Chapter Text
It starts with a picture.
An innocent notification that pops up like a bubble on Rumi’s phone. The green icon shimmers with a red bubble that screams like a vibrant little pick-me message as she stares down at her screen. Rumi’s lips begin to curve into a smile, an automatic response as she sees Mira’s contact name sitting at the top.
(Blissfully unaware that this simple picture is what starts a diabolically sinful chain of events leading up to the next few weeks.)
Rumi and Zoey are at a well-known hair salon that caters to A-list clientele, both finishing up their morning appointments. The occasion: a glamorous fashion gala Huntrix had been invited to during fashion week. It’s a luxurious event with plenty of networking to be done with the amount of extravagant powerhouse name brands attending.
It’s not for a few more weeks, smack in the middle of next month. But all this time allows them to prep, to build the hype of Huntrix’s appearance.
Celine had suggested a little makeover and Rumi happily agreed; although it’s been her brand, she was ready for a new change. Saying goodbye to the braid had taken a heavy moment—part of her identity involved that signature braid, but Rumi felt ready to move on with a new chapter of her life—and then her silky purple locks transformed into a stunning, short wolfcut style. It fits her so well, and Rumi grins back at her reflection, nonchalant roguish charm oozing out of her as her lips curl back, a glint of fangs peeking out.
She feels lighter, physically and metaphorically. Who knew cutting all that hair off would make her feel like a new person!
Zoey had cradled Rumi’s face with her hands and called her a perfect alpha. And Rumi had blushed and giggled, giddy at the compliment from her mate.
Zoey had tagged along to get her hair trimmed as well, and now she’s grinning and preening like some sort of exotic bird. Rumi would be laughing if she weren’t so starstruck and enamored with Zoey’s new styled look: Zoey’s iconic twin buns are situated loosely at the top of her head, but the new change are the dark black locks curling right above her shoulder blades, a subtle change that makes all the difference. It’s casual yet chic and Rumi can count the number of times Zoey has let her hair down in public on one hand. It feels even more significant this time.
Back to Mira’s text though. Rumi hums as she stands still, her finger hovering over the message, only pausing when she hears footsteps padding her way.
“Rumiiii, ready to go?” Zoey approaches from behind, her hands snaking around Rumi’s waist as they end up in a back hug. Her scent, citrus and sandalwood, curls around Rumi’s figure like a warm hug. Rumi pumps out her own pheromones to greet her mate, ocean breeze and vanilla blooming quietly to meet the other alpha. Zoey’s chin rests on her shoulder, a brilliant grin on her face as presses a kiss to the curving swirl of a pattern exposed by Rumi’s bold tank top. Her lips linger, admiring the jagged lightning shape.
It flickers gold from the affection, making Zoey preen at the response. “Cute.” She mutters.
“Yeah, I'm ready. Mira sent a message.” Rumi holds her phone up, their group chat coming into view.
“Open it!” Zoey bounces with excitement, her hands squeezing playfully at Rumi’s waist.
Rumi clicks on the message, and then there’s a simultaneous whoosh of air that collectively leaves their lungs as a photo loads up:
Mira is sprawled on the bed sheets, lying on her stomach like an embodiment of soft desire and elegant seduction. Temptation becomes her, effortless with her long limbs and slender frame. Pink hair fans outward on the pillows, a waterfall of silk cascading on soft white bed sheets. The bedroom lights are bright above her, radiant golden light reflecting off Mira’s smooth skin and toned muscles; the culmination of an impeccable skincare routine, grueling hunter training, and a rigorous workout set in the gym.
White button-up shirt. A simple garment yet the fabric hugs Mira’s frame like a luxurious embrace. Soft and smooth cotton drags down the curve of her shoulder, drawing the eye to the exposed skin. Like a tease, a glimpse of what could be—of what the night holds in store for them.
A pair of black panties sits high on Mira’s hips, snug like a second skin. It’s a tantalizing sight when it’s contrasting against Mira’s sharp hip bones and the curve of her ass and the smooth plane of her thighs. The picture-perfect definition of sex appeal. A half-clothed tease that promises more.
And there, lying between the hem of the shirt and the curve of the waistband, are flickers of iridescent colors that boldly peek out. They swim up the curve of Mira’s hips, gracefully crawling up the dancer’s sides—languid jolts of prismatic ink that mirror Rumi’s patterns—caressing the dip of her waist much like Rumi does when they’re lounging together. They’re beautiful, a mark of her lover engraved by permanent ink. And it’s right there, a blatant display of love kissing Mira’s bare skin.
And as Rumi and Zoey stare at Miri’s photo with their mouths hanging, they swear they can smell their omega’s scent—Moroccan rose and manuka honey—an intoxicatingly thick, cloying sweet scent that teases their senses.
“Oh my god… she’s killing us. Does she know she’s killing us?!” Zoey sounds shrill and faint as she pulls up her phone, thumbs flying across the screen to respond to Mira.
“Yeah, I think she knows. She def knows.” Rumi swallows thickly, her hand coming up to wipe at any possible drool that may or may not have slipped out the corner of her mouth.
mirara 💘: where are my girls at?
zobaby 🐢: GODDAMN MIRA
rumiii 🐯: we went to get our hair trimmed for the gala
mirara 💘: Hurry home, I’m missing you both
zobaby 🐢: we r coming!!
mirara 💘: oh I bet
Soft heat suffuses along Rumi’s cheeks, steadily spreading to the rest of her face as she stares at the picture. She knows her ears are burning, a shade of crimson that certainly feels hot to the touch. Arousal pools down to her lower belly, molten heat dragging itself through the pathway of her veins until it coils at her core. It’s an ache that cannot be ignored, not with the way Mira looks entirely appetizing sprawled out on their bed like that.
Rumi lets out a shuddering breath leave her lips as she drinks in the sight. Her eyes are dilated, black pupils blown as wide as midnight pools, eclipsing the dark brown usually present. Her pants feel tight, cock twitching against her inner thigh the longer she stares at her phone. Alpha instincts beckon her to go home and satisfy her mate, and hearing Zoey’s subtle rumbling beside her tells Rumi that her other mate is on the same page as she is.
And speaking of—Rumi makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat as she feels a hardness poking her from behind. She glances over her shoulder and is met with a reflection of her own arousal. Zoey’s gaze flickers between Rumi’s phone and Rumi herself, her face flushed a bright shade of scarlet as she stares with her lips parted. Her pupils darken, slowly leaving a ring of brown behind, deep chocolate brown eclipsed by sheer arousal. Her head turns slowly, gaze eventually locking with Rumi’s eyes as she lets out a squeak. They can feel the semi she’s sporting in her pants, how could they not with the way it’s poking at Rumi’s backside insistently.
Amusement bubbles out of Rumi as she chuckles softly, tickled funny by how Zoey is equally affected by Mira’s weaponized beauty. “Let’s get home, shall we? Gotta take care of you both.”
“Mhmmm. Yes, please!” Zoey nods her head quickly, eagerness already seeping into her tone.
Rumi’s hand curls around Zoey’s nape, siphoning the warmth radiating off of Zoey’s skin as they bow to the salon staff before they take their leave. It’s a short walk from the salon to the car, and Rumi’s grip on her lover’s neck remains gentle yet firm in place as they settle in the backseat. Her thumb brushes back and forth against her mating bite on Zoey’s neck, knowing exactly how sensitive it feels to Zoey, but Rumi grins and doesn’t stop even when her mate shoots her a pleading look.
“Rumi…” Zoey whispers.
“Not yet. A little patience, baby.” With a quiet shush, Rumi circles her thumb along Zoey’s neck, placating her lover with a gentle brush of her scent. Zoey settles, for now.
“Take us home, please.” Rumi’s voice is clear and slightly gruff, tinged with the beginnings of arousal as she pushes the button for the partition to rise. Thank goodness for Celine and her assets of privacy-tinted cars and well-mannered chauffeurs.
The partition clicks shut with a muted sound, sealing the two alphas in a private bubble.
As the engine purrs to life and the driver begins turning the car onto the main road, Rumi turns to look at Zoey. Her girlfriend is curled into the leather seat, eyes blown wide now that have some sort of semblance of privacy to themselves. The scent of citrus and sandalwood wafts thick in the air, and Rumi smiles as she inhales, drinking in the alluring scent of her mate. Her arousal spikes with every breath she takes, until it aches in her lower belly, begging for reprieve.
“Baby.” Rumi smirks as Zoey’s gaze snaps to her with a hitch of a breath. She notes the way her lover’s hands grip at the fabric of her pants, fingers desperate for an anchor. Rumi’s gaze travels down, and she feels her own arousal pulsing low in her gut as she catches a glimpse of the tenting fabric in Zoey’s lap. “Hard already?”
“Oh, like you can speak.” Zoey huffs out a breath as her gaze dips down to Rumi’s crotch, ogling the boner in her jeans with dark, hungry eyes. The way Zoey licks her lips as she mentally undresses Rumi makes the alpha preen and chuff, her own scent pouring out to meet Zoey’s in a whirlwind of want.
“Wanna… have some fun?” Rumi’s eyes go half-lidded at the same time brown pulses gold for a second. She’s got a lazy smirk plastered on her face, desire simmering in those rich brown pools. Her voice is temptation made palpable in the small space between them, and Zoey shivers as she feels a ripple of the Honmoon brush along her skin. It elicits a wave of goosebumps across Zoey’s skin, a giggle rising to curl along the roof of the cabin.
“Oh, you sly little thing.” Zoey laughs as she slides across leather and immediately attaches herself to Rumi’s side, head leaning in to kiss Rumi square on the mouth. “Do you even have to ask?”
A hum leaves Rumi, a soft, playful and pleased sound that crawls out of her throat with every sweet kiss Zoey indulges her with. Tenderness coupled with hunger coaxes growling moans out of Rumi, and it’s only due to the privacy of the car that she allows them to slip out.
Rumi pulls back but she allows Zoey to tilt her head back and latch onto her jaw, teeth and tongue trailing a blazing path down her neck as Rumi pulls out her phone. A purr rumbles in her chest as Zoey’s fangs graze the mating bites on Rumi’s neck, nipping and tracing the indents of her own teeth with a sacred, near obsessive fervor. It feels so good. It makes Rumi groan, fingers trembling as she shoots Mira a text while Zoey sucks a bruise into the crook of her neck.
rumiii 🐯: Princess, are you waiting for us? Are you touching yourself?
mirara 💘: Mhmm, maybe
rumiii 🐯: Show me.
There’s a significant pause before Rumi receives a ping. It’s a photo of Mira, and Rumi has to suck in a breath as she takes in the sight of Mira laying on their bed on her back, her gorgeous legs pulled up to her chest to reveal that sinful pair of black panties hugging her cunt. Only this time, there is a dark patch at the center of the fabric. Slick soaks the material, causing it to cling to Mira’s pussy in turn. It’s evidence of her arousal, evidence of what she’s been doing in the few minutes since her last message—ghosting her fingertips over her panties because she thrills in being edged and strung along slowly; this, Rumi and Zoey know intimately—evidence of her want for her lovers.
Zoey lets a guttural groan leave her lips when Rumi shows her the screen, lending a voice to the lust that is coursing through their bodies.
“C’mere, baby.” Rumi’s hand lands on Zoey’s shoulder, pushing her down gently until she gets the message. Arousal curls tight in Rumi’s belly as she watches Zoey sink to her knees, her head resting in Rumi’s lap. It’s her girlfriend’s eyes that have Rumi’s breath hitching, her body vibrating in anticipation for what’s to come—pitch black eyes, a hungry gaze that wants to devour all Rumi will give her.
“God, you look so good like this, Zo.”
“Yeah? You like it when I’m here? In between your legs, unnie?” Dark eyes blink up at Rumi, and the honorific slipping from Zoey’s lips makes Rumi groan and shudder, choking as warmth floods her belly.
A soft “Fuck.” leaves Rumi as she continues staring.
Zoey’s cheek nuzzles into Rumi’s crotch, nuzzling right against the bulge in her pants; and it’s that exact image that Rumi sends to Mira.
Her phone pings not a second later, and both Rumi and Zoey share a bout of mirthful laughter at the string of expletives and emojis telling them to hurry home.
With Mira waiting for them at home, Rumi pockets her phone. They have some time before they reach the Huntrix tower, and that’s enough time for some fun between the two of them, Rumi thinks.
“I want your mouth, Zoey. Can you give me that?” Rumi cards her hand through soft black hair, fingers curling in a tight grip that effectively captures Zoey’s attention.
A low groan slips out of Zoey’s lips, her eyes momentarily closing out of bliss from the grip pulling at her hair, before she nuzzles back into Rumi’s bulge.
“Yes, yes.” She hisses as her hands scramble for Rumi’s belt, ignoring the clinking of the metal buckle as she deftly pops the button of Rumi’s pants.
“Let me suck you off, unnie. Let me put my mouth on you, Rumi.” Zoey moans as she palms Rumi’s cock over her boxers, squeezing and sliding in sensual strokes, already taken by the grip of lust. She’s eager, so turned on by the thought of Mira waiting for them at home and the prospect of having a little fun with Rumi right here and now. Her own cock throbs with desire, sinful embers catching flame in her lower belly as she glances up at Rumi, and her pulse quickens at the wave of lust glazing over her lover’s expression.
“God, you’re so hard already.” Zoey lets out a languid moan as she leans in and mouths at Rumi’s clothed cock, her eyes fluttering shut as she catches a taste of salty slick seeping through the fabric of Rumi’s underwear.
A hiss escapes Rumi as she stares down at Zoey, melting at the muted sensation of Zoey’s warm, wet mouth. She loves it when Zoey gets so eager like this, loves the way Zoey dives headfirst with her lust, uncaring of the traditional alpha standards the world tries to box them into. Zoey loves so wholly and so freely that it’s precious, and Rumi will guard that with her entire being without a doubt.
It feels good, the way Zoey laps and sucks at Rumi’s cockhead through her briefs, teasing with deft flicks of her tongue. The fabric surrounding Rumi’s head is saturated with saliva and precum, and they both moan at the lewd sight of it as Zoey laves the flat of her tongue over it in a torturously slow display of debauchery.
“Go on, baby. Show me how much you want it.” A sinful sigh leaves Rumi as she drags the hem of her boxers down with her fingertips, hissing at the feeling of cool air meeting the warm skin of her hard cock. It swings up, smacking against the skin of her navel with an obscene, wet sound. She’s already dripping, precum sliding down her shaft in slow rivulets, tracing the twin trails of glowing patterns at the base of her pelvis.
Slender fingers comb through Zoey’s hair, clutching black locks as Zoey kisses the base of her cock. Just the sight of her hard cock hovering over Zoey’s face, the way the girthy shadow falls over her lover’s face is enough to make Rumi groan out loud. She shudders at the obscenity of it, whining at how dirty it looks. The want coiling tight in her lower belly pulses with a needy ache.
“You’re so big, unnie. Perfect for my mouth.” Hot breath puffs out of Zoey’s parted lips as she curls her hand around Rumi’s cock, pumping it once, twice, a low moan slipping free on the third stroke. She can feel Rumi throbbing in her palm, can feel how hot her lover’s skin is, how needy Rumi looks as she peers down at her. Black pools swirling with lust, her mouth open and panting. Arousal drips off of Rumi’s scent, and having her mate’s attention aimed at her makes Zoey preen, makes her breathless as it stokes her own arousal.
Have you ever been turned on so much by how someone wants you? Yeah, Zoey can feel her own cock throbbing hard in her pants, so turned on by the way Rumi looks like she wants to devour her.
Zoey presses another kiss to the base of Rumi’s cock, inhaling the musk of ocean spray and vanilla deeply, falling a little bit more in love with her alpha with each breath she takes. God, she thinks Rumi’s scent is perfect. Her own instincts purr and chuff, chirping eagerly to take, take, take what her mate will give her.
Zoey’s tongue sweeps out slowly, the tip of it dragging against Rumi’s shaft in an upward lick, saliva glistening alongside the angry veins and the lightning bolt patterns that snake along the sides of Rumi’s cock. It glows gold with every pass of her tongue, and the sight makes Zoey giggle.
“Mhmm, all for you. All for that greedy little mouth of yours, baby.” Rumi purrs as she strokes at Zoey’s crown, an affectionate touch that has her lover shuddering out a breathy sigh and a needy whimper one after the other.
“All mine.” Zoey moans under her breath, eyes drooping half-lidded as she licks from base to tip. Then she’s tapping the head against the flat of her tongue, savoring the taste of her lover—tangy and salty with a hint of sweetness, the essence of Rumi dribbling down her cockhead. Her instincts flare in her eyes, arousal blowing her pupils into dilated pools of darkness. She laps at the underside, side to side swipes along the sensitive ridge of Rumi’s cockhead.
“Oh, fuck…” The vulgar slap of Rumi’s cock on Zoey’s tongue is just… so much. So obscene that it makes Rumi’s lust grow hot under her skin, simmering until she’s squirming in her seat.
The rough moan that drips out of Rumi’s mouth echoes in the space of the car, bouncing around before settling on their shoulders. Pressing down. An insistence to indulge in each other. And neither of them can resist the urge, the mutual desire, the lure of sweet debauchery.
Both of their scents coil around each other, fusing and connecting in the space of the cabin, an act of intimacy that makes both alphas shiver in delightful pleasure. They bask in the embrace of pack, a privilege both alphas hold in reverence with their mated bonds.
A satisfied hum rumbles in the back of Zoey’s throat as she slowly takes Rumi’s cockhead into her mouth, just the tip so she can savor the sensation of thickness filling up the space of her mouth. She wraps her lips around the tip and suckles leisurely, eyes fluttering as Rumi holds her head, firm hands cradling her crown like something precious.
“That’s it, Zoey. Fuck, I love the way your mouth feels on me.” Satisfaction curls Rumi’s lips as she slumps back in the seat, content to let Zoey have at it. There’s nothing hotter than watching her lover gradually swallow all of her cock—this isn’t the first time she indulges in her mate’s fixation and it certainly won’t be the last.
Heavy is the weight of Rumi’s cock as it enters Zoey’s mouth, slowly and steadily filling the space there like it was always meant to be. She was made to take Rumi’s cock, made to have it fill her mouth and throat, head bobbing until she milks rumi dry.
Another moan crawls out of Zoey’s mouth, vibrating up Rumi’s thick cock and eliciting a sharp gasp, a breathless whine that makes Zoey feel good from her mate’s reaction alone. Zoey’s cheeks hollow as she suckles gently, then harshly, then back to soft; her lips curl into a smirk as she feels Rumi’s hips buck beneath her, powerless against the alternating tempo Zoey controls with her wicked mouth. She lashes her tongue against Rumi’s cockhead, relishing in the jolt of pain-pleasure to her scalp as Rumi tugs at her hair in response. Delighted by her mate’s reaction, Zoey laughs lowly, her tone smeared dark with amusement and arousal alike. The sound is muffled by the cock filling her mouth, but the vibrations are delicious as they travel up Rumi’s shaft.
Saliva drips down Rumi’s cock, coating the thickness in an obscene sheen of wetness. Zoey pulls off of Rumi with a slick slurping sound, so shamelessly lewd that it drives a shiver down both their spines. Arousal drags down each ridge of her vertebrae like a spark, hot and molten before it fades into tingles at the base of her spine.
Dark eyes stare up at Rumi, and she can’t help the way her lips curl up into a smile. Affection and hunger twine in those dark pools as she cradles Zoey’s head, stroking at the short choppy bangs along her forehead.
“Don’t move, Rumi. I want to feel you in my throat.” Zoey says this as she nips at Rumi’s thigh, suckling a bruise along a pulsing pattern just because she can.
“Fuck…!” Rumi’s hips jog involuntarily as she registers the words. It’s so hot and so raunchy, the way Zoey’s declaration of intention sinks into her gut like a heavy punch.
It’s the only warning Zoey gives her before she takes half of Rumi’s cock in her mouth. She hovers over Rumi’s pelvis, her hands clinging to the leather of Rumi’s belt and the soft cotton of Rumi’s briefs, body trembling in delight as thickness fills the entirety of her mouth. It’s a heady indulgence, and the way her brain shuts down—like a puzzle piece sliding perfectly into place—has Zoey’s arousal flaring like a burst of fireworks. Lust churns in her belly, and the thought of having more inches of Rumi’s cock to take is fuel feeding the flames licking at her core.
“H-Holy shit!” Rumi twitches as she restrains her hips, her fingers digging into plush leather as she fights the urge to rock up into Zoey’s mouth.
Blunt fingernails dig into Rumi’s hips, an anchor of pain amidst pleasure as traces of pink lines scrape down smooth skin. Zoey hums around the thick cock, her moans muffled as she begins to bob her head, teasing the tip of Rumi’s cock with the back of her throat. Her eyes are closed, focused on the sensation of Rumi’s cock prodding, prodding, prodding—and then pushing past the tight ring of muscle. A lewd squelch lingers between their bodies as Rumi’s cock delves into Zoey’s throat, encompassed by slick velvety walls.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” A breathy whine slips out of Rumi as pleasure shudders violently down her spine, a molten surge of gratification as she is absolutely lost in the sensation of Zoey’s throat squeezing around her cock. It feels good, the pressure slick and tight around her shaft, and fuck, if the indecent yet serene expression on Zoey’s face isn’t doing the most for Rumi right now.
“Baby, your throat—fuck… feels so good.” Rumi’s head lolls back to rest on the headrest, eyes screwing shut as she revels in the pleasure emanating all around her cock right now. Her jaw’s gone slack from how good it feels, words and pleased noises slurring together as they drip from her mouth.
Gently, the tip of Zoey’s nose brushes along Rumi’s pelvis, brushing along the coarse hair of her happy trail—much like how Rumi’s cock brushes deep along the velvety walls of Zoey’s throat. The sensation of full, full, full is all Zoey can think about right now; her pleasure revolves around it, revolves around taking every inch of Rumi into her mouth and down her throat, and god, her cock is hard as steel as she savors the moment. A throbbing pulse settles in her core, and Zoey knows that her cock is an aching, wet mess in her pants. She can feel how damp her underwear is, the fabric near her weeping cockhead soaked through as it is. Heat suffuses across her cheeks, and Zoey feels that same heat simmer in her belly, her arousal as molten as lava.
“Breathe, baby.” With fingers stroking through soft black hair, Rumi growls, the command strong and clear as it rumbles in the depths of her chest. Her caring alpha, still looking out for her even in the midst of their storm of lustful pheromones.
Zoey answers with a shuddering breath through her nose and a throaty hum around Rumi’s cock. Her hands squeeze at Rumi’s hips appreciatively.
There’s a slick squelching sound that echoes through the cabin, and Rumi’s face flushes with the heat of a fierce blush as she watches Zoey just… go to town on her cock. She’s riveted by the sight of her lover’s head bobbing, a rhythm that is steady and sure as Zoey fucks her throat down on her cock.
“Does it feel good, baby? Does taking my cock down your throat get you hard?” Licking her lips, Rumi starts running her mouth. Her voice is gruff from her own desires, tone dropping low as seduction oozes free. Her hands cradle Zoey’s head, fingers raking through soft black hair in affectionate caresses.
A whine vibrates around her cock, and Rumi shivers at how good it feels. Her knee twitches, knocking gently against Zoey’s side to earn her an amused glance.
“Yeah, I know it does, pretty slut. You’re such a whore, ready to sink down to your knees just so you can take my cock.” A sinful smirk graces Rumi’s lips as she stares down at Zoey. She pauses to take in the way Zoey’s eyes dilate, pupils shaking at the filth coming out of Rumi. A thumb strokes along the high arch of Zoey’s cheek, pausing to gauge her lover’s reaction. Only when Zoey swallows, bobs her head, and moans around Rumi’s cock does she continue.
“What a pretty mouth my perfect alpha has. Yeah, you’re perfect, baby. Who’s my pretty alpha?” She leans heavily into the praise, pausing to let the words swirl in Zoey’s ears before they take effect: flushed skin and muffled moans, the subtle rock of Zoey’s hips against the air.
“Mhmphmm.” Zoey’s lashes flutter, softly kissing the tops of her cheekbones.
“That’s right, Zoey. You are.” The purr Rumi lets out is loud enough to vibrate along Zoey’s skin.
Drool puddles at the base of Rumi’s cock, exaggerating each bob of Zoey’s head with a shameless slick noise. It adds to the arousal coiling around them, the thick air of debauchery that clings to their skin like sweat, the heady indulgence that punches their bellies alongside the swooping weight of pleasure.
“Such a pretty little whore… hah, taking my cock down your throat.” Praise drips from Rumi’s lips to settle on Zoey’s shoulders. It feels like warmth trailing down the length of her back, rivulets of pleasure sliding along her spine, spreading on her skin until it covers every inch.
And then Rumi keeps talking with her raspy tone, “Imagine if anybody could see you right now, baby. If someone were to peek through the windows and see you on your knees, see my cock fucking your face like my personal toy.”
Zoey shudders hard, unable to keep the provocative image from flashing through her mind. Embarrassment and excitement clash within her, spurring her arousal from the simple thought of getting caught like this: her face getting fucked by Rumi in the backseat of a car, alpha on alpha, truly lost in the sauce—it only manages to ratchet her arousal up several notches, her desires flaring to another intensity. Her cock throbs hard in her pants, and god, Zoey can feel herself leaking. She’s sure her boxers are ruined by now. Her hand brushes over the seam of her crotch and fuck, just the muted sensation is enough to feel pleasure thundering through her body.
The whimper Zoey lets loose around her cock has Rumi groaning. Smug satisfaction settles on her face as she feels the effect her dirty talk has managed to elicit from her lover.
“Yeah, you like that? You like being my personal cock sleeve?” Rumi chuckles and purrs, sighing heavily as pleasure zips up her spine. She moans and rolls her hips, pushing her cock further into Zoey’s incredibly warm, wet mouth.
All that pressure aches in her gut, coiling tighter and tighter with every bob of Zoey’s head. Rumi grunts and moans, her fingers gripping strands of black hair harder. Pleasure floods her belly, and Rumi’s breath stutters as she feels it mounting. She can’t hold on any longer. So she tugs at Zoey’s hair, pulling enough to get her lover’s gaze to lock with hers.
“I’m close, Zoey. Fuck, it feels so good. Be a good little cockslut and take my cum, yeah? You wanna taste my cum down your throat, don’t you, alpha?” Rumi coos, affection and debauchery tinting the sweet, low tone she directs at Zoey.
Another muffled whine, another rake of blunt nails over Rumi’s hips. Zoey bobs her head eagerly, absolutely wanting what her lover is offering. Soon enough, she feels that telltale throb of Rumi’s cock in her throat, feels the clench of Rumi’s balls against her wet chin, feels the hot flood of salty release down her throat. Pupils blow wide, sheer arousal expanding as Zoey takes every thick rope of hot cum, the walls of her throat lax as she concentrates on keeping the passage open.
It’s Rumi’s steady hands that cradle Zoey’s head, her firm hands that gingerly pull Zoey off of her soaked cock. A wet gasp taints the air followed by heavy pants of breath. It’s Rumi’s fingers that gently wipe at the tears that gather on Zoey’s eyes, her fingers that caress her flushed cheeks and aching jaw with tender care and reverence. It’s those same hands that effortlessly haul Zoey off of the car floor and into Rumi’s lap.
“You did so well for me, baby. So good, Zoey, you made me feel so good.” Rumi croons and coos, soft praise murmured into her ear as those strong hands stroke up and down Zoey’s back, down her sides, curling around her waist. “Such a good alpha for me.”
Ragged breaths leave Zoey’s open mouth as she sits in Rumi’s lap, panting as she tries to catch her breath. She’s still so turned on, evident by the leaking mess in her boxers. Her cock is starting to hurt from the ache, trembling from the lack of stimulation. And that heady haze of lust still swirls in her mind, blanketing her regular functions like a dense fog. She feels Rumi’s steady hold on her body; she leans into the praise and the possessive tone and the warmth of those strong hands, relaxing into her lover.
“Rumi, I need…,” Zoey sucks in a breath as she gently knocks her forehead against Rumi’s. She’s trembling, hanging on by a thread as she feels the unbearable ache in her lower belly.
“I’ve got you, baby.” Is all Rumi says before she slots their mouths together, kissing Zoey’s swollen lips gently. It’s an indulgent kiss with the way it deepens, the way they tilt their head to feel even more of each other. Rumi licks into Zoey’s mouth, groaning at the remnants of herself that she can taste on her lover’s tongue. She laps at the saliva coating Zoey’s chin, slow licks turning into slow kisses at the underside of Zoey’s jaw until her mate is giggling from how it tickles there.
A hand caresses Zoey’s stomach, fingers dragging along toned abs before dipping down into coarse hair. Rumi tugs at Zoey’s happy trail gently, chuckling at the automatic jerk of hips that follow the motion.
“Can I touch you? Let me make you feel good too, baby. My pretty mate deserves it.” Warm lips brush against Zoey’s, devotion slinking into Rumi’s tone as she waits for permission.
“Please, please, please.” Zoey gasps, a soft and sweet exhale along Rumi’s mouth as she nods eagerly. Her gaze turns from Rumi’s sweet, saccharine expression to her own lap. She can’t take her eyes away from Rumi’s hand as it tugs her pants open and her boxers down, freeing Zoey’s cock from the confines of damp fabric. Zoey’s cock isn’t as long as Rumi’s, but it’s just as thick as it juts up between her thighs. The tip is a severe shade of red, cockhead swollen from how long she’s been denied stimulation. Angry veins throb as they snake down the length, pulsing with need. The musky scent of precum and citrus twining with sandalwood is prominent as Zoey’s cock is drenched in creamy white, evidence of how long she’s been holding back her pleasure.
“Oh, baby, look at you.” Rumi coos and clicks her tongue at the sight of Zoey’s weeping cock sticking out of her ruined underwear. She wraps a hand around the base of Zoey’s cock and squeezes leisurely. “So fucking pretty while you’re drenched. All that for me? All for your alpha?”
The air in Zoey’s lungs is punched out just from the simple touch from Rumi. Her hands land quickly on Rumi’s shoulders, fingers curling atop firm muscle until her nails are digging crescents into smooth skin.
“F-Fuck! Alpha, Rumi, I can’t… please—make me come!” Zoey whines shamelessly, well past her inhibitions as she searches for release. Her hips jerk, a stuttering motion as she watches Rumi squeeze the base of her cock before setting a slow pace of strokes. A garbled moan slips free as pleasure accompanies each pump; it’s a white-hot feeling of ecstasy, relief and pleasure so molten that it feels like the flames are lapping at her from the inside out.
“Y-Yes! Just like that!” Zoey chokes out another moan as she nuzzles against Rumi’s face. Her nose rubs against Rumi’s, hot breath mingling with Rumi’s soft panting.
Slow pumps, a firm grip on Zoey’s thick shaft, corkscrew twist as Rumi nears the tip. Her fang snags on her bottom lip as she watches Zoey lose herself in her own pleasure. It’s so hot watching her lover let go, watching Zoey place her trust and pleasure in Rumi’s capable hands.
“You’re so hard and wet, baby.” Rumi purrs as she trails wet, open-mouthed kisses down the path of Zoey’s neck. She nips and licks and suckles at her girlfriend’s throat, abusing the skin near her mating bite, smug at the hickies she’s leaving behind.
Rumi’s free hand sneaks under Zoey’s shirt so she can palm at her lover's chest, massaging her breasts and squeezing at those lovely stiff nipples over her bra. The sharp cry Zoey lets loose in response is addicting, and so are the throaty moans Zoey lets out as well.
“I love the way you feel. Is it good, pretty girl? Does my hand feel good?” Rumi asks as she laps at Zoey’s neck, her words spoken between the searing kisses being pressed to the underside of Zoey’s jaw. Her hand maintains that steady slow pace, wet palm curling around that sensitive cockhead with expert precision. The pressure and the friction is perfect, pleasure wrapping all around Zoey like a vice.
“Yes!” Zoey hisses the word out like a sob. She can’t help the way her hips rock down, can’t help the way she bucks into Rumi’s hand. It feels so good, so fucking good—the relief like divine pleasure after all that waiting. She can feel it building, aching pressure coiling tight like a loaded spring, ready to snap as she stands at the edge. Teetering on the precipice, waiting and waiting as Rumi builds her up.
“Please, please—I can’t… R-Rumi!”
“That’s it, come for me, Zoey. Make a mess of my hand. Wanna see you come… just for me.”
And Rumi leans back into the leather seat, smirking as she takes in the sight of Zoey so desperate and flushed with arousal, her hand still firmly grasping her lover’s cock. Slick noises permeate the cabin as she quickens her strokes, obscenity echoing in their ears as Rumi watches the way pleasure courses through every inch of Zoey. She’s raptured, completely captivated by the euphoria flickering across Zoey’s visage, micro-expressions examined as her lover splinters into a million pieces, fractured before exploding at the height of her orgasm.
Rumi can feel Zoey’s cock throbbing in her hand, twitching violently as her pleasure crests. She can smell the want thick in the air, and she chuffs at her mate’s scent growing louder. Citrus and sandalwood, a scent Rumi has associated with one half of her pack. Then Rumi’s grinding her palm against the sensitive ridge of Zoey’s cockhead, a rough, rotating motion as her palm covers the sensitive tip. Thick ropes of hot cum spurt out of Zoey’s cock as her hips snap and stutter in Rumi’s lap. She keeps going, keeps on touching Zoey as she watches her lover thrash in the throes of her pleasure, immensely satisfied by how Zoey completely surrenders to her.
Zoey slumps into Rumi’s front, harsh breaths expelled from her heaving chest as she rides the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her hands are shaky so she grounds herself in Rumi’s sturdy frame, fingers clutching at broad shoulders until she stops trembling. Her breathing is shot to hell though, the air in her lungs hitching as Rumi gathers her cum in her hand.
Slowly, like Rumi’s got all the time in the world as she gathers up Zoey’s release, mesmerizing the both of them with lacey strands of slick glistening off her fingers. It’s nasty, it’s obscene—it’s so fucking hot watching Rumi lap at her own hand—her hand covered in Zoey’s cum. That pink tongue sweeps out, lapping at every drop, sweeping through the webbing between each knuckle until Rumi’s hand is clean of her release.
“Mhm, you taste so good, babe.” There’s a spark in Rumi’s eyes, mischief and playful affection glimmering in those dark pools.
“Rumi,” Zoey whines, a soft pitchy sound in the back of her throat as she feels a shudder of molten arousal travel down her spine. Arousal bubbles in her lower belly once more, and Zoey whimpers as she feels her cock twitching softly. Her voice is scratchy as she says, “You’re killing me here.”
Rumi merely laughs as she pulls Zoey closer in her lap, hugging their fronts flush together. Her free hand strokes up and down Zoey’s back, gentle caresses that coax her lover into melting into her. Zoey’s head rests on Rumi’s shoulder, her face tucking into Rumi’s neck, lips brushing along the mating bite reverently. Their breathing evens out as they seek comfort and warmth in each other, all of that tension melting as the seconds go by while basking in each other’s scents.
Rumi glances out the window, noting the skyline of glass and neon lights. They’re close to the tower, close to Mira, close to the instincts screaming in their heads—home and pack and mate repeat like a mantra.
“We’re almost home, Zoey.” Rumi presses a kiss to the shell of Zoey’s ear as she speaks. A warm kiss lingers as she kisses her girlfriend’s earlobe. The answering chirping purr she gets out of Zoey makes Rumi smile brightly.
“Mira?”
Mate, pack, nest goes unspoken between them.
“Yes. Home.”