L*st and Death

If Siron had known undressing Baekgyeong’s pants would be such a dangerous business, he never would have agreed to Isaac’s request—let alone made eye contact with Baekgyeong’s cock. Who could have imagined that hooking up a rutting alpha’s catheter would spiral into frenzied sex?

The thought of a venomous king cobra led naturally to Lewis’s anaconda—and from there to the most recent addition to that mental menagerie: Isaac’s thoroughbred stallion.

Christ, it’s a zoo.

His face darkened as he thought about just how far beyond human category their equipment was.

And come to think of it—Beardface, that bastard, was packing one too.

Not king cobra, anaconda, or stallion-sized, but still obscenely large. If Isaac hadn’t blown off both of Beardface’s ears that day, Siron would have been helplessly raped. The thought that he might have blacked out from those filthy pheromones and ended up grinding on him of his own accord made a cold shiver run down his spine.

To be the only omega fated to exist in a world where monsters like that roamed—it was like being dropped as prey into the middle of a crocodile-infested swamp. He should be protecting himself like treasure, yet here he was, making a spectacle of himself under pheromones. At this rate, every time he met an alpha, he’d be sticking his face straight into their crotch. No matter how he thought about it, omegas had no business existing in this brutal world.

He couldn’t understand the madness of Yuri Berec, who had turned himself into an omega for the sake of his lover Gezar Bazelli. And his end had been a tragic one—killed by the very partner he loved, along with his adopted son, his body stripped of dignity to become a specimen in a research lab’s freezer.

Siron glanced sideways at Isaac, who sat beside him, leaning back with one arm braced behind him, gazing silently at the sea as darkness fell. He held a stem of foxtail grass in one hand, running the soft, bushy tuft slowly across his lips.

Siron had seen all kinds of human lives, but never one as jagged as Isaac’s—losing his family to his foster father, enduring every imaginable torment as a government test subject, surviving only to live a life of constant pursuit. Siron’s own life had been no stranger to hardship, but next to Isaac’s, his didn’t even rate.

Still... don’t go pitying him.

One hard lesson with Baekgyeong had been enough to teach him that pity could ruin your life. Whatever Isaac’s past, whatever he felt for Siron, didn’t matter. Every ordeal Siron had faced since returning to the U.S. had begun with Isaac intruding into his life.

And their sex—was terrible. Even if he’d ended up enjoying it later, the way it had started, all coercion, deserved a hundred head-smacks.

“How’s your body?”

“Took you long enough to ask. Feels like my bottom’s about to fall out.”

Siron’s words were bitter, but Isaac seemed untouched by his resentment, chewing on the foxtail stem and leaning back on both arms.

“Funny. No matter how much I fuck, it never does.”

“Did you just—”

“If that came off like a joke, sorry, but it’s the truth.”

He leaned toward Siron, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret.

“You’re the first person who’s ever given me moans instead of screams.”

So he’d always gotten off to screams. Which meant violence was the foundation of Isaac Bazelli’s arousal. He’d been just as violent with Siron, but Siron had still been able to take it as pleasure—only because he was an omega, built to react to an alpha’s pheromones. It was Baekgyeong’s pheromones that had made him lie beneath Isaac, flushed and panting.

The weight of Isaac’s words left Siron with a heavy sense of defeat. He wanted to deny it, but the truth was that he had been drawn into that violent pleasure, the echo of it lingering somewhere in his body, making him relive it again and again. He shot Isaac a look full of blame.

The foxtail in Isaac’s mouth swayed lazily like a wagging tail.

Siron scooted a little farther away and muttered, “It was memorable. Just... because you were so bad at it.”

The foxtail’s movement stilled. Isaac turned fully toward him, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

“Fresh critique. How exactly was I lacking?”

“No skill whatsoever. No foreplay, no touching—just mindless pounding.”

“Mindless—”

“If I had to compare to another alpha... well, before you, I went through a rut cycle with this younger guy. Gorgeous, like the sun god himself. Unlike someone I know, who only cares about shoving it in, he started with foreplay that could melt your body. Compared to him, you’re like... swinging a hammer blind.”

“...A hammer?”

Siron grinned, savoring the hit—only to realize, belatedly, that he’d probably poked the bear. Isaac spat the foxtail out to the side and leaned toward him.

“Wha—hey! What are you—”

“I think you have a lot to teach me.”

“Teach you what?”

“Bed manners. I’ve never learned any.”

“How the hell would I—wait, why me?!”

Isaac caught Siron’s wrists, pressing him back against the car’s bumper. Only then did Siron realize he’d stepped right into it. This was the same man who’d forced sex on him over something as small as touching Baekgyeong’s cock. Now he’d both bragged about another man and insulted Isaac’s own skills.

“Come on, show me. Hak-mu-ji-gyeong, right?”

“Ha—what?”

Isaac took a slow breath.

“Hak-mu-ji-gyeong. A proverb. There’s no end to learning.”

“R-right! That’s what I meant! Anyway—why learn that from me?”

“...Because my experience is lacking, and I don’t know how to make you satisfied. So I should learn.”

His tone was calm, but it was obvious—he was in a mood.

Siron couldn’t tell if he’d scored a point or been completely reversed on. He sighed and turned his head away. The aversion to Isaac wasn’t gone, but it wasn’t like keeping still would make him back off.

If he couldn’t refuse, maybe it was better to get it over with quickly. The more you resisted, the more stubborn Isaac became.

He drew in slow, shallow breaths. They were close enough that their breaths brushed against each other. Resigned, Siron said:

“Usually, you start with kissing.”

Probably true. In movies and dramas, lovers warmed up with kisses first.

“Then you use your hands and mouth on the sensitive spots... take time to loosen the hole. Makes it hurt less. Before you go in, use plenty of lube. And if the other person says no, it means stop.”

“Cumbersome.”

The grip on his arms eased, as if Isaac had lost interest.

“You’ve never done it that way?”

After a pause, Isaac nodded.

“So you’ve always had sex by force—basically criminal—”

Siron didn’t finish. Isaac’s hand wrapped around the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss. The sudden thump of his heart felt almost like a rush of alcohol—though maybe that was the two swallows of whiskey earlier. Even so, the kiss set his chest trembling in a way it never should have.

Isaac’s lips were firm yet plush, covering Siron’s lightly, drawing him in with a slow pull. He pressed small kisses to his closed mouth, over and over, until Siron’s lips parted and the tip of his tongue slid inside. The moment their tongues met, a shiver of pure pleasure raced through him.

Their mouths broke apart, and Siron found himself being lowered onto the ground. Isaac straddled his hips, leaning over until their noses brushed.

Siron’s lips parted and closed again in small, expectant motions, his breath spilling out in short bursts. Isaac teased him with the touch of their noses, dragging it out before finally asking:

“Is this how you kiss?”

Siron had no words. Just from one kiss, slick had seeped into his underwear, wetting it. The idea that arousal could draw slick from him made his body feel forced into an unnatural fit with his mind—yet somewhere inside, his engorged flesh was trembling faintly with pleasure.

“It’s... not bad,” he murmured. But his voice came out thinner than he intended, tinged with heat. Isaac gave a low, amused breath.

Honestly... he is sexy.

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