The extension of his soul, the intertwining of lovers, his other half. Rowan was his best friend, the mate that understood him the most. The man that would roughhouse with him, then slap his thick cock over his lips and balm his throat with jizz. They had a different kind of connection, one that connected thickly in kinks, sex and love.
Rowan was a haven of acceptance, of dirty glory holes in walls, nasty cum over cheeks, sloppy blowjobs in the backrooms in regal outfits, fists in ass and orgasms everywhere. They were twins on their knees with their ass raised, kissing. Rowan wanted to know everything Helios did and Helios wanted the same from Rowan.
And this—Helios's tasting, Helios's sneaky cunnilingus. It felt like a betrayal, tasted like guilt. They were peas in a pod.
There was no excuse.
They had an agreement.
No touching Quinn unless it was the specified time after dinner.
Quinn was merely a tool.
And Rowan had caught him looking at Quinn like that.
Helios swallowed, blood draining from his cheeks, but his gaze was rising to his naked shin and naked knees, rising to Rowan's swollen cock. His eyes widened at the nudity, common from Rowan's wolf transformation, but now with large long fingers on a thick curved cock, stroking, staring, cheeks all red. The pulses of pre-cum trickled in spiderweb ropes, dripping into the bushes. He'd watched. He'd seen all of Helios and his sweetness, his needs, his begging.
He'd seen Helios growing soft.
"Helios?" Quinn blinked at him and closed her legs with a shyness that felt wrong. That felt like he was cheating, and Helios grew scandalised by it all.
He rose, expression stormy, felt the need to act, to feign indifference. "Fuck off woman." There was a startled brush of hurt in her eyes, a sharpness that erased the warmth he'd achieved. But he stomped away, wings spreading, shrouding, cheeks red. Rowan was there when he arrived behind the vegetation, there to slide lazy eyes towards him, accusatory.
"You left so quickly." Rowan's voice was too low, Helios turned his gaze away, struggling to hold himself together. "And I find you here eating cunt." Helios felt as if he'd lost all his power, body cold, shiver rushing up his spine. He was hyper-conscious of his actions, of his warmth towards Quinn. His knot bumped against his thigh, hard, thick and wrong.
"I was hungry."
"Aren't we all?" His soulmate's eyes flashed red. "Couldn't you wait?"
"I was starving."
"Selfish."
Helios wiped his lips with the back of his hand and turned to spit on the ground. But Rowan stopped him, a hand on his wet cheek, fingers on his wrist. Helios was startled by the look in his eyes, by the burn of clementines that bore into his soul. And then Rowan was sucking Quinn off his tongue, chasing the taste of her that seemed to make everything worse. He panted on Helios's lips, panted on the saliva that pooled in his mouth— the traces of Quinn were fuelling Rowan, quelling his hunger with each guzzle, each drink.
Helios made a pathetic moan, shame colouring his cheeks.
Rowan took it from him with a grunt, licked the rest of Quinn's juices from his tongue and drank it all like a moth to a flame. He was eating Helios's mouth as he would to a cunt, and Helios felt trapped by it, skin bruised purple by his grip, held hostage and unable to leave. It felt wrong, wrong to taste like Quinn, wrong to have stuck his hands in the jar of honey. And his thighs shook, cock hot and pounding.
He was still trickling, trickling semen all over himself. His Omega had wanted to fill up her belly with cum.
Rowan panted on Helios's lips, hard cock nuzzling his swollen length, curved against his belly. He was just as wet, slick dripping down his thighs, smelling like darkened, sour honey. Their eyes were locked together when Rowan came all over his chest and shot straight to his cheek, the wad of it smacked his lip, hot and boiling. The wolf smiled, nasty, angry. And Helios shuddered.
"You've made her taste too fucking sweet."
A/N: Read ahead on
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