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“Something I’ve wanted to do since our first kiss.” Bishop nipped his left cheek, and Kensley gasped. “Want to taste you, sweetheart. That okay?”

The fact that Bishop was asking when he had no reason to—nothing prevented him from taking what he wanted—chased some of Kensley’s shame away.

Bishop wanted to do this dirty, unspoken thing, but he was still making sure Kensley wanted it, too.

And he did. Kensley wanted to reclaim all parts of his sexuality as an omega, and that included this thing that made omegas unique from other men.

“Yes, please,” Kensley gasped. He didn’t know what to expect, so he closed his eyes, all senses focusing in on his exposed butt and wet hole.

Bishop pulled his cheeks apart, exposing him in a way he’d only been exposed to a doctor once, the exam that verified he was omega.

But this wasn’t in a clinic for health reasons, this was so much more.

Warm breath blew across his hole, and Kensley squeaked, startled by the odd sensation.

Something pressed against his hole but it wasn’t as thick as Bishop’s dick, and it didn’t feel like a finger, so what—Bishop snuffled.

Holy damn, Bishop was smelling him! He was using his freaking nose.

Kensley released a guttural noise he didn’t recognize as coming from his own throat, undone by the sheer dirty eroticism of Bishop smelling his asshole.

His wet, waiting asshole that needed to be filled with a finger, a cock, or even a—“Fuck!”

The force of Bishop’s tongue driving into his hole shocked that single word from Kensley’s lips.

He jerked forward, away from the strange sensation, and then humped back, needing more, damn it!

That wicked tongue plunged and licked and sought in a way that Kensley could not describe or understand, only that he was being fucked in a way he’d never imagined.

Bishop was moaning, too, dropping appreciative noises as he drank from Kensley’s hole, lapping up his cream with each stab of his tongue.

Kensley’s straining cock needed attention, but he couldn’t move, sprawled on his chest over the hot tub cover.

His thighs trembled and his knees shook.

He wasn’t going to last long under this onslaught of pleasure and desire, and as much as he longed for the hard slam of Bishop’s cock in his hole, the crash of hips to ass, he could stay like this forever.

Floating in a blissful state of shock and sensation overload that was short-circuiting his higher thought functions.

He was need and ass and cock, and he had to come soon before he combusted.

“Please, fuck me, please,” Kensley babbled, commands running together in his head, word salad dropping from his lips.

He heard a lewd smacking sound, and then Kensley’s hole was empty. “Was gonna wait, sweetheart, but I can’t. Fuck, you taste better than the finest cognac. Sweeter than the best wine on earth.”

Kensley flailed with one hand, his objective to find Bishop’s cock and stick it in him, but he’d lost muscle control.

Bishop didn’t make him suffer long. A belt jangled, and then a familiar cock shoved into Kensley’s aching hole.

Kensley yelled something, he didn’t know or care, because yes!

This is what he needed, what his body craved from this man, who’d stolen his heart and now owned his body.

“Yessss,” Kensley slurred, then shocked himself by shoving back against Bishop. “More.”

Fingers dug into his hips. “You’ll take what I give you, omega.”

A new, strange fire lit inside Kensley, something close to anger but without the negative emotions. It gave him the strength to reach back and rake his nails down Bishop’s hip. “Fuck me! Take me!”

Bishop snarled, drew back until Kensley feared he’d pull out completely, and then slammed back inside.

Kensley hollered, feeling that in his throat, and he could barely hang on while Bishop set a frenzied pace.

He had no grip on the hot tub cover and slid forward until his pelvis slammed against the side of the hot tub on every sharp thrust of Bishop’s hips.

This primal act should have terrified him, but it only made Kensley feel free.

Free to accept this side of himself. The side that wanted to be used by this man, by Bishop Anders and no one else.

Something new and primitive bloomed deep inside of Kensley, bigger than any orgasm, stronger than any physical bond could ever be.

He didn’t understand it, and he didn’t care.

Kensley needed this man to fill him with his come, to mark him in this most primal way.

Didn’t matter they’d done this before, something was different.

They were different.

“Fuck, Kens,” Bishop gasped, hips snapping hard enough to bruise, and Kensley welcomed every brutal thrust. “It feels…feels…fuck.”

“Don’t stop!”

“Not gonna, but fuck.”

They both knew this wasn’t normal. This was beyond the other times they’d had sex, and Kensley didn’t care.

He moaned and humped and clawed at the plastic cover beneath him, unable to do much more than silently beg for his orgasm.

For this fantastic torture to finally reach its climax and give Kensley some relief.

He needed real pressure on his dick, more than the constant rubbing against the hot tub—and then it was enough.

Kensley shouted as he came, his entire body pulsing and clenching, turning upside down, inside out.

Reality fractured, and it took a long time to come back together into a picture that made sense.

He was still splayed over the cover, panting, Bishop’s hot, heaving body plastered on top of him.

A thick, pulsing cock still filled his passage, but Bishop was no longer thrusting.

He simply breathed against Kensley’s neck, fingers still digging into Kensley’s hips.

As awareness woke Kensley up a fraction, he felt something that must be a hallucination—the hot curl of Bishop’s semen traveling up Kensley’s passage, seeking a destination that was, in this moment, of no use since he was days past his last cycle.

But Kensley clung to the fantasy that Bishop’s seed made it to his womb, where an egg eagerly awaited fertilization. That those two entities met and created something unique that would eventually implant inside of Kensley’s body.

Their child.

Only a dream but a wonderful one. A dream he wanted to realize one day with this man.

Kensley didn’t know what to say or how to ask, so he stood there until Bishop’s cock began to soften inside him, answering the question of whether or not he’d come.

Bishop pulled back and slipped out, and Kensley didn’t have time to miss his warmth, because Kensley’s limp body was yanked up and around, and he was enveloped by the biggest, warmest hug of his entire life.

Kensley clutched at Bishop, shaking with need and shock and things he couldn’t name.

Pleasure was too small a word for what he felt in that moment. Joy? Contentment? Love? He didn’t know.

His strength gave out. Kensley was vaguely aware of being swept up into Bishop’s capable arms. Carried out of the hot sea air and into someplace cooler.

Something soft at his back. Bishop snuggling up close.

Kensley reached for words, for something to express how he felt, to show Bishop how much he adored this.

Maybe it was their long day of travel. Maybe it was endorphins from their mind-blowing sex. Kensley didn’t know why he fell asleep almost immediately, only that he did so while being held like he was the most precious jewel on earth.