Mischka cries out, fisting the sheets as another smack lands on his ass. The skin there is swollen and tender-pink, but Daime won't let up. The force of the hit jostles the prostate toy buzzing inside him, and the vessel collapses on his elbows, no longer able to hold himself up.

"Please," Mischka begs as drool runs unchecked from his mouth, eyes unfocused. "I need to come…!"

His legs tremble as he tries to hold out — if he comes before he's allowed, Daime said he wouldn't touch him for a week. And while Mischka has never come untouched before, he's not so sure he won't completely lose it at this rate.

"I don't care what you need," Daime replies, voice even. He brings his palm down again — smack! "I'm not done with you. Get off your fucking elbows."

Mischka sobs as he struggles to raise up on all fours. Another gush of slick runs down his thighs, leaking out around the base of the vibrator.

"See, that wasn't so hard," Daime reaches for Mischka's cock hanging heavily between his legs. His delicate fingers wrap around the shaft, thumb smearing in the pre-cum dribbling from his slit.

Mischka shudders and in the back of his mind, the static of the Omega's presence flares in gleeful amusement.

The Omega's heat was due that weekend — the Alpha had circled it with a fat, red marker on his calendar — but the omega was already feeling feverish and uneasy.

"Mik-ha-il…"

He sidled up to the dark-haired boy, burying his nose in the alpha's neck to inhale his heady lemongrass scent. It probably wasn't the best idea for him to be power-huffing pheromones right now, but Daime is a helluva drug.

"I need you…"

The Alpha looks at his life mate while finishing the flower arrangements that Francis forgot to make when he notices that Mischka's heat is too early from the due date.

"I can't wait."

Mischka exhales, trying to stop himself from grabbing the Alpha and pushing him against the wall of their apartment. By doing so, his hand suddenly moves on his own and drifts lower and lower.

When he reaches the front of Daime's track pants, he unabashedly palms the Alpha's dick through the fabric, squeezing firmly and feeling out the shape. Daime gasps and his eyes slide shut. He leans into Mischka's embrace.

"Stop!" he hisses, but it's not very convincing. His hand tangles in Mischka's blond hair, yanking him closer. "Baby, you told me that we need to do this first before your heat. Can you at least wait?"

The Omega grumbles under his breath and slowly nods. His eyes are half-lidded and has a sultry looks plastered on his face. To make matters worse, a Cheshire mouth materializes on the hand clutching Daime's crotch and whistles.

"Alpha~!"

Mortified, Daime pries Mischka off and jumps to put several feet between them. He doesn't speak to Mischka or even look in his direction for the remainder of their work, too busy trying to will away his lingering boner.

In his mind, he needs to end whatever that is needed for their mating ceremony.

Daime wanted his revenge. He jerks Mischka off in earnest, his other hand reaching between the Omega's legs to cup and roll his balls.

"Ah-h, ah-h—!"

He tries not to fuck into Daime's fist, but as he picks up the pace, Mischka feels the bowstring of his orgasm pull taught with pleasure.

"Ahh, ah M-ikha-Mikhail—I'm c-c—"

In a flash, Daime's hands are gone and Mischka keens in frustration, canting his hips into nothing as he falls back pathetically from the edge of his release.

It's enough to make him dizzy, and he's on the verge of losing consciousness.

How many times has it been? In the purgatory of his orgasm, Mischka lost track. For a brief, spiraling moment, he thinks Daime is going to deny him all night — he never said he wouldn't, and under his staid albeit melancholy exterior, the Alpha had a mean streak.

He breathes through his nose frantically.

"One more time. C'mon."

Daime knows just how far he can push the Omega, but Mischka is panicking.

"I c-can't! Ah-h—h-help me! M-Mikhail, help me!"

He anticipates Daime will spank him again for begging, but the stinging hit never lands. Instead the vibrator's intensity ratchets up without warning, and the intensified pulsing against his prostate, ecstasy seeping into his every nerve, finally breaks him.

A hoarse moan tears from Mischka's throat and his arms give out.

His brain is wiped of every thought he ever possessed, leaving him a blank slate for Daime to rewrite, long past coherency.

Mischka sobs uncontrollably, babbling nonsense, and when the Alpha finally yanks him upright, his body doesn't register the sudden change in equilibrium and he sways.

Daime presses his chest to the Omega's back and holds him flush, working his fist sloppily over Mischka's weeping dick.

"Come on, baby. Let go—come for me."

His muscles seize and release all at once like he's being electrocuted. A strangled cry escapes him as he comes hard, shooting white hot ropes against his chest, spattering on the sheets. He's floating, out of his own body, until all of sudden he's not and he can't feel his bones.

He collapses backwards, dead weight into the Alpha and they both tumble. The dark-haired boy scrambles for the vibrator's remote control before it's lost in the folds of the bedding and he quickly turns the toy off.

The loss of stimulation shocks him. Mischka's chest heaves, desperate to suck air into his lungs. Daime leans the Omega's head against his shoulder, peering into his face with a startled expression. Mischka groans, listless.

Lithe hands rub up and down his body, stroking him gently, coaxing him back to earth. The smell of lemongrass floods his lungs, casting comfort over him like a warm blanket.

"Sleep tight, baby. You will need all of your energy tomorrow."

Mischka sighs in relief as he puts his face under Daime's neck and cuddles with his Alpha. Sighing in relief and in contentment that finally, they are both happy.