Aiden POV**
I carried Elias out of the bar and into the back of the car.
He was burning hot, limp, drugged, breathing fast against my neck.
( Oh God damnit his sister really did him bad)
I only wanted to get him safe.
Then the privacy screen went up and his scent hit me full force (clean snow, mixed with honey and strawberry, and something ancient that punched straight into my blood).
My vision tunneled.
My heart slammed once, hard, like a war drum.
My cock went from soft to painfully hard in a single heartbeat.
The base started swelling before I even touched him.
Rut.
Not in three days.
Not tomorrow.
Right fucking now.
I searched everywhere in the car for my Dominant core pheromones suppressor.
I wasn't able to find it
I growled, low and animal, claws ripping through my fingertips.
The temperature in the car spiked twenty degrees.
My pheromones flooded the space so thick the driver started coughing over the intercom.
Elias whimpered, legs spreading on instinct, slick soaking through his pants in seconds.
Even half-conscious, his body answered mine.
Julian's panicked voice crackled from my phone:
"Aiden, your signature just went nuclear. Talk to me—"
" We need to get him his pheromones suppressor now ! Before it is too late .
Karl, in the background:
"He took the Primarch. It's happening. Full rut. We're too late."
I couldn't answer.
Couldn't think.
Only one word left in my head:
Mine.
I pinned Elias to the seat, ripped his clothes off.
Control, Adien, fucking control yourself
I said, I tried slapping myself,it was not working,the only thing in my mind is breeding.
Julian and Karl watched the car peel out of the lot, driving away.
Julian whispered, "May the gods help that Primarch."
Karl just shook his head.
"He wanted a mate who could survive him.
He just found the only one who can."
I arrived at home .
I carried him into the mansion like I was carrying something sacred and breakable at the same time without saying hello or greeting anyone.
The second the bedroom door shut behind us, I laid him on the black silk sheets and just… looked.
He was wrecked.
Shirt torn open, pants gone, thighs streaked with slick . Bite marks blooming red and purple across his throat, chest, wrists. His cock was half-hard again, flushed dark, drooling onto his stomach.
And he was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
I dropped to my knees beside the bed like a supplicant.
"Elias," I whispered, voice cracking for the first time in years.
His eyes fluttered open, glassy but aware. He reached for me, fingers trembling.
I caught his hand and kissed every knuckle, slow, reverent. Then the inside of his wrist, right over the bite I'd left, licking the raised marks like I could soothe the ache I'd put there.
I moved up his arm, kissing every inch of skin, tasting salt and sweat and him. When I reached his throat I nuzzled the mating bite, lapped at the blood still beading there, and felt him shudder.
"Mine to worship," I murmured against his pulse. "Mine to ruin and cherish and fucking pray to."
I kissed down his chest, open-mouthed and slow, tongue tracing every ridge of muscle. When I reached his nipple I closed my lips around it gently at first, just a soft suck, then harder, teeth scraping, until he arched off the bed with a broken moan. I moved to the other one, sucking until it was swollen and dark, then bit down just enough to make him cry out my name.
I kept going lower.
Kissed every rib.
Licked the hollow of his navel.
Nosed through the trail of hair beneath it until I reached his cock.
I didn't touch it yet.
Instead I lifted his legs, spread him wide, and stared at his hole, red, slick-soaked, fluttering like it was begging for me again.
I leaned in and kissed it.
Softly.
Like I was kissing his mouth.
Then deeper, tongue sliding inside, slow and deliberate. He sobbed, hands fisting the sheets. I licked him open like I had all the time in the world, long, dragging strokes from his balls to his rim, circling, pushing inside, fucking him with my tongue until he was shaking and dripping fresh slick down my chin.
I pulled back only to whisper, "You taste like salvation," before diving back in, sucking on his rim until it was swollen and obscene, until he was riding my face, thighs clamped around my head, begging in broken gasps.
Only then did I move up again.
I kissed his cock from root to tip, slow, worshipful, licking up every bead of pre-cum like it was holy. Took him into my mouth inch by inch, hollowed my cheeks, sucked until he was thrashing, then pulled off with a wet pop and kissed the head like I was thanking it.
I crawled up his body, kissing every bruise I'd left, every mark, every inch of skin until I reached his mouth again.
I kissed him deep and slow, feeding him the taste of himself still on my tongue.
"I'm going to spend the rest of my life on my knees for you," I said against his lips. "And then I'm going to put you on yours and fuck you until you forget every name but mine."
He laughed, shaky and perfect, and pulled me down.
So I did both.
Over and over.
I kept my tongue buried in his ass until he was sobbing, until slick was pouring out of him in waves, until I'd swallowed so much of him my throat was coated and my chin dripped like I'd been eating the ripest fruit on earth.
Only then did I flip him onto his stomach, spread his cheeks wide again, and drag my tongue in one slow, possessive line from his leaking hole all the way up his spine, over every bite mark, until I reached the nape of his neck and bit down on the mating gland a second time just to hear him scream my name again.
I slid back down and took his cock down my throat in one brutal push, nose buried in his pubes, swallowing around him until he came with a broken wail, flooding my mouth with thick, salty ropes that I swallowed greedily, milking him dry while he shook and begged and tried to crawl away from the overstimulation.
I didn't let him.
I flipped him again, pinned his wrists above his head, and sank my cock into his swollen, cum-soaked hole in one slow, reverent thrust.
He was so full of me already that every inch forced another gush of my last load out around my shaft, running down his balls, soaking the sheets in a filthy puddle beneath us.
I fucked him slow , deep rolling thrusts that dragged over every sensitive spot inside him, watching his eyes roll back, watching his belly bulge every time I bottomed out.
I leaned down and sucked on his nipples again while I moved, biting and licking until they were raw and shining, until he was clawing at my back and babbling nonsense.
I pulled out only to shove three fingers alongside my cock on the next thrust, stretching him wider, making him take more, making him feel exactly how much he belonged to me.
He came again just from that, cock untouched, spurting weakly across his own stomach while his hole clenched around my cock and fingers like it was trying to pull me in deeper and keep me there forever.
I lost count of how many times I made him come.
I lost count of how many times I filled him.
By the time the sun rose, the sheets were destroyed: soaked through with slick, cum, sweat, and the faint pink of blood where I'd bitten too hard and fucked too deep.
His voice was gone, reduced to hoarse little whimpers every time I moved inside him.
My cock was still buried in him, knot half-swollen again, leaking steadily into his overfilled body.
I kissed him slow and deep, tasting blood and cum and both of us, and whispered against his swollen lips:
"I'm never pulling out.
You're going to stay stuffed with me for the rest of your life."
He smiled, dazed and wrecked and perfect, and clenched around me like a promise.
So I stayed inside him.
And I worshipped him with every slow, filthy thrust until the sun rose again.
And again.
until he fell unconscious