I turned my head toward him, who still had his face buried in the nape of my neck. When he lifted his face to look at me, his eyes were, as expected, just as completely gone as last time.
One might have found his unfocused eyes, which seemed to be looking at me but not seeing me, frightening, but to me, they were just… sexy. The thought that all this wildness and loss of reason was directed at me stimulated a greed so intense I wanted to clutch it in my hands.
The moment I kissed his languidly drooping eyelids, he instantly came alive, pouncing on me roughly and snatching my lips. At the same time, he fell onto the sheets while holding me and climbed on top of my stomach.
Lips, tongue, nape, ears, chest, armpits and pubic hair, the back of the testicles and the anus. A thorough caress followed, searching every inch. He inhaled my scent deeply wherever his lips and nose touched, showing a greed for me that surpassed the greed I had for him.
“Whatever happens… just come to me like you did today. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
Even if it was just lip service, meaningless words poured out in the heat of the bed like the whispers of “I love you” from one-night stands who’d just met, it was the best possible nourishment for my hungry heart.
I closed my eyes, clutching his head as he pushed up my T-shirt and kissed my red, sensitively swollen nipples over and over.
Unlike last time, when he had panicked after coming with a knot, stopping and busying himself with frantically scraping his semen out of me, this time he changed positions and came inside me once more.
My insides, slickly coated with his semen three times over, and indeed my entire body, must have been exuding his scent instead of my own. I felt like something had definitely changed.
○
Next to the single-person sofa, the table that had held a vase with a simple flower arrangement and a couple of books was a small, wooden refrigerator. He took out a bottle of water from it, then gathered my shoulders and helped me up as I lay limp, without even the energy to cover my genitals.
“Have some water.”
My lips and even the inside of my mouth were parched, but I didn’t have the strength to lift a small water bottle. I was completely drained and ragged, as if I’d been tied to a tireless, muscular horse and dragged around for ages.
My left shoulder was touching his right chest. He had me sit beside him, his arm around my shoulders and his knees bent to support my back. I did place a hand on the mattress to try and support myself, but I couldn’t even sit up without leaning on him for more than half my weight.
Seeing my arm and hand tremble as I tried to hold the water bottle, he took a mouthful of water for me instead. Then, he pressed his lips to mine and let the water trickle in.
At first, I flinched, my body tensing in surprise. The cold sensation against my hot body felt foreign, and I hadn’t expected him to go that far.
We had been entangled in all sorts of shameless positions just a moment ago, but a relationship that was uninhibitedly promiscuous during sex wasn’t necessarily one that had to take responsibility for delicate kindness after sex.
My muscles wouldn’t obey, and about half the water he trickled in failed to be swallowed, flowing down the corners of my mouth, my neck, and onto my chest and lower belly hidden by the T-shirt. He patiently helped me drink enough water over several attempts.
Only after confirming that some life had returned to my eyes did he quench his own thirst with the remaining water. His cool, large hand that had been holding the bottle swept back my hair, which was plastered to my forehead with sweat.
I was completely exhausted, but he was not. The muscles all over his body were still taut, poised to sprint at any moment, and the gaze he directed down at me still shimmered with heat.
That heat traced a certain path. The path the water had trickled down.
Holding me in his arms, he slid his lips and tongue along the trail of water he had poured for me. Every time his lips brushed against my skin, I twitched as if having a seizure. The feeling of him sucking my nipple through the wet T-shirt was cold and unfamiliar, making my toes curl.
Even after coming three times, his cock, pressing against my side, was still hard. In fact, his erection was still as fresh as if he’d been aroused after abstaining for over a week.
But even with his erection, he calmly accepted that sex was over. He seemed accustomed to the situation of not being able to have sex until he was satisfied.
To satisfy a Golden Alpha’s tireless sex drive, it might be impossible for anyone but a Golden Omega. I didn’t know for sure, though.
Having tasted my fill of the juices from the fruit of pleasure, I wanted to satisfy him too, but I no longer had even a shred of energy left to induce sexual arousal. It felt like he had devoured it all.
Putting more strength into my spine, I sat up from his embrace. I pulled at the neckline of my T-shirt, which had slipped to completely expose one shoulder, and subtly covered my genitals, which were a mess of tangled, dried semen.
“I think… I’ll have to throw this T-shirt away.”
My voice, unexpectedly hoarse, was embarrassing.
“Hmm, you’re right.”
He agreed, looking down at the chest of the shirt. The thin cotton T-shirt’s neckline was so stretched out that it was impossible to tell its original shape, and even after I adjusted it, it still revealed my collarbones and even my upper chest.
He caressed my collarbone, then playfully thrust his hand inside the neckline, rummaging around as if searching for something. His hand moving inside my clothes from the neck down, rather than from the bottom up, felt strangely lewd, and after watching his palm spread wide to knead my chest muscle a couple of times, I averted my eyes.
“It’s easy to touch, and it’s sexy. Let’s keep it as a souvenir.”
He was even skilled and natural at leading the mood after sex with a light playfulness, preventing any awkwardness.
I smiled weakly at his joke, which he’d tossed off with a shrug, when his face suddenly hardened with a serious expression.
His gaze had stopped between my legs. The large amount of semen he had poured out three times was still trickling out even as I sat. Just as during sex, his gaze on the space between my legs was unabashedly explicit. He even tilted his head to get a better look. I wanted to act nonchalant, but my thighs closed on their own.
“Let’s get you cleaned up first.”
He abruptly cut off his gaze as if snapping a thread and got out of bed. Thinking he was going to do it himself, I grabbed his wrist without thinking.
“I’ll just rest a bit… and then I’ll do it slowly.”
“……”
His gaze went down again. Because I’d grabbed him, my T-shirt had lifted a little, exposing more of the area between my legs than before. During sex, I had spouted all sorts of things without him even asking, but now that the magic of sex that had numbed my mind had worn off, I was mortified by the sight of my soaked thighs, which had drenched the sheets as if I’d wet myself.
“That… if I keep looking at it, I think I’ll pounce on you again. It’s too much of a turn-on.”
He said that, but as he gently removed my hand and headed for the bathroom, he didn’t seem to have much lingering desire.
The bathroom light turned on, the sound of the tub filling with water followed, and he returned with a wet towel. He moved naturally, still naked with his erect penis leading the way.
It was just that… the penis, which nodded with every step due to its heavy weight, seemed a bit uncomfortable, and he would grasp its base whenever it swung too much. I had to click my tongue at my own lust, my thighs tingling at the sight even though I didn’t have the strength to lift a finger. How on earth had I managed to endure with only such mechanical masturbation until now?
“Ugh, it’s, it’s fine…”
He sat on the bed with one leg dangling off the side and immediately brought the towel between my legs. I resisted, grabbing his wrists with both hands. He paused for a moment, then easily shook off my hands and lifted the hem of my T-shirt.
“I did all of this. So let me. I know I was rough.”
As he said that, wiping my thighs and genitals with the warm towel, his face and touch seemed almost as serious as if he were performing a medical procedure. His penis was still erect, yet his expression and touch as he handled me were plainly devoid of any sexual nuance.
He was perfectly kind, not the least bit awkward or flustered… and so I felt I had to admit that the sex just now hadn’t fazed him at all, that as soon as it was over, his greed for me and his out-of-control wildness had also come to an end.
I’m not resentful of his kindness and manners. I’m not some pervert who wishes he would treat me coldly, push me away, and insult me after he was done, scratching at my heart.
And yet, why was it so suffocating to see him being so perfectly calm and well-mannered? I was being ungrateful.
Saying I wouldn’t suffer later only if I properly got out what was inside, he practically carried me to the bathroom as I was dying of awkwardness and embarrassment. In the meantime, the tub had been generously filled with hot water.
Saying it would be much less uncomfortable and easier to get it out in the water, he told me to take off my T-shirt and squat in the tub.
I had to desperately stop him as he tried to step into the tub after me. I boasted that I could do it myself, but despairingly, I didn’t even have the strength to support my body in a squat. Besides, his tub was much wider than a standard size, so I couldn’t even hold the edges on both sides to steady myself.
After I fumbled and fell on my butt several times, he watched me and then sighed, clicking his tongue from above my head.
“See? I told you you couldn’t.”
Splash. I had no excuse to push him away again as he stepped into the tub. It seemed ridiculous to be this weak, as if my body’s core had melted away just from having sex, and I was angry at my disobedient body, but considering the long, persistent foreplay that had felt like it would melt my entire being, and the rough, intense penetration and knotting that seemed to compensate for that time, and the three ejaculations, it also felt like a natural result.
“Stop being stubborn. You’re going to get bruises in weird places.”
He said in an anxious voice, settling down behind me. His arms immediately went behind my knees. His chest and shoulders touched my back as he lifted me so my butt was slightly off the tub floor.
I wasn’t hoping to be as calm and skilled as he was, but I at least didn’t want to look like an idiot, but was even that too much to ask for…? My eyes squeezed shut at the pathetic sight of myself, my legs forced apart by the strength lifting me from behind.
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