Sold to the Yiling Patriarch ✔️(a Yizhan Omegaverse AU Fanfic)

Lesson 4: Don't Play with Knives

The Yiling Patriarch stood in front of him unbuttoning his silk shirt, and Lan Yibo felt his pulse speed up. He didn't know why. And when he used a long nail to make a cut on his chest and beckoned Yibo to drink, he only hesitated for a moment. It wasn't that he wanted to taste him. Again.

It was that he had a plan.

When his lips touched Zhan's cool flesh and his tongue sucked down surprisingly warm blood, he tried to hang onto his plan. Then he found himself hanging onto Wei Zhan, sucking at him like a drowning man as his blood enveloped him in a throbbing haze of need.

"That's enough."

He thought Wei Zhan sounded slightly breathless. Did he like this, too?

He wanted to kick himself, but all he did was look up into dark, almond eyes and then whimper when Wei Zhan slammed his lips down on his own.

Oh god. How could a blood-drenched kiss be so... delicious? How could he be enjoying this? How could he allow Zhan's tongue into his mouth? How could he suck on it as if he wanted to worship the man to whom it belonged? How could he want more?

More. He realized when Zhan's eyes widened that he'd said it out loud.

"Anything you say, Yibo." Zhan claimed Yibo's mouth again and pulled his hips forward, his fingers digging in.

Yibo didn't mind. All he could think of was the feel of Zhan's hard cock against his own.

When Zhan trailed his lips down his neck, alternating between soft kisses and hard bites, he heard himself whimper again and began grinding his hips. The friction of Zhan's jeans was almost too much, but all his senses felt overloaded.

He knew Zhan was going to bite him. Knew it when he licked the base of his neck once, then twice. Almost as if he were asking permission.

"Yes," Yibo said, panting an answer he never expected.

When Zhan's fangs sunk deep, the pain cleared his mind for a moment, but then Zhan began to drink, and Yibo realized why none of the humans he'd met earlier seemed eager to leave. Just the feel of Zhan possessing him this way had him cumming and moaning nonsense things like "so good" and "love this."

***
Yibo returned to consciousness on Wei Zhan's sofa for the second time that night feeling sated and ashamed. Part of him wanted to curl into a humiliated ball. Part of him wanted to rip the Yiling Patriarch limb from limb.

The sword on the wall taunted him.

But there was no way to get past Wei Zhan to get at it.

Then an image of that slut Xue Yang popped into his head. Sitting on Wei Zhan's lap. The shamelessness of it made him grit his teeth, but it would get him closer to his goal.

He stood, letting the blanket fall to the floor, and walked over to the Yiling Patriarch.

Zhan followed him with his eyes and then obligingly turned his chair when Yibo stood between it and the wall. The wall with the sword.

There was no way he was crawling into his lap. He needed to be out of Zhan's reach, and he needed Zhan distracted. So he looked pointedly at Zhan's crotch and then licked his lips. "Can I?" he asked.

The effect of his words was immediate, and it made him feel powerful to see the Yiling Patriarch swallow and look at him from under half-hooded eyes as his cock engorged just from two little words out of Yibo's mouth.

He licked his lips again. Not consciously this time, but he remembered how good Zhan had tasted yesterday, and he was curious if it would be the same. Not that he wanted it.

But his curiosity was rewarded when the Yiling Patriarch's cock was in his mouth once more, his every lick and suck met by moans of pleasure. Zhan's hand was in his hair, but it wasn't pushy. Yibo felt aroused, but also powerful - as if, in that moment, he had control of the most powerful, feared creature he'd ever known.

It was that feeling that propelled him to his feet after Zhan cried out and came in his mouth. After he swallowed his release and knew the wave of pleasure it brought. God, could the man have addictive cum?

He supposed he'd never know.

Because he was reaching for the sword, and either the Yiling Patriarch would die or the Yiling Patriarch would kill him where he stood.

He wasn't sure he cared which.

Zhan's eyes were closed. The sword was off the wall. He unsheathed it, saw Zhan's eyes open, raised the sword, saw Zhan lean foward, saw the sword fall, and then staggered off balance as something stopped him from completing the downward stroke.

Zhan looked up at him, his neck still bared, waiting for the blade to fall.

Yibo looked at his hand, shaking, but seemingly frozen in place.

Zhan's eyes began to glow a soft red, and Yibo dropped the sword, then dropped to his knees, head down. "Alpha," he whispered. Only it wasn't him. It was his damn wolf doing the talking.

"Thank you, my little wolf," Zhan said, stroking his hair.

His wolf was relieved, happy even, and leaned into Zhan's touch.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Yibo managed to say. His damn wolf didn't want to let him talk.

"Your wolf recognizes me as Alpha," Zhan said, sitting back. "I can see you will take further convincing."

He stood and yanked Yibo up by the hair. "Follow me."