Page 13 of Hell’s Secret Omega (The Court of the Hollow King #2)

CYRUS

Good vergis .

Cyrus is floating away.

He’s full. He’s surrounded. It’s like nothing he could have imagined. He is…complete. Mezor’s red eyes bore into his soul as he feeds Cyrus his own come, and with every drop he murmurs words Cyrus has never heard before.

Sweet.

Perfect.

Beautiful.

Cyrus licks his fingers clean in a post-orgasmic haze, basking in the glow of satisfaction in Mezor’s eyes. He should be terrified by how easily he took it into his hole, but his body moved instinctually. His vergis purrs. We’ve pleased him . But the thick cock lodged inside him is a reminder that he hasn’t pleased Mezor quite enough—yet. He starts to move again, rocking back and forth on Mezor’s cock just to feel it stir inside him. It jerks, pulling against his sensitive rim. Mezor’s eyes flare bright.

“You need it again?” he murmurs.

“You haven’t come,” Cyrus growls. He may be inexperienced, but he understands what’s supposed to happen here. His primus should fill him up with seed.

He should mount us and take us and breed us properly, his vergis whimpers. But the need isn’t mindless yet, and Cyrus pushes it aside. He’s scared to give in to the voice—scared that he’ll like that too much.

Instead he starts to move again, rising on Mezor’s throbbing shaft until he’s nearly empty, sliding back down to fill up with a groan of satisfaction. He rides Mezor’s cock slowly at first, then with rising urgency as pressure builds deep inside him. His heat lurks, demanding he satisfy himself, but he needs something else first.

He needs to see the same desire reflected on Mezor’s face. He needs to know Mezor is affected.

Mezor’s eyes flicker with hunger, but his expression is calm. Cyrus might be on top but the Hunter is in control. It drives him to work harder, slamming his hips down in an effort to make something change in that heavy gaze. He can’t help his choked gasps at the unfamiliar feelings that stir inside him, making it hard to keep his goal within grasp.

“That’s good,” Mezor rumbles. “Take it deeper.”

Cyrus bares his teeth. I can take all of it. He rides Mezor’s cock deeper and deeper until a bulge of pressure pulses against his hole. He lets his weight bear him down until a delicious stretch makes his breath catch and his heart thunder. Mezor’s eyes open fractionally wider.

“Yes,” Cyrus hisses.

“Keep going.” Mezor’s grip tightens on his hip. “All the way. You’re so good.”

Something lights up.

I want to make him lose control .

Cyrus bears down harder. The bulge slips inside him for the second time. Mezor growls like a beast and pulls him flush to his chest suddenly, clutching him so tight Cyrus can’t move a muscle. His powerful hips work the wide part of his cock in and out, stretching Cyrus again and again. Heat explodes behind Cyrus’s ribs. He clutches at the rough cloth of Mezor’s shirt. Silver light swirls in front of his eyes as his hole is pummelled. A deep rumble fills his ears. His world is shaking, his body spilling over. Yes. Yes. Yes. Let go.

Claws dig into his ass. His legs give out and he can only cling as he’s pinned on Mezor’s cock. Mezor roars, and the massive intrusion inside Cyrus seems to grow even bigger. Wetness erupts suddenly, making him slippery and impossibly hotter. He’s helpless to pull free, trapped by Mezor’s demanding muscle and razor-sharp claws while his cock fills Cyrus with potent seed. The knowledge sends him tumbling over the edge again.

When he comes back to himself, he slumps into Mezor’s chest with a shudder. He’s so perfectly full. He wants more.

“I’m going to pull out now,” Mezor rumbles after a while.

“Alright.” He should pull away. Maybe Mezor only meant to help him once, and now it’s over. He pretends the thought doesn’t fill him with despair.

“I’m telling you because it will be hard.” Mezor tips his chin up, forcing Cyrus to look at him.

He likes doing that. Cyrus tries to avoid his eyes, suddenly contrary, but Mezor’s gaze is addictive.

“Because of your knot?” He struggles to stay coherent. The heat wave has subsided but he’s still awash with pheromones.

Mezor chuckles. “No, bright flame. That wasn’t my full knot. I wouldn’t do that without your knowledge. Because it’s your first time, and you’re in heat. Losing my cock will be distressing for you.”

Cyrus lies his head back down on Mezor’s chest. It’s broad and warm, and the slow, thundering heartbeat soothes his nerves.

“I’ll be fine.”

He’s not fine. Mezor’s cock leaves him slowly, and every inch feels like a rejection. Cyrus pulls the crumbling remnants of his walls tight and bites his tongue. The ache spears him. Is this what it’s supposed to be like?

“Soon you’ll need me inside you all the time.” Mezor’s grip on him tightens momentarily before he lifts Cyrus into his arms.

Cyrus yelps. “What…?”

“I’m taking you somewhere safer. This room is too exposed.”

“I picked this room because you didn’t like the feast hall,” he mumbles, gripping Mezor’s shirt.

“I know. You do as I ask like a good vergis.”

Emotion makes his breath catch—humiliation, or maybe longing. Mezor douses the torch, plunging them into darkness. Cyrus can only hang on tightly as Mezor ducks through the doorway, shutting the door behind them.

Mezor’s chest is solid under his cheek. Being in his arms is like nothing he’s felt before—nothing he’s ever dreamed of wanting. During his heat he longs to be fucked. But he never dreams of being held. Twin desires battle—he never wants Mezor to put him down, but he needs to sit on that thick primus cock again. Heat is confusing.

His reprieve is brief. It’s not until his nose is pressed to Mezor’s firm muscle and he’s inhaling the scent beneath his shirt like it’s the air itself that he realizes a fresh heat wave is crashing over him. Pain jabs his abdomen and he groans. His hole clenches on nothing. It’s so intense he starts to shake, gasping into Mezor’s chest.

A deep rumble reverberates through the Hunter. His scent rises, too, and Cyrus drinks in more and more of it until his head spins.

“Soon,” Mezor growls. “I smell your need. We’ll be there soon.”

“Need it now ,” Cyrus gasps, encircling his cock with one shaking hand. His own touch is a pale shadow of a primus’s hand. He whines, his throat tightening with frustration.

“You’re being so patient, bright flame.” Mezor’s thumb strokes his shoulder.

Slick leaks out of his hole, making a mess he can smell. Mezor’s touch is good but not enough.

Mezor stops, shouldering open a broad, wooden door. He sets Cyrus on his feet and Cyrus fights his shaky legs to stay upright. No longer in Mezor’s arms, he suddenly feels exposed.

Mezor lights the torches, and Cyrus rips his gaze from his broad back and forces himself to take in their surroundings. The room is an open format hall with a raised plinth in the middle. One end has crumbled into rubble, which explains its disuse. White marble statues stand in nooks in the wall, all looking down on the plinth—angels in poses of serenity, their wings folded sedately. One holds a book, another a set of scales, another a bare branch. On either side of the plinth is a gallery of stone seating.

“Where is this?”

A smirk overtakes Mezor’s lips. “It’s a viewing room for mating.”

“A…viewing room?” Cyrus’s knees falter. He grips the door frame. A sudden image of demons seated in the gallery while Mezor takes him flashes before his eyes. He’s not sure if it’s horrifying or arousing.

“Angels are depraved bastards. Before the cataclysm, primus and vergis were so rare for their kind that they built a whole room to watch them fuck and celebrate their mating.” Mezor returns to his side. “Can you walk?”

His pride rears. “Of course!”

Proving it is a different matter. But the Hunter doesn’t intervene as he wobbles his way across the room. Finally he makes it to the plinth. He pauses. There’s no way he can get up there. His vergis whines, wanting Mezor’s cock in him, his arms around him, his soothing voice.

“Why did you bring me here?” he mumbles.

Mezor looms. He lifts Cyrus effortlessly onto the plinth, his grip just this side of rough—perfect. “I’d fuck you on the King’s throne if I could, in front of the whole Court. Show every miserable soul on this mountain just how precious a vergis is. But I would never put you in real danger. Instead, imagine these seats are full. See them watching and envying you while your heat burns everything away and you become your purest self.”

The room blurs around him. He should hate the idea, but instead it fills him with hunger.

“Yes,” he groans hoarsely, reaching for Mezor. “Fuck me in front of them.”

Mezor grins. He sheds his own clothing, all grace and power as he climbs onto the plinth. The glowing marks on his chest crawl all the way down to his belly to meet the thatch of dark hair framing the thing Cyrus wants the most right now—his huge cock. His tip points outward, dragged down by its own weight. Gleaming veins run up the length of the shaft. Most deadly of all is the bulge at the base where his full knot would form. Cyrus’s eyes lock on that thick protrusion and his mouth waters. That’s how he would mate me. With a knot.

Mezor’s massive horns block out the light as he looms over Cyrus. He strokes his cock, squeezing the bulb at its base. “This is just a proto-knot—not the real thing. I won’t knot you now.”

Cyrus swallows thickly. “I can handle a knot.”

Mezor points his cock downward and smears its glistening wetness over Cyrus’s stomach. “Once my knot enters you I’d go into a thrall. It’s too dangerous.”

A thrall means he’d be bound to Cyrus’s word—bound to do anything he desired. Dangerous or not, his vergis wants to sink his claws into Mezor and own his knot. He squirms.

“Tell me you understand.”

He bites the inside of his cheek. “I want your knot.”

“I know.” Mezor bares his teeth, fangs glistening. “Trust me, I know. But we can’t.”

Cyrus whines, hypnotized by the way Mezor’s cock pulses as it weeps precome. “Fuck me,” he begs, losing the thread of Mezor’s words. Why can’t they do everything together?

“I will. But first you have to tell me you understand.”

He nods eagerly. He’d say anything to get Mezor’s cock inside him right now. “I understand.”

Mezor snarls. He withdraws, and Cyrus whimpers. Except he’s pushing back Cyrus’s legs, exposing his dripping hole. And finally, finally , that thick, perfect cock enters him. Ecstasy blooms. He shouts. The fire explodes into an inferno and he convulses around that perfect fullness as all the air leaves his lungs. Mezor begins to fuck him, long, driving thrusts that make him claw and howl.

“Scream for me,” Mezor snarls, pumping into him mercilessly.

“Yes,” Cyrus wails, unable to form any other words. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Even that word leaves him, and there’s nothing left but wordless joy and unimaginable pleasure.