The memory of experiencing Lewis’s rut firsthand surged violently through Siron’s mind. He’d thought he’d forgotten it—but he hadn’t. That memory had branded itself into his psyche like a tattoo, and even the slightest trigger would flash it back in vivid detail.
A black silhouette bursting through the iron door and glass window of Curry King on a pitch-dark, stormy night. An unknown man pinning Siron to the wall, groping him without restraint, yanking down his pants and trying to shove his cock inside. Then, Baekgyeong arriving, beating the man’s face into pulp with a cast-iron frying pan.
The memory felt so fresh it could have happened yesterday. Adrenaline spiked. It was like falling back through time—every sense drowning in the fear and shock of that day. Siron clutched his chest, where his heart pounded as though ready to burst.
“...Are you really in rut?”
Siron asked, terrified, careful not to say the word rut too loudly lest it provoke Lewis. But Lewis gave no sign he heard him. Focused entirely on driving, he accelerated, running every red light in his path.
They left the city center behind and headed into a quieter, deserted area. If they kept going at this pace, they’d be out of Baggers City entirely. Siron fought to escape the panic consuming him and reached into his pocket. If he couldn’t contact Anna, there’d be no way out of this.
He found Anna’s number and pressed call. But a few seconds later, an unexpected ringtone echoed inside the car—it was coming from a canvas bag in the back seat. Anna’s phone had been left in the car.
Lewis suddenly hit the brakes and pulled over along the side of a quiet road. They were at the entrance of a residential neighborhood lined with small single-family homes. Before Siron could react, Lewis snatched the phone from his hands.
“No—!”
Gripping the phone in both hands, Lewis tried to snap it in half. Siron couldn’t let that happen. It wasn’t just any phone—it was the one Baekgyeong had left him, and they had no spare, nor the money for a new one. The phone also had contingency programs installed in case something ever happened to Baekgyeong. Now that his mother had been murdered, there was no guarantee misfortune wouldn’t strike Baekgyeong too.
“Give it! Give it back, you fucking psycho!”
Siron screamed like a man possessed, lunging to grab the phone from Lewis—but it was no use.
“Don’t break it! I said give it—!”
“Then kiss me.”
For the first time since the chase began, Lewis spoke. His voice was clear and firm. He no longer gripped the accelerator like a madman, nor twisted the phone with force. But something inside him had undoubtedly snapped. Stunned speechless, Siron stammered in disbelief.
“Why would I kiss you...?”
But before he could finish, Lewis placed both thumbs on the center of the phone—like snapping a chocolate bar in half. Siron screamed, surrendering instantly.
“You bastard! F-Fine! I’ll do it—hng!”
His face was seized, lips crashed into his without warning. Siron had no time to react—Lewis’s mouth was already crushing against his. His hand gripped Siron’s face hard enough to bruise, his tongue plunging deep inside.
Lewis’s wet tongue slithered and rubbed along Siron’s, smooth and invasive. That soft, gliding pressure sent Siron into unfamiliar territory. He hadn’t even braced for impact, but now it felt like he was being forced to sprint toward the finish from the very start.
“Haah, haa...”
Siron panted raggedly, staring at Lewis. The heat coming off of him was stifling—his pheromones thick in the air. In the dim, blurry darkness, Lewis’s jet-black eyes gleamed with feverish intensity, like they were strangling every inch of Siron’s body.
He could feel his body heating up. His lower abdomen throbbed. His pelvis grew heavy. His cock swelled and hardened. The pheromones he’d once thought only burned the skin now felt like electric shocks dancing across his nerves wherever their lips met.
“...Can I kiss you again?”
Lewis’s face leaned in closer. Siron simply stared. In that moment, Baekgyeong and Isaac’s faces flashed through his mind. They felt impossibly distant—while Lewis was far too close. Every cell in Siron’s body seemed desperate to yield. Just as Lewis had lost control, so too had Siron. His body was no longer normal.
It had to be because he was becoming an omega.
The realization hit like a bucket of ice water.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“You promised. Now give me the phone!”
But Lewis, almost smugly, pulled Anna’s phone from the bag, powered both phones off, and tossed them into the trunk. He then slowly leaned toward Siron again. The motion felt like a predator closing in on prey, making Siron instinctively recoil.
“If you don’t want a kiss, how about a blowjob? Can I suck your cock instead?”
“You’re insane.”
“How the fuck else am I supposed to hold back?!”
There was no reasoning with a sex-crazed maniac. And apparently, no reasoning with Siron’s dick either. The damn thing twitched at Lewis’s words, shamelessly betraying him. If this kept going, Siron feared even he would give in to his own arousal. He turned and bolted from the car.
But Lewis was right behind him.
Siron sprinted down a narrow residential road, lined with small houses on either side. The moment of relief was brief—barely fifty meters later, a powerful arm wrapped around his waist and slammed him into the ground.
Unfortunately, they had stopped in the overgrown yard of what looked like an abandoned single-story home. Tall grass and weeds had taken over. Siron was flipped onto his back and pinned under Lewis’s crushing weight. Lewis’s breath hit his face. His burning gaze held him captive.
“Don’t—!”
But the words didn’t matter. Lewis seized his head and crashed their mouths together again. It was feral—ravenous, like trying to tear off flesh. Siron’s moans were swallowed, his lungs squeezed dry. Resistance was unthinkable. Lewis’s strength overwhelmed him completely.
Siron could feel the flood of pheromones pouring off him. His skin seemed to thirst for it—drawing Lewis’s scent in like a drug. Heat spread like wildfire, awakening a hunger so fierce it devoured reason.
Just before he passed out from lack of air, Lewis finally pulled back, panting, and ground his hips down.
“Stop—hng—stop!”
Lewis rubbed his lower body shamelessly against Siron’s. Even through the fabric, his cock was hot and hard. The friction made Siron dizzy with pleasure.
It felt like a wine bottle had been stuffed in his pants—thick and unyielding. Siron couldn’t help but imagine it inside him, reaching his deepest core. Lewis would own his body, wield it like his own domain. Just imagining it made Siron’s hips buck, and a sticky moan escaped his lips.
“Hng, nn... haah...”
“Wanna suck me off? Hm?”
“Fuck no. Haa... haah, fuck off...”
Lewis ignored the feeble protest. He undid Siron’s pants and pulled out his cock. Siron gasped again and again as the stimulation hit. The suction felt so strong it was like his dick might get ripped off. His whole body felt like it was being devoured.
“Ah—! Ngh! Haah, haa!”
Moans spilled helplessly from Siron’s parted lips. Letting go, giving in, there was no more restraint—only raw pleasure. He began to forget they were still in a suburban neighborhood. Only the feeling of Lewis’s tongue on his skin remained vivid. All sound beyond their breathing and moans disappeared from the world.
But the quiet didn’t last.
Suddenly, a neighbor’s dog began barking. Then another joined in, and another—setting off a chorus.
Even so, Siron didn’t want this torment to end. Right now, nothing mattered more than satisfying this craving.
“Haah... don’t stop. Please, keep going...”
He spread his legs wider, wrapping them around Lewis’s head. The feeling of warm, wet lips and tongue wrapping around his cock was divine. Even as lights came on in the house next door and a window creaked open, Siron didn’t care.
"You perverted freaks! Get the hell out before I call the cops!"
A furious middle-aged woman shouted from the window. But even with the shame of being seen by a stranger, Siron couldn’t bring himself to cover his exposed lower half. The fire in his body had to be extinguished. He didn’t care if his moans woke up the entire neighborhood—nothing else mattered but sex.
But Lewis clearly thought differently.
Apparently unwilling to broadcast a live sex show to the world, he pulled Siron’s pants back up, slung him over his shoulder, and bolted toward the car. He shoved Siron inside, jumped into the driver’s seat, and peeled out like lightning.
Siron, panting, rubbed his aching erection with trembling fingers. The saliva Lewis had left on him tingled and throbbed unbearably.
“Why... haah... why aren’t you finishing?”
“Just hold on. We need to go somewhere we won’t be interrupted.”
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