Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“You don’t mean that,” Lucien said, his face uncomfortably hot. Even his neck felt hot. It was probably an ugly sight. He didn’t blush prettily, like some omegas did.
Aksel gave a short laugh. “Trust me, I wish I didn’t mean that. But it isn’t going away, no matter how many omegas I’ve slept with to get you out from under my skin.”
Lucien’s tongue felt too big for his mouth. Until now, he’d never understood the expression “tongue-tied.” He wasn’t sure what he felt, how to categorize the mix of emotions in his chest, what name to give them. He wished they were as simple as horror or revulsion, but they weren’t.
They weren’t.
God, what kind of sick person was he that his immediate reaction wasn’t revulsion? This was his husband’s son. Lucien had watched him grow up. The mere idea of Aksel wanting him should have been repulsive on that basis alone. The fact that he felt a twinge of something ugly at the mention of other omegas Aksel had slept with was more than a little disturbing. But he remembered what it was like to sleep in Aksel’s arms. Imagining another omega doing that made Lucien’s stomach clench with an acidic feeling.
It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t.
“I think you’re just confused,” Lucien said.
“I’m not the confused one here, Luce. I know what I want.”
What do you want?
The question was on the tip of Lucien’s tongue, but he didn’t ask it. Didn’t dare to.
Aksel walked back to him and stopped right in his personal space. “Lucien...” he said, his voice dropping. His eyes were so intense Lucien could barely look into them. He’d almost forgotten how intoxicating Aksel’s attention felt: when Aksel looked at him, he always felt like he was the only person in the world who mattered.
Lucien wet his lips with his tongue, his heart hammering in his chest.
Aksel’s hands twitched toward Lucien, as if he’d intended to touch him but thought better of it.
No, touch me, Lucien nearly blurted out. He blushed, embarrassed and terrified of his own thoughts and wants. It had been years; God, why was he still like this? Was he that touch-starved? That pathetic?
Aksel looked at him searchingly before grimacing. “Forget what I said.” His voice was clipped. “I should have known better. I won’t push you.” He said it again, more firmly, “I won’t.”
“I know you won’t,” Lucien said. “I know you, darling. I trust you.”
Aksel’s expression became pained. “You can’t be real,” he said with a harsh chuckle that was at odds with the tender look in his eyes. “Stop being so perfect, damn you.”
Lucien blinked before laughing a little. “I’m hardly perfect.”
Aksel shook his head. “I’ll stay away from you,” he said, his voice grim even as his hand twitched toward Lucien again.
Lucien looked at that hand, his own fingers itching to touch it, to hold Aksel’s hand the way they used to in their childhood.
But they weren’t children anymore. In light of Aksel’s confession, any intimacy was very inadvisable.
So what? a voice said at the back of his mind. Hadn’t he lost enough? Why did he have to lose everything he held dear? Why couldn’t he have his best friend back? He trusted Aksel. He did. Aksel might be... physically attracted to him, but he would never force his attentions on him. He would never hurt him. Lucien knew that.
Taking a deep breath, Lucien reached out and took Aksel’s hand in his. Aksel’s fingers were bigger, more callused now, but they still fit perfectly against his.
“What are you doing?” Aksel said hoarsely. His shoulders were tense, his gaze heavy-lidded and dark.
“I don’t want you to stay away,” Lucien said. “We can be friends. Like we used to.”
Aksel’s throat moved. He let out a short laugh. “Friends,” he repeated. “We’ve never been friends, Luce.”
Lucien stared at him, feeling a rush of unbearable affection and tenderness. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course we were—”
He gasped when Aksel shoved his face against his neck. “Aksel—” he said shakily.
“Friends don’t do this, Lucien,” Aksel said, his voice muffled by Lucien’s neck. “Fuck, your scent…”
Oh, it felt...
A whine built up in Lucien’s throat, his body melting into Aksel’s. He knew he shouldn’t be allowing this, shouldn’t be allowing such blatant scenting, especially considering what Aksel had confessed, but he just couldn’t push him away. His body didn’t listen to the commands of his brain, as if it were a separate entity that didn’t belong to him.
Surely some scenting wasn’t wrong? It was an innocent, healthy bonding activity everyone in the pack indulged in. Granted, grown omegas usually didn’t let their alpha relatives scent them on their necks, but this still could be innocent. Completely innocent. Lucien wasn’t in heat, nor Aksel was in rut. It was going to be fine. Nothing inappropriate was going to happen. Aksel said he wouldn’t push him, and Lucien trusted him.