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Heated

you aren't going to let anything come in the way of your first big solo interview. at least that's what you think, until you meet a certain black jackals outside hitter who triggers something deep inside you...

pairing: alpha!sakusa kiyoomi x omega!female reader, nsfw a/b/o pwp, 5.7k (as usual, 18+, mdni)

warnings: unprotected sex (birth control mention), fated pairs because i'm a sucker for it, creampie (knotting), biting and marking/claiming, idk it's pretty vanilla so have fun

notes: written for @daichidaichidaichi's "in heat" collab—masterpost found here!

thank you to: @anime-nymph, @vanille--kiss and @kinsurou for betaing this for me <3 and for other members of the church of meian for helping me with the dynamics because this is my first a/b/o piece ever ahhh

You had been so excited when your boss asked you to attend the annual end of the year awards ceremony for the V. League. It was a big step up from the little interviews you had attended here and there and you accepted without a second thought. It had already been hard to get this job—being an Omega in an Alpha-dominated sports field had made people look down on you and your abilities at first—but you kept your head down, dismissed the little whispers behind your back, and worked your way up to this opportunity for over a year now.

You make sure to wear your best floor-length dress, heels a bit too tall so you won’t seem out of place with the giant players around you, and your over-the-shoulder bag is packed with your tape recorder, microphone, question list, and emergency suppressant medicine. You check that everything is in place one more time before the car pulls up to your apartment, resolve burning in your veins. You aren’t going to let anything interrupt your biggest chance to get your name out there, not if you could help it.

When your car arrives at the hotel, you try not to show how out of place you feel. Everyone here is so attractive: models hanging off of players’ arms, getting their pictures taken; brand name suits everywhere you can see, wrists and necks dripping with expensive watches and jewelry; confident (and dare you say cocky) smiles as they make their way inside. You follow in their stead, waving to your co-worker Yamaguchi as he takes pictures of the entrants. He mouths something that looks like ‘I’ll find you later’ and you give him a thumbs up before you enter the building.

There are round tables stretched out all over the ballroom you’re led to, decorated with white tablecloths and centerpieces made of flowers in mixed colors that indicate the different teams' tables. There’s a bar off to the left of the room that’s already packed, and an attendant offers you a flute of champagne as he passes by. You down it in record time, trying to settle your nerves as you find the table for press. It’s off to the side by the right wall, next to the white screens set up for interviews that are set to start in a few minutes. You grab your recorder and microphone, making sure everything is working correctly when there’s a tap on your shoulder.

“You all set?” Yamaguchi asks with a happy smile. You’re immediately at ease; Yamaguchi has been nothing but welcoming to you since you started at the company, a rare Beta who didn’t judge you for being an Omega.

“Yes, thank you. Just a bit nervous for my first solo interview.”

“You’re gonna do great,” he compliments as he sets the camera on the table in front of his seat. “You’ve been working on those questions for a week now.”

“I wanted them to be unique,” you pout, pulling out the paper to check over your topics one more time. “Now I’m worried that they’re stupid.”

“No, I—that’s not what I meant, sorry.” Yamaguchi ruffles the back of his brown hair, a twinge of pink on his cheeks underneath his freckles. “I mean your hardwork will pay off, I’m sure!”

“Thank you, Yamaguchi-san,” you smile and pat him on the back. “I have the best partner after all.”

The contact must fluster him because he stutters something about grabbing drinks for the both of you before darting off toward the bar. You shake your head, glancing around the room to see who has already arrived. You recognize some of them from interviews you helped with over the season, and luckily that sets your heart at ease. Nothing to be worried about, you tell yourself just as Yamaguchi comes back with two drinks, telling you it’s time to get ready after you finish them.

The first few interviews go well, even with butterflies flying around in your stomach. Most of the players like Ojiro Aran and Komori Motoya are easy to interview thanks to their easygoing smiles and banter; others like Suna Rintarou and Ushijima Wakatoshi are a bit harder thanks to their straight-forward natures and cut and dry responses. Eventually the only team left is the winner of the V. League that year: the MSBY Black Jackals.

You’ve only interviewed their captain Meian Shuugo before, and he greets you with a warm smile like you’re old friends. His teammates shuffle in behind him—Hinata Shouyou first, then Bokuto Koutarou, Miya Atsumu, and—

“Is Sakusa-san coming?” You ask as you look around for him.

“Oh, he’s in the bathroom as usual, washin’ his hands probably,” Miya Atsumu jokes as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Though if he knew what a pretty little thing our interviewer is, he mighta made it on time.”

You laugh politely at his flirtation though his words do nothing to you. You’re used to Alphas like him, dripping scent all over the place, cocky smiles trying to entice a Beta or an Omega for the night. Meian shakes his head, elbowing Atsumu in the side and telling him to knock it off so the interview can begin.

This team is the easiest you’ve had yet. Hinata and Bokuto answer any question you have with excited smiles and cheers; Meian is as professional as ever, and Atsumu actually takes the interview seriously, especially when the topic comes to the mistake that almost cost them the finals. You’re too focused on Atsumu’s answer to see the fifth member slide into view, but you certainly hear him once Atsumu is finished talking.

“Apologies for being late.”

As soon as your eyes flit over to the man, your entire body throbs.

Sakusa Kiyoomi.

This is the first time you’ve ever seen him in person. He stands tall next to Hinata, black mask covering up the bottom half of his face. There’s not a curl out of place, his hair parted to show the two beauty marks above his eyebrow. His piercing stare regards you almost coldly, and your breath catches in your throat, all words dying on your tongue. There’s a tingle in your spine, a warmth that crawls up your back and spreads to the ends of your fingertips, making you clutch the paper tighter in your hands.

“That’s alright,” you return, but it’s airy, wispy, your breath stuck in your lungs and refusing to come out correctly.

There’s a spike of heat directly in your throbbing cunt and you immediately know.

This can’t be happening.

Galas and award ceremonies are always the worst. There’s no need for this many people to loiter around, just to congratulate them on another finished season with fake niceties and the usual “I’ll get you next year!" that's not really meant. If he wasn’t contractually obligated to go, Sakusa would be comfortably at home, already watching highlights to prepare for next year.

Instead he’s stuck in his stuffy suit, answering question after question of the same shit: What will you do during the off season? Do you think you’ll win next year? Any special someone you’ll celebrate with? After the second-to-last interviewer’s sweaty and clammy handshake made him nearly vomit, he’d excused himself to the bathroom to wash his hands (then wash them again), not caring if he was late for the last interview.

When he finally walks back into the ballroom, he sees that the rest of the team is already in the midst of the interview so he slides into line as quietly as he can, muttering an apology for the lateness.

As soon as you lock eyes with him, he can smell you. Arousal drips off you in waves, assaulting his nose and making him clench his jaw. His stomach churns with heat, flaring out to every part of his body and making his fingers flex. There’s a shiver down his spine the longer he stares at you; your arousal is like a blanket that wraps around him and nearly suffocates him.

Omega. Shouldn’t you know better than to come to a room full of Alphas without taking your medicine, when you’re this close to a heat? It makes his eyes narrow, checking on the rest of his team from the corner of his eye. Bokuto and Hinata are as clueless as ever, staring at you with dopey smiles, none-the-wiser. Meian and Miya are a different story; their eyes glint as you shift on your feet, and Sakusa can see the flex of your thighs from under the fabric of your dress.

“Continue,” he orders as he stares down at you. The faster this interview is over for the both of you, the better.

“R-right,” you stutter, lifting your paper again. He can see the way your fingers tremble as you read off the next question, your voice shaking as you shift on your feet again.

He can practically hear Miya salivating from two spots down and it makes his fists clench, the growing scent of your arousal nearly drowning him. Why haven’t you left yet? Why haven’t you finished the interview early and gone back where you’d be safe from the men staring at you strangely? You’re starting a heat; that much is obvious. Are you an idiot or do you just not realize? Judging from the sweat beading on your forehead and the way your breath comes out in ragged pants, you have to know. So why are you still here?

“Omi-san.” Hinata’s voice sounds like it’s far away, his ears thundering with his heartbeat and the itch at the base of his skull.

“What?”

“She asked you a question.”

When he locks eyes with you, you give the smallest gasp, shifting on your feet enough that the photographer next to you glances at you strangely.

“Repeat it,” he orders. His voice is gruff, angry, deep enough that he hears Bokuto mutter a, what’s gotten into Omi-omi?

“I, um. I asked if you have any advice for new players on what they should focus on from a young age?”

He wants to answer but his throat is dry, his own breath coming out in short puffs that make the inside of his mask warm and dewy. The longer he stares at you, the more the churning in his stomach gets worse, and the more he has to force his arms to keep still so he doesn’t grab you in front of all of these people. A glance to his right shows him Miya and Meian aren’t nearly this affected; they’re keeping calm so why can’t he?

“No.”

“Sakusa, don’t be so rude,” Meian smiles calmly and answers in his stead. Something about how practicing every day will help, but he doesn’t care. Sakusa can tell you’re barely paying attention to Meian anyway, your eyes glazed over as you clutch the paper so hard in your hand that it crinkles and nearly rips.

“Omi-san, is everything okay? Your fists are white.”

Hinata’s voice makes him jolt and he looks down at his hands by his sides. He’s been clenching them so hard that his knuckles are discolored, and the inside of his palms have half-moon shaped crescents from his short nails.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, but he isn’t sure it’s the truth.

Because as soon as your photographer puts his hands on your shoulder and whispers something in your ear, Sakusa takes a step forward to rip the man’s hand away from you. He has to pull himself back before he can, legs trembling with the effort to curb his need to bring you to him and make sure no one else touches you.

Fuck, this is more than a heat, isn’t it?

Sakusa Kiyoomi is a smart man. He knows more about Betas and Omegas than his counterparts, having actually paid attention during his school years compared to others like Miya. He knows what this means; what this entails.

That’s why, even though he’s in the middle of an interview, even though each step spikes pain in his stomach, he turns and walks away.

The water feels cool against your skin as you splash your face, taking a deep breath as you will yourself to calm down. The emergency suppressant works as quickly as the doctor said it would, but your body is still flushed with a heat that you weren’t expecting. It’s nowhere near time for a heat, not after taking your suppressant daily, so you don’t know why this is happening to you now. It felt like you were drowning, consumed by a fire that raged throughout your entire body and left only one thought: want him, want him, want him.

You’ve been through heat before, huddled up in your little apartment for a few days, making friends with your fingers or your vibrator until it passed and you were able to work again. This felt nothing like that; it was hard to breathe, hard to keep standing, hard to listen to Meian answer your questions before Sakusa stalked off and your trembling lessened.

At least the emergency suppressant helped.

You feel like yourself again as you fix your face in the mirror, able to breathe for the first time that hour. You make sure there’s no traces of sweat left anywhere on you before you take a deep breath and make it back to the ballroom. The award ceremony is halfway over by the time you slip back into your seat, and you listen to the host drone on and on about winners in between highlight reels showing this year's triumphs and failures.

When everything is finished, the true party begins with a bang—literally. Confetti shoots out from the ceiling once the Black Jackals take the stage, and you pointedly avoid looking at Sakusa Kiyoomi just in case. There’s a lingering itching in the back of your brain, a small little voice that tells you your reaction earlier wasn’t just a coincidence, but you force it down with the champagne you take a sip of.

“Good work today,” Yamaguchi says once people stand and begin to mingle, and you join them with a smile.

“You too.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got nervous.” The lie is easy, made easier because you avoid his eyes to glance around the room. “Are you going to stay?”

“For a little bit. There’s, um, someone I want to talk to.”

You follow his gaze to a bright spot of orange near the stage, and you have to suppress your smile when you realize that the ‘someone’ is the Black Jackals’ MVP of the year.

“Sure. I’ll see you later then. Good luck.”

Yamaguchi speeds off with cheeks redder than the sun and you laugh, hiding your lips behind your hand as you watch him nearly trip over himself to greet Hinata. Your attention is drawn away by a tap on your shoulder, and Meian stands to your left with a drink in each of his hands.

“You certainly look better,” he compliments as he hands you a flute of champagne, and you keep the smile on your face even though you want to sigh.

“Feeling better,” you answer then glance around him. “Where’s your fiance?”

“She’s talking with one of her friends. I thought I’d check up on you before dragging her home.”

It’s no secret that Meian is one of the lucky Alphas, able to find his mate out of all the people in the world. It’s something you daydreamed about as a younger child, though you squashed it down once you became of age, focusing on making it big as an Omega in an Alpha-dominated world. Still… that little voice in the back of your head is back as you stare at the attractive man before you. Talking with him both tonight and during prior interviews had been fine; he hadn’t triggered anything, hadn’t so much as made your heart flutter because you knew he was taken. Then why…?

“I’m alright, don’t worry,” you try to placate the captain, looking toward the stage where the rest of the team used to be. Hinata and Yamaguchi talk excitedly near the stairs; Bokuto is speaking with a pretty black-haired man in glasses; Atsumu is standing next to Sakusa near the bar and—

There’s a flash of heat in your body when you realize Sakusa is staring right at you, eyes narrowed so dangerously that his gaze feels like knives. Atsumu is saying something to his right, the blonde’s eyes flicking over to Meian and back without even regarding you. But Sakusa hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, his arms crossed over his chest, suit jacket pressed up against his arms and showing his muscles. His scent, wafting from all the way over at the bar, ripples off of him like—

Another flash of heat; another breath pulled from your chest. It nearly makes you drop your champagne glass and you have to cling to the empty table next to you to steady yourself on your feet. This one is stronger, hotter, flooding your body with a heat that makes you whimper. Meian is saying something to your left but you can’t hear him, blood rushing to your ears as your core throbs, hot and needy. You can feel how wet you are, slick pooling in your cunt as Sakusa’s strong scent of dewy rain hits you like a freight train. There’s a warm hand on your back, Meian in your peripheral vision, and you set the champagne flute down on the table to keep it from falling out of your trembling hands.

“I-I’m fine,” you stutter as you try to catch your breath. “I just need to get to the bathroom, I—”

“Captain.”

“Sakusa.”

Sakusa’s deep voice makes you shiver, and you don’t dare look up at him out of fear you won’t be able to hold yourself back. Meian’s hand is immediately off of your back, replaced with a rough hand around your upper arm. “I’ll take care of her.”

“No, I—”

You need to go. You need to get away from these Alphas, get back in the car, and get home to make it pass on your own, just like every other time.

Sakusa’s voice is nearly a growl as he regards you. “Be quiet and follow me.”

You don’t have any other choice. You’re dragged out of the ballroom, nearly tripping over your feet as he leads you toward the elevators. Your body is so hot, nearly scorching where his hands hold onto your arm, and your voice is a whine when you ask him to slow down.

“Please, I just need—I need to—”

Sakusa doesn’t listen to you at all. He punches the button and the elevator doors swing open, and your back is against the elevator wall before you can even ask where he’s taking you.

“S-Sakusa-san—”

“I said be quiet,” he warns you before ripping his mask off and pressing his mouth to yours.

You’re so responsive, kissing him back immediately, your fingers digging into his suit jacket. It’s like your mouth was made to be on his, your body pressed up against his as he worms his tongue into your mouth. He doesn’t even care that your fingers find his curls, tugging on his hair as your tongue moves against his desperately, your hips already grinding against his for some relief.

Everything is so hot, and he nearly rips off the button of his suit jacket with how hard he fumbles with it. It falls to the floor by his feet, and he forgets all about it once your fingers grope along his dress shirt, trying to pop open the buttons before the elevator reaches his floor. You whimper when his hard length presses against your thigh, shifting your legs open so he can press in between them and grind his cock on your covered pussy.

“You should have taken your medicine,” he berates you when he pulls back the slightest bit to take a breath.

“I did, I did, it’s just—you—”

Sakusa swallows the rest of your words with another kiss, tongue still flicking over everything it can reach. He can’t breathe, your arousal choking him so badly that his entire body pulses, flooding with the need to fill you up over and over. He needs to be inside you now, making you cry out, feeling the slick run down your thighs as he squeezes and gropes at them.

The elevator stops and dings when it reaches his floor, and he wastes no time wrapping your legs around his waist, hoisting you up. You break the kiss only to gasp, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you let him lead you. His suit jacket stays in the elevator as the doors close, forgotten as he gropes your ass and thighs, doing his best not to make you bump into anything as he hurries to his hotel room.

He makes it to his door and presses you against it, lips incessantly on yours once more as he jerks your dress up. There’s a ripping sound that you both ignore, too focused on moving your tongues together, the sloppy sounds louder than the thundering of his heart in his ears. Sakusa tugs a little harder on your dress, pushing the fabric up to your waist so he can feel along your thighs with his lithe fingers.

“Need you,” you pant against his cheek when you pull away to breathe, groaning when his fingers brush against your covered cunt. You’re wet, slick already staining your panties and making him curse into your neck. His lips and teeth find everywhere they can, sucking and nipping every inch of your flesh to mark you as his. Your whimpers are like music to his ears, his cock pulsing in his pants when he pulls aside your panties and feels your slick covering your folds.

“Left pocket.”

His gruff command makes you nod, and your fingers grope along his thighs and ass to find his pocket as he trails his lips down your shoulder. You start to slip down and he hoists you back up, pressing you even harder against the door, your breasts pressed against his chest. You shift against his fingers, moaning as he continues to run them up and down your wet folds as you work. His mouth finds yours again, distracting you for a second with his teeth nipping at your lower lip, but he growls hurry up against your skin and you move again.

The moment you pull the card from his pocket, he takes it from you, fumbling to let you down and get the door open. The lock clicks open and he pushes you inside, trapping you against the wall before the door even closes behind him.

“Sakusa-san—”

“Dress off.”

You take a split second to breathe, but then your dress is on the floor by your feet and he’s kneeling on top of it, hands tight around your thighs. He takes a deep breath, breathing in the scent of your arousal until goosebumps form on his arms. His thumbs dip into the slick that’s already gathered around the edge of your panties, and with barely a flick of his wrist, they’re pooled at your ankles by the backs of your heels.

Sakusa wastes no time diving into your wet cunt. If the stifling scent of your arousal wasn’t already killing him, the sweet taste of your slick would be doing the trick. You keen when his tongue pushes deep inside, flicking all over your walls as his fingers grope at your shaking thighs. With unsteady hands, he helps you out of one of your heels so he can throw your leg over his shoulder and press even deeper. His hands grope your ass as he laps you up, your moans going straight to his already hard cock.

Your hips jerk violently when he finds your clit and he has to hold you steady with sharp nails into your flesh. Once he starts to suck your nub, you grind your hips into his face, slick dripping down your folds and rubbing against his chin. You sound so good chanting his name, back arching off of the wall as you shudder. It makes him work faster, tongue circling your clit as one of his fingers probes your entrance.

You take him easily, long fingers sucked in by your tight heat. His thrusts are quick and dirty, a second finger pushed in after only a few strokes. He scissors them as he fucks you, stretching you wide so you’re more than ready to take his cock in a few minutes. Your walls clamp down on him, pulsing faster the more he works your clit, and slick drips down his hand as you gush for him. His name is the only thing on your lips between heavy breaths, and there’s a loud bang when you throw your head back against the wall, fingers digging into his hair again.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you chant, thigh trembling on his shoulder. And then, the most beautiful sound falls from your lips: “Fuck, Omi!”

Your walls clamp down on him so tightly that he can barely move his fingers to help you cum, hips grinding against his mouth as he sucks on your swollen clit. You taste so good, so sweet, and he rips his fingers from you so you can gush into his mouth instead, so he can lap up your slick feverishly. His wet hand clings to your ass, pulling you impossibly close as you continue to orgasm, your entire body shaking as you whimper his name again and again. You tug at his hair, whining that it’s too much, but he shakes you off with a warning growl deep into your cunt. He isn’t finished—not until he’s lapped up every single drop you have to give him.

When he’s satisfied, he pulls back, licking his lips to revel in your remaining taste. You tug him close as soon he stands, fingernails digging into his covered shoulders as you press your lips to his. One orgasm and you’re still just as fucking needy, sweaty body trembling as he holds you close.

“Omi,” you whine as your fingers work to unbutton his dress shirt. Of all the people to call him that, you’re the only one he’ll allow without complaint, the only one that makes him shiver as you whimper it. As soon as the last button is undone, he throws his shirt off, pulling away from you just enough to take his undershirt off too. You unclasp your bra and throw it aside, standing before him naked and trembling, lips parted as you gasp for breath.

A swift push and you’re on your back on the bed, and he’s right there on top of you, lips covering yours. You part your legs for him to slip inside, moaning when his teeth tug at your bottom lip, your fingernails raking down his back. It makes him shiver, mouth even more insistent against yours as rocks his bulge against your slick pussy.

“I need you,” you breathlessly beg him, digging your nails into his sides to pull him flush against you, bare chest to bare chest.

It takes every bit of willpower not to tear off his suit pants right then and there. His mind goes red as he hurries with his belt and button, and he hears something rip as he tears off his pants to settle between your legs. His cock throbs, angry and needy as strong hands keep your legs parted. Your thighs squeeze his sides as he sits on his haunches, running his cock over your wet folds to gather your slick on his flesh.

“Omi, please.”

“Go on, tell me what you need,” he growls. Growls. He’s never done that before, never needed to fill someone up so badly, to push into their messy cunt and make them cry out his name.

“Fuck me.” Your eyes are shining with resolve, practically begging him to enter you and make you his. “Fill me up, I want you so badly. Please, please, I need it—”

A sound that sounds like a sob tears out of your mouth the second he pushes into your cunt, and his mind goes blank the moment he fills you up to the hilt, all except for one thought: mine. One hand grabs onto your hips, the other onto your breast, forcing you to match his quick thrusts once he starts moving. Your fingers rake down his arms as he squeezes and kneads your breast, tugging at your nipple as he moves. His body trembles as he slams into you over and over, hips snapping and making you cry out as you cling to him. Deeper, deeper; he needs to get deeper, needs to fuck you until you’re dripping with his seed, until you’re swollen with his pups, until his sharp teeth are buried in your neck and claiming you as his.

Your loud moan echoes in his mind, ringing his head and taking over all of his senses. He leans forward to nip around your shoulder, and you hook your ankles around his back, pushing him even faster with firm heels into his back. Your fingers dig into his hair, pulling him back up for a messy kiss, saliva dripping down your lips as you move your tongues quickly. Sakusa groans when you squeeze around him, and you tug on his curls as you move your hips to match his quick thrusts, teeth scraping along his bottom lip.

“Shit,” he groans before he flips you, hands on your hips to steady you on top of him.

He shifts his legs, digging his heels into the bed so he can fuck up into you. You cry out, steady your hands on his chest as you bounce on his cock, barely needing him to help you with how fast you’re going. Your eyes shine as you watch him with lidded eyes, bottom lip pulled between your teeth. You look so fucking pretty sitting on his cock, tits bouncing as you move, nails making red lines down his chest as you whimper his name. He can feel your slick dripping down, coating your thighs as the smack smack smack of your hips rings in the room.

When his thumb finds your clit, you moan, head falling back and pussy squeezing him like a vice.

“Good, so good,” you gasp, body shuddering as your second orgasm approaches. Your words are mixed in with whimpers and whines when he hits deep within you and then, crystal clear: “Omi, my Alpha, I—”

Fuck fuck fuck.

The growl that’s ripped from his throat can’t even be masked by your loud cry as your orgasm crests. He watches you shake and shudder for him, hips stuttering as your slick runs all down his pulsing length. Sakusa helps you through it, moving your hips so he can continue to slam into you to prolong your pleasure. When you finally stop moving, angry pants for air the only sounds you make, he pushes you down again, settling you on your hands and knees.

“Alpha—”

You gasp again when he enters you, and he doesn’t give you any time to breathe before he’s fucking you hard, hand on your back pushing your chest into the bed. Drool drips out of your open mouth like the slick that dribbles out of your cunt, the loud squelching sounds echoing the squeaking of the bed.

“Fuck, take it,” he commands lowly, hands groping at your jiggling tits so he can thrusts into you even harder. He can feel his knot growing, the tingling in his spine, the pressing need to give you every single bit of him until he’s empty. He’s got to have you in every way, got to make you his, his, his—

As soon as he releases and his knot is pushed inside of you he leans forward, his teeth digging down into the side of your neck hard enough to make you scream. He tastes the iron in your blood, smells your sweet scent before heat rushes through his veins, pleasure making his mind go blank. He doesn’t let go of your neck, sweaty chest pressed to your equally sweaty back, teeth still buried deep within your skin as he keeps his hips flush against yours. It’s like a slow trickle of consciousness, a small creek that gives way to a river that explodes into an ocean of realization.

He just claimed you.

“Omi,” you whisper when he finally lets go.

Sitting dark red above your scent glands are a perfect imprint of his teeth, ones that will scar over and bond you as his for the rest of your life.

He stares down at you, watching the same realization settle into your eyes as you turn your head to look at him.

“Did you…?”

“Yes.”

“You’re… you’re my mate?”

It isn’t so much a question as it’s a confirmation. By the way you’re staring at him, he knows you figured it out, just like he did when your heat triggered in front of him, when he couldn’t stand to see Meian or any other alpha like Miya touch you.

“Yes.” He runs his thumb over the mark on your neck as he curls an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. He settles you both on your sides, a nervous hand tapping against your stomach. Now that his mind is clear, a heavy weight settles on his chest and makes him curse. “I should have used protection.”

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him with a light smile as you shift back further into his embrace, tucking your head under his chin. With your hand, you run it up and down his sweaty arms, the gentleness in your touch making him shiver. “Don’t worry, my Alpha.”

His chest rumbles with his purr, acting on instinct as he leans down to nuzzle his nose into the mark he made, tongue lapping at the indents. You’re so warm, pressed up against him like you’ve always belonged there, like you’re perfectly at home in between his arms. Showering is the last thing on his mind when you hold his arms closer, melting against his chest so you can feel the vibrating in his chest for yourself.

“Mine,” he whispers into the top of your head, and for the first time in his life, his heart skips a beat when he hears you giggle and whispers, “Yours.”

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