bitch in heat. The toy rocked inside him with each movement, his body so close to the edge but still unsatisfied.
“You’re such a perfect mess for me,” Kim murmured, unzipping his jeans now, stroking his cock off-screen. “Bet you wanna be filled, huh? Wanna feel my knot inside that slutty hole?”
“Yes—yes, Kim, please—”
“You’ll take it, right? Take everything I give you? Milk my cock ‘til your belly’s full and you can’t think?”
Kenta cried out, fucking the toy faster. His thighs were shaking. His belly tight. His body on fire.
“Please—fuck, Kim—I’m close—I want it—I want you—”
And Kim, eyes wild, voice hoarse, ordered, “Then fuck yourself. Like I’m there. Like I’m pounding you into the mattress.”
Kenta obeyed.
Hard.
Toy slamming into him now, obscene sounds filling the room. His moans were wrecked, raw. His hole sucked the toy in with a wet pop each time it plunged deep.
He was chanting Kim’s name now—desperate, begging, shaking.
“Kim—fuck—Kim—! I—can’t—!”
Kim couldn’t hold back anymore.
Watching Kenta—his Omega, his everything—splayed out on their bed, flushed and soaked in his own slick, riding that toy like it was all he had left in the world… it was breaking him apart.
He yanked his jeans down, cock springing free—thick, flushed, dripping precum from the tip already. It was painfully hard, girthy, and angry-looking from being neglected. His knot wasn’t fully formed, but the base was already swelling, tightening with every slick sound Kenta made through the phone speaker.
Kenta saw it on his screen and moaned, eyes flickering low to watch Kim slowly wrap his hand around it.
“Fuck,” Kim grunted, fisting himself slowly, showing it off. “Look at how hard you’ve made me, baby.”
Kenta licked his lips, pupils dilated. He knew exactly what that cock felt like—how it filled him past reason, how it caught at every sensitive nerve when Kim drove it in deep, slow and rough. He loved sucking Kim off, loved how his mouth struggled to take the whole thing, how the Alpha’s cock felt like it swelled the more he sucked.
And Kim knew.
“Kenta,” Kim growled lowly, voice thick with lust, “Take the dildo out.”
Kenta whimpered but obeyed. He pulled the slick-coated toy out of his hole slowly, gasping at the wet pop as it left him. His hole clenched helplessly, twitching at the emptiness, still fluttering with want.
“Now suck it.”
Kenta’s face burned in embarrassment and lust, but he nodded, bringing the toy up to his mouth. It glistened with his slick, and as he wrapped his lips around the tip, Kim groaned—long and low, his hand stroking his cock in slow, hard pulls.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Kim whispered. “Pretend it’s me. My cock in your mouth. You love it, don’t you?”
Kenta moaned around the silicone, tongue lapping up his own slick as he suckled the thick head. He bobbed down slowly, eyes fluttering shut, cheeks hollowing out as he took more of it in—muffled sounds vibrating in his throat.
“You look so fucking pretty like that,” Kim said breathlessly. “That filthy little mouth of yours made for my cock. I can almost feel it, baby. The way you moan when I get deeper. How you press your tongue to the underside…”
Kenta slipped three fingers into his hole again, fucking himself slowly as he kept sucking the toy. His whole body trembled—dripping, heat-soaked, overwhelmed. His cock throbbed untouched, leaking precum onto his lower belly.
He gagged softly as he pushed deeper, lips stretched around the dildo, nose pressed into the base.
Kim’s hand was moving faster now, his breath ragged. “That’s it. Take me. God, I wish I was there—I’d fuck your mouth until you’re drooling, begging, until you can’t breathe unless it’s around my cock.”
Kenta’s eyes rolled back, moaning helplessly. Drool slipped down his chin, mixing with the slick on the toy.
“Now—put it back,” Kim ordered, voice shaking. “Stuff yourself again. I wanna see that needy hole swallow it whole.”
Kenta gasped as he pulled the toy from his lips and repositioned it, lifting his hips as he straddled it over the mattress.
Kim’s breath caught as Kenta slowly lowered himself down.
The thick head slid in with resistance—his hole already loose but still twitching, and then deeper, until Kenta let out a choked, gasping moan. He kept going, hips sinking, until the dildo was buried all the way up to the base. Just the wide, black base was visible beneath his ass.
“F-Fuck—fuck, Kim—!” Kenta trembled violently. “It’s—so deep—!”
His body shook, thighs quivering as he tried to balance, slick absolutely pouring down the toy. His hole pulsed greedily around it, clenching, as if trying to milk it.
Kim’s mouth dropped open. “Holy fuck, baby…”
Kenta’s head fell back, eyes glassy, mouth agape in ecstasy.
“Feels like you,” he whimpered. “So full—it’s stretching me—I can’t—!”
“Move,” Kim growled. “Ride it. Show me how bad you need me.”
Kenta started grinding his hips, slow at first. Every shift made the toy angle deeper inside him, dragging against his swollen, heat-sensitive walls. His cock bounced with every movement, his nipples red and pebbled, begging for attention.
He reached up and tweaked them hard, crying out.
“Oh god—Kim—!”
Slick was everywhere. On his thighs. Pooling on the sheets. Dripping down the dildo. His abs trembled with the strain, and he was shaking from how hard he was trying not to come yet—because it wasn’t enough.
Kim was panting now, fist tight around his cock, his other hand gripping the edge of the table he was seated on. “You’re driving me crazy, baby. Look at you. Drooling on yourself, eyes rolling back—fucking yourself so good.”
“Not—enough—” Kenta sobbed, body shaking violently. “Need—you—”
Kim nearly came from that.
His Omega—writhing on a toy, begging for his cock, soaked and wrecked and trembling—was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Kenta’s body jolted as he hit a spot inside him, his spine arching. His hands clawed at his thighs as he tried to hold himself up.
Kim groaned. “Fucking ride it, baby. Break on it. Show me what you look like when you’re falling apart.”
Kenta was unraveling.
The dildo was buried deep, his thighs trembling around it as he rocked his hips in tight, desperate little circles. Every shift made the toy drag over his swollen, heat-slick walls, grazing that maddening spot inside him again and again until his whole body was electric.
His eyes rolled back.
Drool slid messily from his open mouth, down his chin, catching at the base of his throat where sweat and heat flushed his skin pink. His hands clutched at his thighs, fingernails digging in. His whole body was glowing—ruined, breathtaking, overwhelmed.
“Kim—” he gasped, voice raw and nearly broken. “I—I can’t—”
“You can,” Kim growled low through the screen. His own breath was ragged, face flushed, cock fisting in his hand in steady, hungry pumps. “You’ve been so good for me, baby. Look at you… fuck… riding it like a good Omega. Like it’s me. Like you need to be filled.”
“I do—I do—!” Kenta sobbed, back arching violently. “Need your cock—need to feel your knot—need your scent on me—I miss you—Alpha—!”
The word Alpha slipped from Kenta’s lips like a prayer, and Kim broke.
His hand worked faster, thick cock dripping precum, veins bulging. His knot was swelling now, fat and heavy at the base, aching with the need to tie. His abs flexed, his thighs tensing with every thrust of his hand.
“You’re perfect,” Kim groaned. “The way you ride—fuck, baby—you’re milking that toy like it’s my cock. You want it, huh? Wanna be tied? Wanna feel me fill you up ‘til it leaks out around the knot?”
Kenta screamed—a wet, helpless cry that ripped from his throat. His body arched, riding the dildo hard and messy now, bouncing with reckless, uncoordinated need.
“I’m gonna—Kim—I’m—!”
“Come for me, baby,” Kim gasped, eyes locked on the screen as his own orgasm chased down his spine like fire. “Show me how pretty you are when you come for your Alpha. I’m right here—I’m with you—come.”
Kenta shattered.
His whole body convulsed as the orgasm tore through him—violent, wet, devastating. His cock pulsed and shot thick ribbons of cum up his chest, all the way to his throat. His nipples were red and hard, thighs locking as his hole fluttered violently around the buried toy, milking it for something it couldn’t give.
He cried out—sobbed—his voice cracking in the middle of Kim’s name.
“Kim—fuck—! I—miss you—I need—!”
Tears slipped down his cheeks as the wave kept hitting him. His orgasm wouldn’t stop—wouldn’t end—his body trembling like it was trying to make up for the distance between them.
And that broke Kim.
With a low groan, Kim came—thick ropes of cum spilling over his hand, abs, and thighs, knot throbbing against his palm as he rode out the high. His breath stuttered, his vision blurred, and for a moment, it hurt—like the pleasure was too much, too empty, without Kenta beneath him.
He leaned back against the hotel wall, gasping, sweaty, trembling, heart hammering in his chest.
Kenta was still moving faintly on the other side of the screen. The dildo still deep inside him. Tears staining his cheeks. His chest rising and falling with heavy, unsteady breaths. Cum covered his front. Slick was everywhere.
And despite everything—he was smiling.
A soft, broken, relieved smile.
“I miss you,” he whispered, barely audible.
Kim swallowed hard, chest aching.
“Fuck, baby,” he whispered back, his voice shaking. “I miss you too.”
Silence.
Their phones sat propped up now. No movement. Just the sight of each other—panting, flushed, spent, raw.
And still tethered. Still burning for each other.
“I’ll come home right after the race,” Kim promised, voice hoarse but sure. “The moment it’s over. I’ll take the first flight back and knot you so deep we won’t need toys for a year.”
Kenta laughed softly, teary and tired. “Good. Because I’m never doing that without you again.”
Kim smiled back.
“You won’t have to.”
-
The roar of engines was deafening.
The air smelled of oil, smoke, and burning rubber.
Singapore’s heat clung to the tarmac like a second skin.
But inside the cockpit, Kim felt nothing but purpose.
Helmet strapped. Gloves tight.
Pulse steady—but the moment his fingers gripped the wheel, he was gone.
Nothing else existed except the track and one impossible, aching thought:
Kenta.
Waiting for him.
In heat.
Alone.
Calling his name.
Fucking himself with a toy because Kim wasn’t there.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, jaw clenching. His visor fogged slightly.
The image of Kenta—mouth open, thighs slick, eyes glassy with heat, sobbing his name—had haunted his dreams. He hadn’t slept properly since that call. Every waking moment since had been spent with one single, burning mantra in his veins:
Win.
So I can go home.
Win.
So I can fuck my Omega like he deserves.
Win.
So he’ll never spend another heat alone again.
“Racers ready.”
“Five. Four. Three…”
Kim’s fingers flexed.
The world narrowed.
“…Two. One—GO!”
The lights blinked out. Tires screeched.
Kim launched off the start line.
He wasn’t the fastest off the mark.
Charlie took the inside. North was already biting at the front pack like a shark, smooth and brutal. The field was packed with international racers—many of them aggressive, seasoned Alphas who didn’t care who you were.
But Kim didn’t care either.
His focus was surgical.
He felt every inch of the car as if it were a limb—leaning into turns, grazing the edges of risk with one hand on the wheel and one thought in his chest:
Kenta.
Every time he shifted gears, he imagined pushing Kenta’s legs wider.
Every time he overtook, he imagined slamming into his Omega’s heat-soft body.
When the tires screeched around the fourth turn, he swore he could hear Kenta moaning.
His mate was calling to him.
And he answered.
By lap 6, Kim had climbed to second place.
By lap 9, he was side by side with the lead car, a French Alpha who’d dominated the circuit all season.
But Kim had something he didn’t:
A mate.
In heat.
Begging.
Wrecked.
His.
He could feel Kenta’s need like a second heartbeat beneath his own.
Adrenaline surged. His scent spiked in the cockpit—sharp, possessive, alpha-deep and wild. The French driver glanced toward him as they entered the hairpin—
Too late.
Kim cut inside with brutal precision.
His tires kissed the edge of the track. Any less control, he would’ve spun out. But he didn’t. Because the hunger in his veins wasn’t for a trophy.
It was for his Omega.
Final lap.
The engine screamed.
Every curve, every corner blurred.
His name thundered in the crowd, but he couldn’t hear them.
He only heard one voice:
“Kim—! Need you—Alpha—please—”
His cock was already half-hard in the seat from the memory.
He slammed through the final straight, teeth bared behind his helmet.
“I’m coming, baby.”
He crossed the finish line first.
Cheers erupted.
Flashes of camera lights. Team X-Hunter shouting from the pit wall. Alan yelling. Babe throwing something in the air. Sonic hugging North so hard they both nearly fell.
But Kim didn’t stop. Didn’t smile.
He tore off his helmet, panting.
Steam rose from the hood. His heart beat like a war drum.
“Where’s my fucking phone?” he barked.
A crew member shoved it into his hand.
Kim walked away from the chaos, behind the paddock, heart thundering.
He didn’t even wait for the call to fully connect.
Just opened his messages. Hit video.
Ring.
Ring.
Connect.
And there he was.
Kenta.
Still in bed, the sheets soaked through, body bare and trembling from aftershocks.
His skin glowed with sweat. His chest rose and fell.
He looked up at the screen—eyes locking with Kim’s.
Soft.
Vulnerable.
So goddamn beautiful.
“Kim…” he whispered, voice still hoarse from moaning too hard the night before.
Kim grinned—wild, raw, victorious.
“I won.”
Kenta’s lips parted.
Kim’s voice dropped.
“I’m packing my things. I’ll be on the next flight home.
And when I get there…”
He leaned in closer to the camera, voice low and hungry.
“…I’m going to make you forget what loneliness ever felt like.”
The door clicked open.
Kim stepped inside.
And froze.
His suitcase dropped to the floor with a dull thud, forgotten instantly. His pupils dilated. Breath caught.
Because the scent hit him—hard.
It was thick in the air, a heat-honeyed cloud that clung to every inch of the apartment. Sweet and sharp, heavy with slick and sex and Kenta. It smelled like home and desperation all at once.
Kim staggered.
His knees nearly buckled under the weight of it.
The scent wasn’t just heat. It was need. His Omega’s raw, untouched longing had soaked the walls, the sheets, the very air. It was sweet at the top—like wild nectar—and feral underneath, slick-slick musk that reeked of denied orgasm and ruined sanity.
Every Alpha instinct in Kim snapped.
Any other Alpha who stepped through that door would’ve dropped to all fours and begged for the privilege of licking Kenta’s hole clean. Would’ve lost their fucking mind. Would’ve fought for him.
And Kim?
He growled.
Low. Deep. Primal.
Mine.
His cock swelled in his jeans instantly, knot already half-forming, blood roaring with the scent of his Omega drenched in sweat and slick, likely still writhing in bed.
He kicked his shoes off and stalked inside.
The hallway reeked of sex. The floor tiles bore faint smears of scent slick that had likely dripped down Kenta’s trembling thighs. The light was low. Curtains drawn. The bedroom door slightly ajar—like Kenta had left it open on purpose.
Kim didn’t knock.
He didn’t call out.
He simply entered.
There he was.
Kenta.
Bare. Sprawled on the sheets, twisted in sweat-damp blankets. Thighs parted. Ass slightly lifted by a pillow beneath his hips. His cock lay soft against his stomach, spent from orgasms, but his hole—
Fuck.
Kim saw it.
Swollen. Wet. Glistening.
Still twitching, fluttering open slightly like it was searching for something—someone.
Him.
Kenta shifted, still in a daze from the previous night, eyes half-lidded.
And then he saw Kim.
And whimpered.
“Alpha…”
Kim was already walking, shirt torn off mid-step, his skin flushed, body pulsing with raw possession.
“You were waiting for me like this?” he growled, voice low and ruined. “Hole open. Dripping. Bed soaked in slick.”
Kenta flushed all the way down to his chest. “I—Kim—couldn’t help it—”
“You think I can look at this—” Kim reached the bed, dragging a hand along the curve of Kenta’s thigh, fingers grazing the glistening heat of his entrance, “—and not lose my mind?”
Kenta gasped, hips jerking.
Kim’s voice dropped.
“You were made to be fucked, baby. And I’m gonna remind your body what it really means to be filled.”
Then he dropped to his knees.
Kim manhandled Kenta’s thighs up and apart, wide enough to expose every ruined inch of his heat-slicked ass. Kenta’s hole was swollen, pulsing, so wet it was leaking onto the sheets again, like it had sensed its Alpha was home.
And Kim didn’t hesitate.
He dived in.
Tongue flat and wide, he licked a stripe from Kenta’s taint up to the fluttering rim, then circled it slowly, making Kenta’s whole body jolt.
“F-Fuck—Kim—!”
Kim groaned against him. “You taste like you’ve been thinking about me all week.”
And then he sucked.
His mouth sealed over the pink, trembling entrance and devoured. He didn’t tease. He didn’t build up. He ravaged.
His tongue speared into Kenta with fast, relentless thrusts—twisting, pressing, tasting everything. He moaned into it, the vibrations making Kenta’s thighs quiver violently. He spit into the hole, then slurped it back up like a starved man.
“Oh fuck—Kim—!” Kenta screamed, fists clawing the sheets, back arching so hard it nearly broke him.
His hole pulsed, fluttering around Kim’s tongue.
Kim dug his nails into Kenta’s hips to hold him still.
“Stay open,” he growled. “I’m not done with you.”
He spread Kenta wider and tongue-fucked him brutally—burying his face, nose flush to Kenta’s ass, tongue driving in and out until Kenta was sobbing.
“I—Kim—I’m gonna—fuck—I can’t—!”
Kenta’s cock was twitching, untouched. His nipples were hard, his thighs were trembling, and his body was locking up—
And then it hit.
Kenta convulsed.
His orgasm tore through him like a thunderclap. His whole body spasmed—legs kicking, mouth open in a silent scream, hole pulsing uncontrollably around Kim’s tongue. Cum spilled from his cock in thick, desperate spurts across his stomach and chest.
He cried.
Overwhelmed. Wrung out. Breathless.
Kim didn’t stop. He lapped through it—drinking it down, tongue flicking against the sensitive rim until Kenta twitched violently and begged for mercy.
“Alpha—Alpha—I’m gonna pass out—”
Kim finally pulled back, lips glistening, jaw wet with slick and spit.
His eyes were wild.
“You’re not passing out yet,” he growled, climbing onto the bed, cock fully out now—thick, throbbing, feral. “I haven’t even knotted you.”
Kenta’s breath hitched as Kim crawled over him—
Heavy. Solid. All muscle and scent.
Still dripping from his own mouth, Alpha slick covering his chin and jaw, scent marking everything he’d touched.
Kenta blinked up at him, eyes already dazed and wet from the orgasm that had just shattered him.
He had nothing left in his body.
Nothing but need.
Kim’s cock pressed against his inner thigh, hard and hot, vein-thick and angry, with a knot already swelling at the base—heavy, pulsing.
Kenta gasped, hips twitching toward it.
His body moved on instinct now. The leftover heat still simmered in his core—weak, residual, but it clung to Kim’s scent like a fire waiting for fuel.
“Alpha,” he whimpered, voice raw and spent.
“I know,” Kim growled. “I know, baby. I’ve got you now.”
He didn’t prep him again.
Didn’t need to.
Kenta’s hole was already open and slick, stretched and ruined from the toy, his own fingers, and Kim’s tongue. It was red, begging. Sobbing slick with every pulse.
Kim pressed the head of his cock to it, hissing low.
“You still dripping for me?” he rasped, rubbing the fat tip against the rim, smearing precum and leftover slick in messy circles.
Kenta nodded, body trembling, legs falling open even wider.
“Then take me.”
He pushed in.
Slow at first. The head caught on the rim, then popped inside with a thick, wet sound. Kenta’s back arched, moaning immediately.
“F-Fuck—!”
Kim grit his teeth as he eased in deeper—inch after inch of thick Alpha cock sinking into that greedy, clenching heat. His knot dragged slightly at the entrance, but he held off. Not yet. He wanted to wreck him first.
“Missed this,” Kim growled, voice tight. “Missed your fucking body. So tight. So warm.”
He bottomed out—hips flush to Kenta’s ass—and stilled.
Kenta was panting. Arms shaking. His chest was flushed and wet from earlier, lips kiss-bitten and trembling.
“You okay?”
Kenta moaned softly. “Yeah… just—just do it, Kim. Please.”
Kim’s grip tightened on his thighs.
“Don’t fucking beg unless you mean it.”
“I do,” Kenta gasped. “I want—need—fuck me until I pass out—”
That was all it took.
Kim snapped.
He drew back and slammed forward—rough, punishing.
The bed frame creaked.
Kenta screamed.
Again. Again. Again.
Kim fucked into him like he was chasing something—chest heaving, growling through gritted teeth, hips snapping with desperate speed.
The sound of skin slapping, slick squelching, and Kenta’s broken moans filled the room.
“Missed this hole,” Kim snarled, leaning over him now, one hand braced by Kenta’s head, the other gripping his thigh tight enough to bruise. “Missed how it sucks me in.”
“Missed you—missed your cock—fuck—so deep, Kim—”
“I should’ve been here,” Kim groaned. “Should’ve had you spread open like this every night of your heat—stuffed and dripping.”
“You will,” Kenta gasped. “Next time—next time never leave—”
Kim crushed their mouths together, messy and harsh, teeth clashing. Kenta moaned into it, tongue clinging, body arching with every thrust.
And then—
Kim’s knot pressed to his rim.
Fat. Swollen. Demanding.
Kenta’s eyes widened.
“Kim—fuck—it’s—!”
“You want it?” Kim whispered against his mouth. “Want to be tied like the good little Omega you are?”
Kenta whimpered. Nodded fast. “Yes—yes—please—”
“Then fucking take it.”
With a final brutal thrust, Kim forced his knot in—
And Kenta screamed.
His body clamped down hard around Kim’s cock, convulsing. Back arched. His hole stretched around the knot until it locked, sealing them together with a wet, obscene pop.
Kenta’s eyes rolled back.
He came again—harder than before.
Cum shot between them, his whole body seizing in overstimulation.
“Kim—!”
Kim followed—his roar low and Alpha-deep as he came, knot pulsing, cock twitching inside the tight, wringing heat.
His cum spilled deep, filling Kenta’s belly with heat and pressure and possession.
They stayed locked like that—bodies trembling, sweat mingling, slick soaking the sheets.
Kenta’s limbs gave out. His body collapsed beneath Kim, breath hitching.
“I—can’t—see,” he slurred faintly, eyes unfocused.
Kim laughed weakly, still catching his breath.
“Blacked out on my knot, huh?”
Kenta whined softly.
Kim brushed his fingers through his damp hair, kissing his temple.
“Good boy,” he murmured. “You did so fucking good.”
Kenta stirred slowly.
He was still hazy, body spent and floating. The air was warm, dim. Everything smelled like Kim—Alpha musk, shampoo, and that subtle citrus undertone that clung to his mate’s skin like a mark of ownership. His entire lower half ached, hips heavy and loose from being stretched and knotted so deeply that he could still feel the echo of it inside him.
When he blinked open his eyes, he was no longer on the bed.
He was cradled in Kim’s lap—both of them naked, bodies damp, surrounded by gentle steam.
The bath.
Kim had run a warm soak for them both, holding Kenta close, his strong arms wrapped gently but firmly around his waist, as if Kenta might disappear if he let go.
Kenta turned his head slightly, cheek resting against Kim’s bare shoulder.
Kim was pressing slow, reverent kisses into the side of his head, breathing him in over and over. His heart was pounding, not from arousal now—but from something else. Something heavier. Something that burned behind the Alpha’s eyes when Kenta finally looked up at him.
“…Kim?”
Kim’s jaw clenched.
“I’m so fucking sorry.”
Kenta blinked. “What—?”
“I should’ve never left you alone during your heat,” Kim whispered, voice thick with guilt. “I knew it was coming. I thought we had time. I thought you’d be okay for a few days, and I was so focused on that race—on my career—but the second I saw you like that… alone… in our bed, crying, slick everywhere—” His voice broke. “It killed me.”
Kenta didn’t answer at first. Just listened. Felt.
Kim cupped his face now, lifting it slightly so their eyes met. “You should never have to touch yourself like that. You should never have to beg for a screen. I’m your Alpha. Your mate. It’s my job to take care of you, and I wasn’t there.”
“You couldn’t be,” Kenta said softly, lips trembling. “You were racing for your dream. I didn’t want to ruin that.”
Kim shook his head, eyes glinting with pain. “No dream matters if you’re suffering alone, Kenta.”
He kissed him then—slow, tender. Lips brushing with deep, aching apology.
“I swear,” Kim whispered against his lips, “on my life, on us—I’ll never leave again during your heat. No matter what. I’ll plan my whole fucking season around it if I have to. I’ll cancel sponsorship meetings, decline races—I don’t care. You come first.”
Kenta’s eyes filled with tears.
“Don’t cry, baby,” Kim whispered, thumb brushing them away as they spilled. “You don’t have to be strong for me anymore. Not with me.”
Kenta buried his face in Kim’s neck, body curling inward like something small and safe.
“I missed you so much,” he choked. “It hurt. Everything hurt. And the worst part wasn’t the heat—it was waking up and you weren’t there. I needed you.”
“I know,” Kim murmured, pulling him closer. “I know, baby. And I’ll spend every day making that up to you.”
They stayed there in the tub for a long time—limbs tangled, warm water soothing the ache in their muscles. Kim massaged Kenta’s thighs gently, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder, his jaw, his temple. He whispered quiet reassurances:
“I’m here.”
“You’re safe.”
“I’ve got you now.”
By the time they dried off and got into bed, Kenta was swaddled in Kim’s hoodie, tucked beneath his arm, head resting over Kim’s heart. The scent of heat had faded now, replaced with calm, sleepy intimacy.
Kim stared at the ceiling, fingers threading through Kenta’s damp hair.
“I’m going to build you a heat nest,” he said suddenly.
Kenta stirred. “…What?”
“A real one. Bigger. Safer. I’ll scent every pillow, every blanket. I’ll put blackout curtains. Stock it with water bottles, snacks, towels, lube, your meds. And I’m going to be in it with you. Every hour. Every second.”
Kenta let out a small laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
Kim turned to face him, eyes serious. “I mean it.”
“I know.” Kenta smiled, sleepy now. “That’s what scares me.”
Kim kissed him again, slow and grounding.
“You’re mine, Kenta,” he whispered. “And I’m never letting you spend another night alone again.”