Bond Brothers

Robbie fucks himself literally and metaphorically (Part 1 of 2)

A/N: Trigger Warnings at the end! (minor spoilers)

Heat licked up Robbie's spine.

The hot scent of spicy wildflowers and warm brandy seared through his nose and his nerve endings. It burned in his gut and pooled in his groin. It leaked from his ass in a torrent of wet, bubbling slick.

His skin sizzled and his teeth clattered.

The alcohol clouding his mind seemed to boil off, even as he felt what control over his own body he did still have melting away in steady, ambrosial drips.

Robbie distantly noted that Volkov was snapping something in coarse Russian to Scar-face who held a handkerchief to his nose. He only saw Scar-face duck quickly back into the elevator out of the very corner of his eye, because his eyes, hell his whole body, was rigidly, unerringly, seized by the gravitational pull of the alpha in front of him.

Volkov was prowling towards him like an enormous cat, gaze firmly running over every inch of his prey. Robbie shuddered harder, sure he could feel every caress of that dangerous stare.

His heartbeat pounded painfully through his straining cock.

"Such a tall boy," Volkov rumbled approvingly. His deep voice was as smooth as butter but his words were thick with a coarse accent. "And so pretty too."

Robbie preened at the praise and swayed towards him, his alpha, whimpering pitifully when the beautiful man skirted away to circle Robbie speculatively instead.

A chuckle popped and crackled across Robbie's sensitive skin. "So eager for it already, little omega," Volkov jeered from behind Robbie now, and the omega quickly bared his neck, surrendering. Volkov's responding growl was approving.

"There von't be any running away this time, pretty boy," he went on, clearly taunting, but also rounding back into Robbie's field of vision and looking down on him with all the hungry triumph of an alpha who'd won the hunt. Robbie's neck ached from how insistently he bared it, praying all the while that the big, strong alpha would find him pleasing enough claim.

"You might haff slipped away from my brothers, but there vos never any chance you could run far from me," he scolded, the admonishment mostly ruined by a wicked grin. "Though your little fake bite vos particularly... inspired."

Robbie panted, greedily inhaling lungfuls of the alpha's scent until the fire across his skin reached through his gut to the base of his spine and tugged.

The omega squealed and fell to his knees when his ass spasmed painfully around nothing at all except an explosion of hot slick that dribbled out of him with a loud, obscene gurgling sound.

"Alpha," he moaned, so hoarse and anguished that he didn't recognise his own voice. "Alpha, please."

He couldn't think, he could hardly breathe. He didn't understand why his alpha wasn't rutting him right now.

His alpha made a nasty noise like mocking sympathy. "Is the pretty boy empty?" he needled, his enormous body crouching down onto the balls of his feet and bringing the full, bulging crotch of his tailored pants right into the sights of Robbie's tilted head. "Does he need a cock in his needy hole?"

Robbie keened and pressed down onto his elbows, one side of his face plastering itself flat to the floor to keep his neck bared while he lifted his ass into the air as high as it would go.

He knew he was crying, blubbering snottily into the carpet, but he didn't care.

He was on fire and his body was screaming at him, but for whatever reason his alpha still wasn't rutting him.