Eccentric ✓

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Oliver thought if he kept it up, maybe the heat would cool off, but if anything, it seemed to grow worse with each orgasm. Oliver couldn't even get hard anymore, he'd come so many times he'd lost count, it felt like his dick was about to fall off.

Bill was still begging, still sobbing, hips raised high, face buried in the pillow, while Oliver had three fingers buried in him in a desperate attempt to soothe the ache.

"Alpha, alpha, please," Bill was crying. His claws had popped out at some point, and he'd ruined Oliver's pillows – torn them to shreds.

"It's alright, baby," Oliver cooed, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "Almost there..." he rubbed his fingers against Bill's prostate between intervals, until Bill cried out and clenched around his fingers, coming dry onto the sheets.

He sank into the mattress after, but Oliver knew the respite wouldn't be long enough.

"Bill," Oliver tried like the hundredth time. "Bill, what's happening to you? I don't know how to help you."

"Fuck me, fuck me..." Bill sobbed incoherently, his entire body shaking. He was trying to lift his hips again.

Oliver inspected his hole with his fingers, finding Bill throbbing and swollen.

He couldn't do this. Something was wrong. Oliver didn't really know how omega heats worked, but he was pretty sure alphas were built to keep up with them – it was, unfortunately, biology. But Oliver couldn't keep up with Bill – it was like Bill's heat was on a whole other level.

Not to mention the fact that Bill wasn't meant to have a heat at all.

His mate was crying in distress now, which turned into a furious growl as he turned abruptly and slammed Oliver onto the mattress on his back, climbing astride his thighs.

"Bill!" Oliver gasped, "Sweetheart, I can't –"

"I want your fucking knot," Bill growled. "Give it to me. Why won't you give it to me?"

He yanked at Oliver's flaccid dick when it refused to get hard, and Oliver shouted, shoving Bill off of him and curling in on himself. He cupped his bruised dick with a pitiful whimper.

But Bill wasn't done. He seemed so out of it, already reaching for Oliver again, that menacing growl building up in his chest. His claws dug into Oliver's thigh, and he used it to try and drag Oliver towards him.

Oliver yelled in pain again as those claws dug grooves into his thigh, blood spilling immediately in slow gushes.

"Bill!" he yelled, having no choice but to reach for the other man and restrain him.

He grabbed Bill's arms in his palms and slammed them down onto the mattress beside him, before climbing astride his body so he could use his thighs for further leverage. Bill struggled and squirmed, going from growling to crying to pleading, the range of emotions giving Oliver whiplash.

But it was the look in his eyes that truly had the alpha worried – they were glazed over with a thin film of grey, iris and pupil looking around dazedly but not focusing on anything – like Bill was here but not really here. Fuck.

Tears filled Oliver's eyes. "Edward!"

There was no response. Bill was still struggling, and from the smell of blood in the air, it seemed he'd started to claw at himself.