Chapter 2
T'Challa turned around and went into the room without a backward glance at Erik.
Erik obediently followed T'Challa into the marble foyer. His mind was still reeling in shock.
The door shut behind Erik, and there was a soft whirr as the lock automatically engaged, leaving him alone with T'Challa.
Erik looked around.
Damn.
The presidential suite was even more lavish than he had imagined. So luxurious that his jaw actually dropped upon taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows facing out towards the garden, the tasteful marble and hardwood fixtures, the long semi-curved sofa arranged in a half-ring around the giant LED television set.
This suite had to cost a bomb. T'Challa really was filthy rich.
(Erik's inner omega squealed with unabashed glee at that thought.)
T'Challa sat down on one of the sofas, relaxing into an easy sprawl. "Come here, love," T'Challa said.
Erik felt a tremor rush through his body at the endearment. Almost without conscious thought, his body responded to T'Challa's command. He crossed the room in large strides and climbed into T'Challa's lap, straddling him, both his knees on either side of T'Challa's body.
Erik buried his face into the crook of T'Challa's neck, inhaling the delicious alpha scent. The feeling of T'Challa against him - the incredible relief of T'Challa's cool skin brushing against Erik's own heated flesh - helped to temporarily soothe Erik's fevered mind, although he knew that he'd be entering full-blown heat very soon. Probably within the next half hour.
T'Challa wrapped Erik in a tight embrace, his hands coming up to cup and knead Erik's ass possessively.
"What's your name?" T'Challa asked, his voice deep and husky. "Or would you prefer that I call you E?"
"I'm Erik," Erik mumbled, squirming at the touch, even as he nuzzled into T'Challa's neck.
The proximity to an unbonded alpha toned down the worst of the hot flashes, helping to clear Erik's mind a little. It allowed Erik to rationalize what he was going to do next.
He was actually going to do it.
He was going to sleep with his cousin. His fucking arch-enemy.
He was really going to let T'Challa fuck him.
It's just sex, Erik told himself. It wasn't like this was going to change anything. He was just going to use T'Challa to satisfy a temporary biological need, that was all.
It might even work out in the long run, if it made T'Challa soften up towards Erik. T'Challa would become sloppier, make more mistakes around him. It would become that much easier for Erik to kill him.
Yeah.
Spending his heat with T'Challa was actually a good idea. A great idea!
Everything was definitely going to work out.
And it wasn't as if Erik had no choice in this matter. He did. Now that his mind was clearer, Erik believed that if he really wanted to, he could summon up enough willpower to turn around and walk away from T'Challa right now. There was an abundance of other unbonded alphas out there who would be willing to fuck him.
In fact, now that he was coming into full-blown heat, Erik could walk out the door right now and hook any alpha he wanted. In a pinch, he supposed that he could probably bang the housekeeper he had just passed by in the corridor. No other alpha would possibly be able to turn him down.
But Erik didn't want those other alphas. He just wanted T'Challa.
T'Challa smelled so damned good. He was so rich and handsome. Dominant, yet caring. Every instinct in Erik's body screamed that he would be such a good mate. A good father to their cubs.
Erik had to bond him right now! He had to lock T'Challa down and bear his cubs before another horrible omega slut sank their hooks into him and snatched him away -
NO.
T'Challa was still his enemy, for God's sake. He couldn't let himself lose sight of that.
"Just so you know, before we start," Erik said indignantly, pulling away from T'Challa, "I ain't gonna let you bond me. I ain't gonna bear your cubs."
T'Challa blinked up at him. "Of course, Erik. I thought we had already agreed on that."
"I got rights. And I know the law," Erik continued regardless, baring his teeth a little. He had to drive this point in before the madness of full-blown heat came upon him and he lost his mind completely. "I already said no. Now I can kill you if you bond me. And I've already told my roommate and a bunch of friends and my academic adviser that I wasn't gonna bond anyone. I even told the concierge downstairs. I got it down in writing from you too. If I come out of this heat bonded to you, you're fucking dead. I'm not kidding."
Erik sat back on his heels, breathing slightly hard, waiting for T'Challa's reaction.
The last few alphas Erik had spent his heats with had become extremely angry upon receiving this speech. They had been insulted that Erik would go to such lengths to protect himself. As if Erik would be foolish enough not to do so, when being bonded had such serious repercussions on an omega.
The alpha-omega bond altered an omega's physiology and allowed the bonded omega to bear their alpha's cubs at will. Bonded omegas were perennially fertile, unlike unbonded omegas, who were only fertile when they were in heat. However, the most drastic effect of the bond wasn't its effect on the omega's physiology. It was the bond's effect on the omega's mind.
A bonded omega would instinctively seek out love, comfort and protection from their bonded alpha; and a bonded alpha would instinctively seek to offer care, comfort and protection to their bonded omega. Erik knew that if he ever bonded with an alpha, the emotional neediness which he was currently feeling in his heat state would extend to the rest of his life. Admittedly at a much lower intensity, but Erik still saw it as a violation of his freedom, no matter how slight.
The mind-altering nature of the alpha-omega bond meant that it was a serious crime to force a bond on an unconsenting omega, or even on an omega who had only consented under the influence of heat. The law was on Erik's side in this. Erik was legally allowed to kill any alpha who bonded or attempted to bond him without his express consent.
Erik didn't care if his precautions offended T'Challa. He would rather die than be bonded to any alpha.
However, T'Challa did not appear to be offended. There was nothing but compassion and understanding in his eyes as he looked up at Erik. "I understand, Erik. Don't worry. I will not bond you," T'Challa said seriously.
"You're not angry?" Erik asked suspiciously, still tensed for a fight.
"No, of course not. In fact, I think that was very smart of you," T'Challa assured him.
Erik couldn't help preening at the praise from his alpha, leaning back into T'Challa's touch.
"Is there anything else that you're worried about, love? Anything that you want to tell me?" T'Challa asked, stroking Erik's back.
"Nah. You can do anything you want to me. Just no bonding." Erik said, burying his face into T'Challa's neck again. "Y'know, you're really nice. I didn't think -"
Erik cut himself off, horrified that he had blurted out something so embarrassing.
But T'Challa just laughed, a deep rumble that reverberated through his body.
"Strip," T'Challa ordered, giving Erik a little push off his lap. "Slowly. I want to watch you."
Erik inhaled sharply, his pulse pounding faster as he tugged his thin blue shirt over his head. He fumbled with the fastening on his pants before letting them slide down to pool around his ankles. With a crook of his finger, T'Challa motioned for Erik to turn on the spot, letting T'Challa take in the full view. Erik could feel the weight of his alpha's heated gaze on him, taking in every inch of bare skin as it was slowly revealed.
Damn. T'Challa was good at this. He was so commanding. So dominant, as if it came naturally to him. Erik bit his lip, feeling himself getting wet at the thought. A gentle heat burned under his skin, a low simmer that would soon roar into a blazing fire.
"Beautiful," T'Challa murmured, running his cool fingers lightly over Erik's chest. "On your knees, now. Suck me."
Erik scrambled to obey, falling to his knees before T'Challa. He buried his nose in T'Challa's crotch, breathing in the delicious musky scent of his alpha's arousal. T'Challa was already half-hard as Erik eagerly freed his cock from his pants. Erik wasted no time, running his thumb over the head of T'Challa's cock, spreading the pre-come around his slit, down his length. Erik licked his lips once, anxiously wetting them before he leaned forward, catching the head of T'Challa's cock in his mouth.
"Good boy," T'Challa murmured fondly as he patted Erik's cheek. Erik couldn't stifle a little muffled groan of neediness at the praise. He let his eyelids flutter shut and began to suck in earnest, his universe narrowing down to the exquisite feeling of T'Challa's hot, thick cock stretching his mouth open, just barely brushing against the back of his throat.
T'Challa didn't fuck Erik's mouth brutally, as any other alpha might have done - he didn't push Erik all the way down to choke on his cock. Instead, he allowed Erik to set the pace and the rhythm, steadying Erik with a gentle hand pressed against the back of his head, stroking through Erik's locs.
Erik bobbed up and down on his alpha's cock, mouth hollowing with each suck, taking time to lavish licks and kisses near the tip and on the sensitive underside. The room was filled with the wet sounds of Erik lapping obscenely at T'Challa's cock, Erik's little moans as he gasped and swallowed around T'Challa's hard length, letting the salty taste of T'Challa's pre-come fill his tongue, enjoying the way T'Challa's thigh muscles tensed and bunched against his cheek.
Somehow, the knowledge that it was his enemy that he was sucking off just made Erik even more turned on.
T'Challa began to thrust up a little into Erik's mouth, and Erik gasped, feeling tears start to gather in the corners of his eyes as T'Challa fucked his mouth. For the first time during any of his heats, Erik's own pleasure took a back seat. His mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of pleasing his alpha, making his alpha feel good -
"Enough, Erik," T'Challa finally said, sounding a little ragged. "Get up now."
Erik made a small noise of protest as T'Challa's cock slipped from his wet lips, but got quiet as T'Challa patted his lap, gesturing for Erik to sit. "I want you to ride my cock," T'Challa said.
Erik's knees were sore as he stood up from his prolonged kneeling position, but T'Challa's hands were on his hips, holding him steady as he helped Erik onto the sofa.
Erik straddled T'Challa again, feeling the tip of T'Challa's cock rub briefly against his rim as he settled himself into T'Challa's lap. He braced himself with both hands on either side of T'Challa's shoulders as T'Challa positioned Erik over his cock.
"Do you want prep first, love?" T'Challa asked, his voice rough with desire.
"Fuck no! It's fine, I'm wet enough." Erik was too eager to get the fuck on with it. He began to sink slowly down on T'Challa's cock, biting his lip as the tip breached his slick hole. He tried to relax, squeezing his eyes shut at the burn of the intrusion as he settled down inch by inch, panting with the effort as he finally bottomed out.
"Whenever you're ready," T'Challa murmured.
Erik immediately lifted himself up, rolling his hips as he grinded down into T'Challa's cock. T'Challa thrust upwards to meet him. The slap of his groin against Erik's ass, the way his cock drove even further into him, made Erik cry out. His muscles burned with the strain of holding himself up, of fucking himself up and down on T'Challa's cock as he set a hard, fast rhythm.
The heat was starting to burn hotter now, beginning to ramp up. Erik's moans became quicker, more highly-pitched as he rode T'Challa's cock, pleas spilling almost unconsciously from his mouth: 'Challa, and alpha, please, harder.
T'Challa's hips snapped up to meet Erik with each grind downwards, each clench of Erik's ass. Each hard thrust made Erik gasp and tense, drawing an approving grunt from T'Challa. T'Challa's hand moved, coming up from its firm grip on Erik's hips to brush against the bonding gland on the base of Erik's neck -
- and Erik was gone, coming with a cry all over his belly and T'Challa's undoubtedly very expensive shirt. Slick gushed from his hole, trickling down onto the inside of T'Challa's spread thighs as he spasmed around T'Challa's cock.
T'Challa continued to fuck him relentlessly, speeding up even more as he bounced Erik up and down in his lap. Erik could feel the base of T'Challa's cock expanding against his cheeks, catching at the rim of his hole with each thrust.
"Knot me, " Erik begged, throwing his head back to bare his neck to T'Challa. "T'Challa, please, I need it, please - "
He gasped as T'Challa's knot expanded fully within him, stretching him open as T'Challa came inside him with a grunt. The stretch was so wide that it was almost painful, even with the gush of slick and come within him. Erik squirmed in discomfort, but T'Challa's hands were gripping Erik's hips again, firm and cool against Erik's skin as he held his omega in place on his knot.
"Stay still," T'Challa growled in his ear. "Or I'll spank you."
Erik whimpered. Defiantly, he rocked a little in T'Challa's lap, trying to get comfortable even with T'Challa's knot still buried deep within his ass, thick and hot.
"Naughty," T'Challa said, his voice low and amused. He didn't follow through with his threat, although he did reach back to pinch Erik's ass once, hard enough to make him yelp at the sting and clench down hard on T'Challa's knot again. "Settle down now."
Erik complied, resting his head against T'Challa's shoulder and trying to steady his breathing. He blinked away the tears in his eyes, still trembling a little from the aftershocks of his orgasm.
Distantly, Erik could feel the heat continue to burn under his skin. Like a stove turned down to simmer for the moment, but he knew that soon he'd be blazing alight. For the moment, Erik just allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of T'Challa's cool skin against him.
T'Challa still appeared to be completely composed, even after reducing Erik to a shaky, tearful mess. The only thing that betrayed his calm was the tiniest flecks of gold in his irises.
With a single, slender finger, T'Challa tilted Erik's chin up, leaning forward to press their lips together in a soft kiss - their first kiss. It was sweet and lingering, and Erik sighed at the brush of T'Challa's lips against his own, the stroke of T'Challa's thumb against his cheek. He allowed himself to melt fully into T'Challa's embrace.
"Damn, T'Challa," Erik said after they finally broke away. His voice was trembling slightly. "You're like, made of steel. How come you aren't affected? None of my other alphas ever -"
"Do not speak of other alphas now," T'Challa interrupted in a low growl, his eyes flaring gold.
Erik whimpered, flinching in the face of T'Challa's anger. The instinctive compulsion to appease his alpha was immediate and automatic, overwhelming what little remained of Erik's reason. "Sorry, alpha, I'm sorry -"
"Shhh, love. It's all right. Calm down," T'Challa soothed, pressing another kiss against Erik's forehead. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to get angry with you. And to answer your question, I am indeed affected by you. I just have a lot of self-control. It also helps that you're not in full heat yet. Once that happens, I will be much less restrained."
"It's gonna start real soon," Erik warned. He could feel it happening - the fire was starting to build up in his blood now, crescendoing to an almost painful burn. His skin was beginning to get uncomfortably hot and tingly.
"Let's take this to the bedroom," T'Challa said. His knot had deflated enough for him to slide Erik off. "Put your arms around me."
Erik wound his arms around T'Challa's neck, and T'Challa lifted Erik easily off the sofa as if he weighed nothing. He moved towards the bedroom in quick, long strides. Erik buried his face in his alpha's neck, moaning as he rubbed against T'Challa's cool skin, trying and failing to find relief.
T'Challa placed Erik gently on the bed. Erik groaned at the loss of skin on skin contact, feeling uncomfortably lost and alone. The heat madness was finally, fully upon him now.
Fire pounded through Erik's blood, burning all reason from his mind. He couldn't even breathe without pain. Each breath dragged from the air felt as if it were burning in his lungs.
"Fuck me," Erik begged, spreading his legs wide apart. Slick trickled down his inner thighs, wetting the pristine white sheets "Fuck me, alpha, please, please, I need you, please, it hurts, I'm gonna die - "
T'Challa was on him in a flash, eyes glowing gold. Erik shut his eyes in blissful relief as his alpha's cock thrust into him again, hard and sudden, enough to make him scream.
Two times on the bed, and once more in the shower. Now Erik was bent over the side of the bed, feet on the ground with his round ass in the air. T'Challa was fucking him fast and hard, pounding into Erik mercilessly as Erik squirmed on his cock, stifling his breathy moans into the pillow. There was no more gentleness in T'Challa's movements now, only the hard pistoning of his hips, in and out.
Erik thrust back, begging for more each time. wanting, needing to be fully connected with his alpha. To be fucked and bonded and bred.
"Bond me," Erik begged, letting his head fall forward to expose the base of his neck. "Alpha, please!"
Behind him, T'Challa stilled. "No."
Erik cried out in frustration and distress. Why? What had he done wrong? Why didn't his alpha want him? Wasn't he good enough?
"Shh, love. You're perfect. You're so good for me. I'm going to make you feel so good." T'Challa murmured soothing praise into Erik's ear as he began to thrust again.
It was enough to distract the mindless animal within Erik. He settled down, fingers twisting and clutching the sheets as T'Challa began to fuck him once again.
Later on, when his senses had returned to him again, Erik would think back on this moment with a mixture of relief and morbid curiosity, wondering at what could have happened.
Night had fallen.
Erik's heat was in a lull now. The heat came and went in waves, peaking and lulling. During each lull, Erik's mind would briefly clear, as if he were swimming up through a thick fog.
Currently, Erik's mind was clear enough for him to take stock of the situation. He felt exhausted and pleasantly sore all over. He'd lost count of how many times he'd been fucked.
T'Challa really had incredible stamina. He didn't even seem the least bit tired. None of the other alphas he'd previously been with could come close, although of course they didn't have the benefit of being magically enhanced.
Erik wondered if he ought to try and call T'Challa out on it - make some sort of sarcastic remark on T'Challa's prowess - but he decided that he was just too warm and comfortable right now to be properly snarky.
Right now, Erik was curled up against T'Challa, obediently opening his mouth every couple of minutes to eat a small piece of sandwich off T'Challa's fingers.
"Ain't hungry," Erik had protested the first time T'Challa had ordered room service, but a sharp look from his alpha had been enough to quell him. "You need to stay hydrated, Erik. And you need to eat."
T'Challa had arranged a pile of pillows for Erik to rest against, but Erik preferred to curl around his alpha instead, with his head resting in T'Challa's lap. He liked the feeling of T'Challa's cool skin against his own. T'Challa's proximity made him feel safe. Cared for. Happy.
Erik hadn't felt so good in a very, very long time.
"How much longer, do you think?" T'Challa asked, stroking Erik's warm forehead.
"Dunno. Heat feels more distant now. I think it's starting to wind down," Erik mumbled. "Still want you to fuck me, though."
T'Challa laughed. "Eat more first, love," he said, bringing another piece of bread to Erik's lips. Erik took extra care to lap at T'Challa's slender fingers, enjoying his short little inhale of breath. T'Challa barely lost control of himself, even when faced with an omega in heat. Erik would take what he could get.
Erik was cuddled in T'Challa's arms. They had fallen asleep together during one of the lull periods. Erik's head was resting on T'Challa's forearm as T'Challa spooned him from the back. T'Challa's breath was coming warmly against his neck, right above his mating gland.
Wait. Warmth? His alpha ought to be feeling cool to the touch.
That meant that his heat was finally ramping down. The fog was finally lifting from Erik's mind, the hormone-driven urge to mate finally leaving Erik's body.
Erik sighed, then stretched out, trying to relax his sore muscles. The urge to be fucked was gone, finally. Now he just wanted to be petted and cuddled instead.
"T'Challa? Wake up," Erik whispered, nudging T'Challa. "I think it's over."
T'Challa snuffled in his sleep, but was otherwise unresponsive.
Erik sighed in frustration, then untangled himself from the sleeping alpha's arms without disturbing him. He'd wash up first, then wake T'Challa up so that T'Challa could pet him properly.
Erik got out of bed, wincing at the soreness in his ass.
He bent over and pressed a light, brief kiss on T'Challa's cheek before padding over to the ensuite toilet, flicking on the light switch as he passed. Almost on automatic, Erik bent over the sink, splashing some cold water onto his face, and then -
The sheer magnitude of what he'd just done suddenly came crashing down upon Erik.
Erik froze, stiffening.
He jerked his head up to look at himself in the mirror. His own panicked, wide-eyed reflection stared back at him.
Fuck. I've fucked up.
It began to dawn on Erik that that he had made a terrible, horrible mistake. And all because of his own hubris.
For some inexplicable reason, Erik had thought that sleeping with T'Challa would somehow give Erik the upper hand. Would weaken T'Challa, make T'Challa soften towards him.
Instead, Erik was the one who now felt like an absolute mess.
He glanced over his shoulder at T'Challa's sleeping form on the bed, feeling his own heart clench. There was a soft, tender ache in his chest.
T'Challa had been so good to him over the past two days. Firm, but caring. Dominant, but gentle. And he'd fucked Erik so well that Erik could barely walk.
Fuck.
He never should have spent his heat with T'Challa. That had been a terrible, horrible idea.
How could he possibly have known that T'Challa would be such a good mate?
All Erik wanted to do right now was return to the bedroom and snuggle back into the safety of his alpha's arms. To wake T'Challa up, confess everything to him, and then beg T'Challa to comfort him and make things right.
NO.
Erik couldn't let things spiral any further out of his control. The next thing he knew, he would be begging for T'Challa to bond him and knock him up.
That thought now sent a pleasant frisson of excitement and anticipation through Erik, instead of the horrified rejection that he ought to have felt.
NO. Fuck!
He was so far gone. T'Challa had really ruined him.
This was all T'Challa's fault.
Erik bared his teeth at himself in the mirror, trying to work up some of his original animosity towards his cousin.
It didn't come. There was only that horrible, awful fondness.
Fuck!
Erik dropped his head into his hands. He was fucked.
There was really only one possible way to deal with this.
Erik tiptoed back into the room, trying not to make too much noise. Thankfully, T'Challa was still fast asleep. He hadn't even moved from his original position.
Erik picked his clothes up off the floor and got dressed as quickly as possible.
Then, gritting his teeth, he let himself out of the room before he could do anything else that he'd later regret.