Chapter 6

Adrian Blackwood's room seemed to shrink around them.

The air was thick—the scent of Ethan's latent lust mingled with Adrian's dominant aroma, creating a dense, almost palpable haze. Ethan was still pressed against the door, back arched, legs trembling, his dress pants soaked to mid-thigh. The flow wouldn't stop; it dripped hot, thick, leaving a slippery trail he felt with every gasp of breath.

Adrian held him by the shoulders, fingers digging into the crumpled shirt, supporting him as if he knew that if he let go, Ethan would collapse.

"Breathe," Adrian ordered, his voice hoarse, almost unrecognizable. "Slowly. Control it."

But Ethan couldn't control anything.

The fever rose in violent waves. Every cell in his body seemed to be on fire. His internal muscles contracted rhythmically, empty, desperate for something to fill them, to stretch them, to claim them. His erection throbbed painfully against the damp fabric, rubbing with each involuntary tremor of his hips. His nipples, hardened and sensitive, rubbed against his open shirt, sending direct shocks to his lower abdomen.

"Adrian…" the name came out as a broken, pleading moan. "It hurts… everything hurts…"

Adrian closed his eyes tightly. His jaw clenched. The muscles in his arms trembled with restraint. He inhaled deeply through his nose—a fatal mistake. Ethan's scent hit him like a punch: burnt honey, crushed wildflowers, raw, vulnerable desire. The wolf inside him howled, demanding to be taken, to be marked, to be fucked until the Omega screamed his name and surrendered completely.

But Adrian wasn't just a wolf.

He was also a man. A CEO. Someone who knew what happened when an Alpha lost control with an Omega in heat.

"I can't…" he murmured, more to himself. "Not here. Not like this." Ethan didn't hear. Or didn't understand. He gripped Adrian's shirt with both hands, his nails digging into the expensive fabric. His hips moved forward in an instinctive motion, rubbing his hard erection against Adrian's thigh.

"Please… touch me… anything… I can't take it anymore…"

Adrian growled softly. A guttural, animal sound. He grabbed Ethan's wrists and pinned them above his head against the door with one hand. His other arm encircled his slender waist, pulling him against his broad chest.

"You don't understand what you're asking," he whispered in his ear. "If I start now, I won't stop. I'll fuck you on this table until you pass out from cumming. I'll mark you. I'll fill you to overflowing. And you'll beg for more."

Ethan whimpered. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Then do it… I want to… I need to…"

But before Adrian could answer—before he could give in or resist—Ethan's body convulsed.

A stronger wave of latent heat coursed through him like electricity. His internal muscles contracted violently. The flow increased in hot jets. His vision blurred. His breath stopped for a second.

And then he passed out.

His legs gave way completely. Ethan slid through Adrian's arms like a rag doll.

Adrian caught him in mid-air. Strong arms enveloping him completely, one under his knees, the other on his back. He lifted him effortlessly, as if Ethan weighed nothing.

"Shit" he murmured, his voice trembling.

The scent of heat was now unbearable. Ethan lay limp in his arms, head slumped against his broad shoulder, lips parted, breathing shallow and rapid. His dress pants were dark with dampness from his groin to his knees. The liquid still trickled slowly, dripping onto the six-figure Persian carpet.

Adrian didn't think twice.

He carried him to the private elevator—the one that went directly from his office to the penthouse on the top floor of the building. He pressed the button with his elbow. The doors closed.

During the ascent, he didn't let go of Ethan for a second. He rested his forehead against his feverish forehead. He inhaled the sweet, desperate scent. The wolf growled inside him, demanding action. But Adrian held back. Just barely.

"Hold on, little one," he whispered against his damp hair. "I'll take care of you."

The elevator opened directly onto the penthouse.

The apartment was a palace of glass, steel, and elegant darkness: black walls, minimalist furniture, a 360° view of the illuminated city. Adrian crossed the main room without turning on the main lights—only the indirect LED strips that gave the room a cool blue glow.

He went straight to the master bedroom.

King-size bed with black Egyptian cotton sheets. A mattress that molded to the body. Adrian laid Ethan down with extreme care, as if he were made of crystal.

Ethan groaned softly even unconscious. His body writhed slightly, his hips moving in search of nonexistent friction. His hands gripped the sheets, tearing the fabric. The scent of latent lust filled the entire room now—sweet, sticky, irresistible.

Adrian knelt beside the bed. He took off Ethan's shoes first. Then his socks. Then he unbuckled the belt of his soaked dress pants.

He slowly lowered the zipper. He pulled the wet fabric down his thighs, revealing his completely ruined black boxer shorts—the fabric transparent from so much liquid, his semi-hard penis pressed against his stomach, his swollen, red entrance visible through the thin fabric.

He threw the pants on the floor. He carefully removed the underwear, avoiding direct contact with the sensitive skin. Ethan groaned louder when the cold air touched his exposed flesh. The flow now ran freely, staining the black sheets.

Adrian took a deep breath. He clenched his teeth.

He took a soft towel from the adjoining bathroom, dampened with warm water. He cleaned Ethan with slow, gentle movements—inner thighs, groin, between the buttocks. Each touch made Ethan writhe, groin, arch. Even unconscious, his body responded to the Alpha's touch.

"Calm down…" Adrian murmured, his voice hoarse. "I'm here."

He finished cleaning. He threw the soiled towel aside. He took one of his shirts—a huge, black cotton one—and carefully dressed Ethan, buttoning it just enough to cover him. The fabric swallowed his smaller body, sleeves falling past his hands, the hem reaching mid-thigh.

Adrian took off his own jacket. Loosened his tie. Unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. Sat on the edge of the bed.

And waited.

The latent heat wasn't going to stop on its own. It needed closeness. Touch. The scent of an Alpha. But Adrian wouldn't go beyond what was necessary. Not yet.

He lay down beside Ethan. Pulled him against his chest. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, one hand on his stomach, pressing lightly to calm the spasms. The other hand moved up to his neck, fingers tracing the sensitive skin where the imaginary mark of the dream still throbbed.

Ethan instinctively snuggled against him. Nose buried in Adrian's broad chest. Deep breath. Low groan of relief. His body relaxed a little—not completely, but enough for his breathing to become less desperate.

Adrian closed his eyes. The wolf inside him still growled, but now it was a possessive purr.

"You're mine," he whispered against his hair. "Even if you don't know it yet."

Time passed. Minutes. Hours. Adrian didn't sleep. He stayed there, holding on, breathing the same air, letting his scent permeate Ethan's skin.

And then Ethan stirred.

First a slight tremor.

Then a low moan.

His eyes opened slowly. Glazed. Confused. Feverish.

He blinked. He saw the high ceiling, the indirect blue lights. He felt the warmth around him. The broad chest against his back. The strong arm around his waist. The scent—burnt wood, leather, masculine, safe.

Adrian.

Ethan turned his face slowly. He met Adrian's dark gray eyes staring at him. Intense. Hungry. Restrained.

"Where…?"

"My penthouse," Adrian replied, his voice low, hoarse with suppressed desire. "You passed out in my office. I brought you here."

Ethan tried to move. He felt the oversized shirt on him. He felt the nakedness beneath. He felt the fluid still slowly trickling between his legs, now mingled with their scent.

"I…" his voice faltered. He blushed violently. "I'm sorry… I…"

Adrian tightened his arm around him. He wouldn't let him pull away.

"Don't apologize," he murmured against the back of his neck. "Your body is reacting to what it's always known. You're an Omega. I'm your Alpha. And now you're here. In my arms. Exactly where you should be."

Ethan trembled all over. Not from fear.

From relief. From need. From something that felt like destiny.

He slowly turned his body within the embrace. He faced Adrian. Faces inches apart. Breaths mingled.

"I don't know what to do…" Ethan whispered, his eyes welling with tears.

Adrian brought his hand to his face. Thumb tracing his lower lip.

"Then let me show you."

And he leaned in slowly.

But before their lips touched again…

Ethan felt a new wave rise—stronger, hotter, more urgent.

The latent heat was evolving.

And he woke up in Adrian's arms at the exact moment his body decided it needed more.

Much more.