Omega Teacher’s Secret Page 3

  Brad growled, hunger coursing through his veins. McMillan wanted him. He wanted Brad’s cock plunging inside, and Brad tangled his fingers in McMillan’s wispy hair.

  He was fond of his professor, yes. But beneath that, there was a raging undercurrent that demanded he claim this omega as his.

  Hadn’t felt this way about anyone else. Hadn’t felt comfortable until now.

  “You’re gonna need to keep quiet,” Brad growled, dragging his nose up McMillan’s cheek. Traced the hard line of McMillan’s cock through his pants; it jerked against his fingertips. “Gonna be fucking you hard.”

  McMillan froze, his mouth falling open. “Yes,” he groaned, and the scent of his musk filled Brad’s lungs, made something behind his stomach yank.

  Blood surged down between Brad’s legs. His cock grew harder, somehow, so big that it fucking hurt. He panted. Needed air. Needed to cover McMillan in his scent.

  “Think—think I’m in a rut,” Brad gasped, tipping McMillan’s face back, dragging his lips down McMillan’s exposed throat. Reached between his own legs, adjusting his cock through his jeans.

  McMillan whimpered, his fingers twisting into Brad’s shirt, his chest heaving. “This… isn’t a good idea.”

  But he was reaching up, dragging his hands over Brad’s bulge, his fingers searching, hungry. McMillan squeezed Brad through his jeans, and Brad swore, rocking into his hands.

  Needed to free his cock, let McMillan touch every last inch. Show McMillan what Brad would use to fuck him.

  McMillan shuddered, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

  Brad hadn’t had another omega this hungry before. Hadn’t been needed like McMillan needed him.

  No one else had looked at him with eyes so desperate, except McMillan.

  “You want my cock.” Brad slid his lips up along McMillan’s throat, breathing in musk and rose. “You want to be thoroughly fucked. Like the last time.”

  McMillan groaned, and when Brad kissed up his jaw, McMillan turned his face so their lips met. Brad’s hunger roared in his chest.

  “Please,” McMillan whimpered.

  Brad devoured him.

  3

  Ian

  Brad’s kiss seared into Ian’s skin, igniting his nerves. His mouth was damp, soft, and Ian opened for him on instinct, welcoming Brad inside. He needed to ease the hunger in his veins, needed to stop the ache in his body. Every cell screamed at him to take Brad’s cock right now, and it was all Ian could do not to strip.

  This was the wrong place for it. Brad was his student.

  And yet the moment Brad dragged his palm down Ian’s chest, Ian lost the will to protest. Hadn’t had anyone touch him like he was the most desirable person in the world.

  There had been alphas in Ian’s past, people he’d dated here and there, a boyfriend he’d almost been serious with. Those alphas had been okay.

  Then there was Brad, who swallowed the sounds Ian made in his throat. Brad, who reached between them, cupped Ian’s cock and squeezed, stroking harder when Ian gasped.

  Gonna be fucking you hard, Brad had said.

  “Brad,” Ian moaned.

  Brad slanted his lips so their mouths meshed better. Then he plunged his tongue into Ian’s mouth, claiming him inside. He tasted like coffee and a hint of dinner, and he pinned Ian against the desk, grinding his thick bulge against Ian’s hips. It was heavy on Ian, hungry.

  Ian groaned, his briefs stuck to his skin, drenched with slick. He needed Brad’s cock opening him up.

  “Sh-Shouldn’t,” he gasped, rocking back.

  “Shouldn’t what?” Brad growled. He slid his other hand around Ian, squeezed his ass, and pushed his fingers up between Ian’s cheeks, right against his covered hole. “Want me here?”

  Ian shuddered, falling against Brad, his cock trapped and aching.

  It had been so long since anyone was inside him, and Brad—Brad felt decadent, with his strong chest, his thick biceps. He crowded Ian against the desk, yanked Ian’s shirt out of his pants, and ran his hot palm up Ian’s side.

  “I’m—I’m older than you,” Ian panted. “Twice your age.”

  “You’re still hard for me,” Brad growled. “You were the last time I saw you, and you still are right now.”

  He hefted Ian onto the desk, then grabbed Ian’s cock through his pants, squeezing it so hard that Ian jerked, pleasure humming through his veins.

  “D-doesn’t mean we should.”

  “Tell me you don’t want this.”

  Brad caught Ian’s wrist, pressing Ian’s hand between his legs. Then he dragged his cock down Ian’s palm, grinding hot and heavy against it.

  Holy hell, but Brad was big.

  Ian wanted every inch of that inside him, plowing through his body, stroking him thoroughly.

  If anyone saw them right now, if the department head had the slightest idea Ian was doing this with his son…

  Brad pushed Ian’s legs open, stepping between them. Then he sucked Ian’s lip into his mouth, rubbing Ian’s nipples. A jolt of pleasure scorched down Ian’s spine. He bared his teeth, a low whine slipping from his throat.

  “Very nice,” Brad rumbled, reaching lower. He squeezed Ian’s balls so they tightened, heavy with come.

  It hadn’t even been five minutes, and Brad had all the control over Ian’s body.

  Ian closed his eyes. He was supposed to be above this. He was supposed to resist everything that Brad was.

  Brad kissed him again, sucking on Ian’s tongue. His lips were soft, his tongue stroking against Ian’s. Then he anchored his hands around Ian’s hips, pulled him to the edge of the desk, and pressed their cocks together. Pushed down on Ian’s. Ian shuddered with pleasure.

  What was he doing, his cock rubbing against his student’s?

  “That’s all for you,” Brad growled into Ian’s mouth. “Been hard the whole class. Wanted to show you this.”

  Ian whimpered. He reached between them, tugging on Brad’s belt. Brad groaned, releasing Ian so he could open his pants. Before he could reach for his cock, Ian slipped his fingers into Brad’s boxers, finding his hot, velvety length, the thick ridge on its underside, the velvety skin at his tip.

  “Fuck, yeah.” Brad held Ian’s hand to his cock, thrust against his palm just like he would inside Ian’s ass. Ian’s hole squeezed.

  “I need to—to see,” Ian panted.

  Brad smirked. He peeled his boxers off his cock, angled himself down so the light of the visualizer stroked over his skin.

  It looked just like Ian remembered, except bigger, its skin flushed, its tip wet with precome. Brad gripped his base, rubbed his cock down Ian’s belly, leaving a damp trail over Ian’s skin. Then he curled his fingers into Ian’s waistband, and pushed his cock down into Ian’s pants, so his tip shoved down into Ian’s hair, rubbing against his cock.

  Ian’s cheeks burned. Being touched like this? He’d never even dreamed about it. And yet he loved it, Brad fucking into his pants.

  Ian rocked against Brad, trying to find more pressure. He wanted to turn over, wanted to spread his cheeks, present himself to Brad. Wanted Brad to see his hole, touch it, open it up with his cock.

  Instead, Brad leaned in, smelling like smoke and ash, like walnut and musk. Ian closed his eyes, filling his lungs with his alpha’s scent. He never had an alpha fall into a rut with him, until Brad.

  Brad reached up, sliding his fingers into Ian’s hair. He tipped Ian’s face up, kissed him again.

  This time, his kiss scorched. His tongue swept into Ian’s mouth, fucking Ian like he would Ian’s ass. Ian trembled. He reached for Brad, found his solid pecs, the grooves of his abs.

  Brad was so strong, and yet when he pressed Ian down against the desk, his hands were careful, like he didn’t want to hurt Ian.

  So Ian raked his nails down Brad’s sides, trying to make him go harder.

  Brad growled. He slipped his cock out of Ian’s pants, then curled his fingers around Ian’s cock. “Want this to be mine,” B
rad whispered, squeezing down its length. “Want you to scream my name. Make you come all over the desk.”

  Brad caught Ian beneath the knees and hefted his legs up, pinning him open. And now Ian was flat against the desk, opened up like a sacrifice on the altar.

  If Brad was the god who would devour him, Ian wouldn’t mind that at all.

  “You smell so damn good,” Brad whispered, kissing Ian’s neck.

  He closed his mouth around Ian’s scent gland and sucked, and Ian shuddered, pleasure rushing through his body, his nails biting into Brad’s hips. “F-fuck. Please!”

  A slow smile crept through Brad’s face, half-lit by the glow of the visualizer. “Fuck what?”

  “Me.”

  Brad’s eyes gleamed, all molten honey, and Ian’s cock hurt.

  Brad unbuttoned Ian’s shirt with shaky fingers, pushing it off Ian’s shoulders. Ian glimpsed the straight, silvery scars on his upper arm, and stopped breathing. A tendril of shame coiled into his chest, cutting through his arousal.

  “Wait,” he said, grabbing Brad’s hand. “Not this way.”

  Brad raised his eyebrows.

  “I want to bend over,” Ian said. “Go as hard as you want.”

  Brad groaned, reaching down to pump his cock. “Fuck, professor.”

  Ian winced. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Then what do I call you? Ian?”

  That sounded more intimate than either of them should be.

  “Ian,” Brad said, trying the name out on his tongue.

  Ian blushed. His name sounded better when Brad was the one saying it.

  “Wanted you for so long, Ian,” Brad murmured. “Gonna fuck you good and hard.”

  Ian gulped, turning his back toward Brad. Then, he bent over.

  Brad sucked in a sharp breath. He dug his fingers into Ian’s waistband, shoved down Ian’s pants, so the cool air of the classroom brushed Ian’s skin.

  The pressure at Ian’s hips eased; his cock dragged damply against the desk, leaving a trail of precome.

  “You look so good,” Brad growled, cupping Ian’s ass.

  Then he pushed his hot cock between Ian’s cheeks, opening him up with his sheer thickness. Ian scrabbled for something to hold onto. So he wasn’t fucking himself on Brad’s cock.

  But what was the point of holding back?

  Brad ground against his hole, and Ian jerked.

  “Need,” he panted.

  Brad reached around, closing his fist around Ian’s cock. “Can’t see. Wanna see this when I fuck you. Wanna see you come.”

  “Not sure how you can do that,” Ian said.

  Brad chuckled, low and gravelly. “Really? It’s right in front of you.”

  He reached forward, pulling on the visualizer’s mechanical arm. Brad tugged the arm closer, then angled the camera so it pointed down at Ian’s cock.

  The camera focused. The image flashed onto the projector screen behind the desk, and Ian’s face scorched.

  He’d seen his cock, sure. But there was nothing like seeing your most intimate parts magnified by a hundred times, your flushed tip pushing out of your foreskin, dripping precome onto the desk. And Brad was looking at it, his eyes catching every incriminating detail of Ian’s arousal.

  “Very nice,” he growled.

  He took Ian’s tip between his fingers, squeezing it to open Ian’s glistening piss-slit. More precome leaked onto the desk. Then Brad dragged Ian’s foreskin back, exposing the entire tip of his cock.

  Ian’s face burned. “This is obscene.”

  “This is you horny for me.” Brad’s pride was apparent in his voice. He closed his fingers around Ian’s cock, pumping it base to tip.

  Ian threw his head back, throbbing in Brad’s fist.

  Someone could come looking for them. They were in class. Except the blinds were shut, the doors were locked, and there was only the sharp rasp of their breathing, and Ian’s heart pounding in his ears.

  “Mine,” Brad whispered.

  He dragged the scent glands on his wrists down Ian’s chest, over his belly, then down his cock, marking Ian’s skin with walnut. Ian groaned, trembling. He wanted to be Brad’s. It was wrong, and right now, Ian didn’t care.

  Brad reached down, grasped Ian’s bare cheeks, and pulled them apart. So he exposed Ian’s hole, and Brad could slide into him so very easily.

  “Last chance to say no.” Brad’s breath puffed hot in Ian’s hair. He nudged his blunt tip against Ian’s entrance, a thick, firm pressure. Ian rocked back, trying to take him inside.

  “Stop teasing, damn you!” Ian hissed.

  Brad growled. Then he slung his muscular arm around Ian’s chest, and with his other hand, he held Ian’s hips against himself. Pushed his tip between Ian’s cheeks, rocking it up and down, until it caught against Ian’s hole and sank in.

  Ian cried out, his body stretching open around Brad, his cock pulsing. Brad was a thick, unyielding length inside him, thrusting deeper and deeper, until it felt as though there was nothing inside Ian that he hadn’t claimed.

  “Fuck, you’re tight,” Brad growled, pinning Ian against the desk. Then he pushed all the way in, and Ian panted. Had no words to respond.

  Brad slipped his hand around Ian’s cock. Held him there. Then he bent Ian forward a little, and began to thrust, every stroke sending sparks of pleasure down Ian’s nerves.

  Ian’s breath shook out of him. The used sheets of papers crumpled in his hands, and he didn’t know who he was anymore.

  It was better than all the fantasies he’d had on lonely nights, even better than seven years ago, when Brad had held him.

  Because Brad was holding him now, he was fucking Ian, his chest pressed against Ian’s back. Ian sank back down onto him, trying to make him go deeper, trying to show Brad how much he wanted this.

  Brad growled. Snapped his hips, so he dragged a line of pleasure through Ian’s body, made his cock jerk.

  Then Brad built a rhythm, thrusting deep. It was all Ian could do to keep himself on his feet. A couple times, Brad fucked right up against his prostate. Ian cried out. Brad tried to replicate those thrusts. Ian shuddered, incoherent sounds falling from his lips.

  This? It felt right. Ian belonging to an alpha, Ian’s alpha touching him, marking Ian as his own.

  “I can’t—can’t hold on,” Ian panted, his body tightening, his cock over-sensitive in Brad’s hand. “Brad—please.”

  “Come for me,” Brad growled.

  He fucked in, hard and vicious, his hips slamming against Ian’s. Ian’s eyes rolled back in his head, his need climbing. His body felt like a bundle of nerves, right on the edge of release.

  Then he came in a rush of pleasure, his toes curling, his body clenching around Brad’s cock. Couldn’t think with the sensations rocking through his body.

  Behind him, Brad swore, his hands gripping Ian’s hips, his cock jerking as he came, filling Ian with his seed.

  For a while, Ian drifted. He thought of nothing but white noise, the aftershocks of sensation in his body, and Brad’s strong arms around him. It was good. He didn’t know when he’d last experienced this, being fucked so thoroughly he could do nothing but relax.

  He breathed in. Waited for his heart to slow. Brad’s lips dragged over his shoulders, his fingers stroking down Ian’s arms.

  When Ian opened his eyes, he saw the bright glow of the visualizer. Beyond that, the shadowy darkness of the room. They were in a classroom. He’d been using the visualizer to teach.

  Hell, he was a professor, and here he was, his spent cock on the projector screen, flushed and shameful.

  Ian groaned, covering his cock. He needed to hide his face. “Shit.”

  Brad kissed his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Do you want my knot?”

  Ian paused, torn. Brad’s knot was already starting to swell, stretching him open. It felt good, and Ian wanted to sink back, take Brad’s knot so it soothed his body.

  “I shouldn’t,” he said.

  Brad pulled ba
ck, his knot stretching Ian’s hole, easing out. Ian groaned. Then Brad slid out of him in a whisper of velvety skin, and Ian fought down the pang of longing in his chest.

  It had been a while since he’d taken a knot. He shouldn’t want Brad back inside him.

  “You okay?” Brad rumbled, his palm resting on Ian’s hip.

  No, Ian wasn’t okay.

  He smelled the heady scent of musk, and beneath that, rose and walnut. Ian closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands. At least winter break started tomorrow, and no one would smell the evidence of what they’d done in this classroom. “I’m fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “It shouldn’t matter to you.”

  “What if I said it does?” Brad kissed his shoulder.

  “You shouldn’t be here at all.”

  Ian’s heart squeezed. He wasn’t sure he could face the shame of Brad leaving, the moment he’d had his fill of Ian. Brad hadn’t yet, but he would soon. He looked good, and Ian knew there were omegas out there falling over themselves for an alpha like him.

  “I’m not your type. I’m just… some professor. You shouldn’t be getting involved with me.”

  “You don’t even know what my type is.”

  Ian chuckled, mirthless. “It should be a young omega, someone who’s all sweet and good for you.”

  Brad snorted. “What if I said I want you anyway?”

  “Sounds impossible.”

  Brad stepped closer. He turned Ian around, pressing their foreheads together. “If I just wanted you for sex, I wouldn’t have come to class for three whole months, just hoping to see you.”

  It sounded implausible. And yet it made Ian’s heart patter.

  You can’t want me that much. No one does.

  This close, Brad’s eyes were a blur of brown. He leaned in, almost touching their lips together. Ian turned away.

  Twice was bad enough. He couldn’t let this go on. Hell, Harold Saxon was Ian’s boss, and if he found out about any of this… “Don’t tell your dad this happened, all right?”

  Brad narrowed his eyes. “Why would I even tell him?”

  “Just—just making sure.” Ian winced. “It’s a mess even without him interfering.”