Chapter Text
Vegas blinks.
He blinks again.
He closes the door behind him quietly, eyes quickly scanning the entirety of his bedroom until they fall on the figure curled up in the corner. Tilting his head, he notices his closet door thrown open with clothes messily cluttering the floor. Irritation flashes across his eyes until he notices that some of his shirts were gone.
Specifically the ones he wore recently. He blinks again.
Stepping more into the room, he instinctively looks towards the bed to see the source of his amusement these days. Bed sheets ruffled, pillows and blankets all missing, alongside his little pet.
Frowning, he turns around the room as a small pin of worry needles into his heart. All windows locked and doors locked with a key only Vegas would be able to open. Even if one managed to leave, there were various guards patrolling the halls and gardens. There was simply no way to escape without alerting anyone.
So, where was his little thing?
Ah, the chain.
He was so distracted with the state his room that he forgot he could simply just follow the chain along the floor to find the missing pet. He looks downwards, eyes trailing along the thick, silver chain on the floor. It leads all the way to the bathroom, the door nudged open slightly by the chain.
He slowly makes his way to the bathroom, his steps light as he lightly presses the door inwards, opening it without sound. A gasp of surprise leaves his mouth as he spots the figure curled up inside the tub, burrowed in heaps of blankets and pillows and—were those shirts?
Glee spreads through his chest, pleased at the prospect that his Omega had chosen to surround himself with the scent and belongings of Vegas as his nesting place. It makes his head spin with smugness, makes him want to make his way beside his Omega and feel him purr—
He stills.
Bending down to the tub's height, he takes one pale knee in his hand and pushes the legs apart wide open. His eyes immediately go between the legs and certainly enough, there was a bleeding puffy cunt hidden under a small cock. He swallows, wondering how the fuck he had missed this. He thinks he would remember a cunt being there the first time had taken the poor bodyguard.
Unless.
Unless, the little thing had presented today.
He had heard stories, stories of peculiar cases of late presentation. Of how people who never presented until late thirties or even fifties. Twenty barely seemed far fetched according to those statistics. He had simply assumed the cat like little shit to be an ordinary Beta, never that he had not ever presented.
He gently lowers the leg down, instead cupping the small face. Red tinted nose, dried tear tracks, puffy eyes and crumpled sheets. The newly presented Omega certainly went through a whole painful ordeal to present. His eyes lower down to the bleeding cunt, and he stands up to get a wet cloth.
In his mind he imagines it, imagines the Omega whimpering and screaming as his body reshapes itself to accommodate the presenting, imagines the pretty thing clutching the sheets in sheer desperation of relief but finding none.
He grips the cloth tighter as he slides it across the inflamed skin. The Omega stirs, lovely face scrunched up at the cold contact but makes no move of stirring up from his deep sleep, no doubt deeply exhausted from presented.
His eyes flicker as he finishes wiping, taking in all of the Omega.
It takes him embarrassingly long enough to close his mouth shut and not just leer like an idiot.
"Pete." He calls, softly.
The younger man does not respond, sleeping soundly like a little baby. He breathes and steps away, not wanting to shake him awake. He had heard from passing maids of how much of a terrible effect it had on an Omega if they were disturbed from nesting. The tales are enough to make him let the Omega continue with his slumber.
He leaves the door ajar as he gets out of the large bathroom, settling down on his own bed. For once, he does not mind the littered room and the bare bed. For once, he feels no anger at not finding Pete ready for him on his bed. His mind races with endless possibilities, of endless outcomes, of the surprising yet not unwanted revelations.
Omega.
The laughably pathetic bodyguard had been an Omega. A gem in hiding.
He had seen his fair share of Omegas, his own step mother was one and they were far more common than one would expect in Thailand. Hell, he had even slept with over than ten of them. He remembers their sweet scent and their slick soaked thighs. Would Pete smell just as sweet? Would he smell even better? Would he cry out as he drips out slick—
He noses the air carefully.
He positively groans at the blissful scent surrounding him, caressing him with it's temptation. The smell of vanilla and lilies of the valley urge him to go and take the Omega in his arms, that he already belonged to Vegas anyways. By both familial duties and imprisonment.
Familial.
He closes his eyes shut, leaning backwards against the headboard.
He had never really wanted a family of his own, far too scarred by his own father. The thought of some nameless Omega cradling his child to greet him as he comes home had never appealed to him, in fact repulsed him to the point he became afraid he would become his own father to his child.
Now, he thinks of Pete holding their baby, a mix of their unique features and feels a desire he hasn't felt before. When had he been so taken with the younger man? Was it when when he held Vegas in his arms as he wept, or was it when he would endlessly annoy him with his questions?
When was the last time had cared for someone other than Macau?
He wants, and wants. Like a lunatic desperate for it's permanent fix.
He knows what was to come if he takes Pete as his wife, knows the consequences it will bring from both his father and the Major family. He was no fool, already made aware of the fact that his oldest cousin treasured all of the bodyguards that served closely. Pete too, was no exception to that, perhaps even far more treasured.
He can only imagine what his father will do once he learnt his oldest son bonding with a Omega with such a low station. An Omega with no prestige bloodline and nothing to his name, even when untouched and unclaimed like Pete, paired with one of the most coveted bloodline and heir to the most dangerous Mafia family?
They will all look at his father as the jest of the century.
Not to mention, his oldest cousin will surely call for blood for stealing one of his own under their noses. The rage and fierce protectiveness that ran in Tankhun's blood would prompt him to do no less. He does not even want to think about Porsche and Kinn.
But that did not mean he was afraid of them.
Vegas is indeed no fool and he too was of the infamous Theerapanyakul bloodline. He had inherited all of their cruelty and cunningness while none of his mother's kindness. He would have to play his cards right, this time no room for silly errors like he had with Porsche and he would have the world in his palms.
He knew that if he had Pete by side, bonded and heavy with child, the Major family would have no choice but concede to him. Their damaged pride of having their own compromised in such a way would leave Vegas with plenty of opportunities.
And perhaps, it was finally time to take the throne from his father as well. That old man's plans were bound to fail, and he had no intention of having his birthright empire taken away from him because of one man's greed.
He would have everything, one way or another.
The perfect way to get his point across Kinn, an Omega mate, an Alpha son to his legacy, an empire to rebuild with his own hands.
When he finally rises from his bed, he realizes he's smiling.
Vegas has his entire room remodeled.
He knew his bedroom was barely suitable for a newly presented Omega, far too Alpha-like for an Omega to find security and comfort in.
The most softest and silkiest blankets are brought in alongside matching pillows and bed sheets in piles. He makes no mistake in remembering all the needs an Omega has. He has all his clothes from other estates and mansions delivered to his closet and well prepared.
He even purchases the fluffiest and fanciest rugs available, having heard Omegas often made smaller nests there.
He brings in various books with each different type of stories and genres, CDs with the latest shows and movies print in them. His personal favorite were the soft toys he had bought for Pete, his mind conjuring the Omega cuddling them in their nest while cradling his swollen belly.
All of this, for the sake of Pete's comfort.
In between the remodeling, he takes it on himself to take of the Omega nestled in the tub. He brings in bowls of well made rice and soft vegetables for the man to feed on but each time he would find the man dead asleep on the nest.
Concern had wedged it's way in his chest but after his Omega's face twitches, eyes lightly fluttering, he breathes in relief.
He had crouched down and observed the younger man the first it had happened, far too afraid to simply leave him alone.
But then Pete blearily opened his eyes and looked at the steaming food. Vegas had knelt and taken the spoon in his hand, feeding him bite after bite slowly. When the plates were empty, the Omega would just lean back into his nest and close his eyes again.
Vegas would understand and leave.
There was also the matter of keeping his Omega clean. He was unable to even slightly move Pete away from his nest, scared at the thought of making him drop so he had to wet a cloth and wipe him clean each day. He would lightly dab the cloth on the feverish skin and Pete would wake, stare at him with a dumb expression.
There was no lucidity in his eyes, far too gone in his nesting.
It was a learning experience for Vegas, someone who had only ever inflicted suffering on others and receive pain. He had felt like a floundering new born, limbs stretched too awkwardly and way in over his head to take care of a being so delicate.
He will never admit the way his hands had first shook as he attempted to dress the Omega without causing bodily harm.
Perhaps the sound of the birds chirping away in the morning was his mother's twinkling laugh as she watched him struggle with caring for someone.
Slowly, the Omega grows more and more lucid until he eventually looks at Vegas with a sharp wariness and suspicion. Vegas ignores it all and continues to cater to Pete's needs like a diligent mate. What had irritated him was that the Omega did not speak with him, no matter what he did.
The Omega refuses to speak even when Vegas tries to be on his best behavior.
Insolent little thing, he had thought. But had let it go, pleased enough with the presentation to ignore the daring behavior. Either way, Pete would be receptive to his touch and would obey him soon enough.
He comes back again, bringing bowls of food alongside some more blankets. He wasn't an Omega himself; but he figured that they would love the extra materials anyways. The more, the merrier. Each time, Pete would glower at him as if silently daring him to do something unprompted.
Vegas doesn't bite the bait, an amused smile on his face as feeds the Omega.
The next time, he brings the same dishes but this time with a plate of steaming gaeng sataw. He had spared no expense on researching about his Omega; his age, where he lived, his relatives, his likes, his dislikes, nothing unturned. Spending precious resources like this would earn him a frown from the information department and a beating from his father but he could not find it within himself to care.
He puts the spicy plate down on the small board of the tub, mirth dancing in his eyes he sees the Omega practically lean forward in clear eagerness. Something in the way Pete stared at the dish made him know he made the right decision. The Omega clearly loved spicy dishes, something he would use to his advantage later.
Pete actually reaches for the spicy dish but he slaps the hand away, not unkindly. As much he was elated to see the Omega to react to something other than simply giving him the stink eye, he would not have his little thing have a stomach ache.
"Eat the soup first," He instructs, "Then pair the rice with the gaeng sataw."
Pete growls in his throat, baring his teeth at being denied. To Vegas it was that akin to a kitten trying to intimidate a black panther, he found it adorable, really.
Still, he growls back low and deep, eyes dark. He would tolerate the behavior to a certain degree, but he still needed his Omega to know who was the one in control here. The Omega immediately whimpers, head bowed at the show of Alpha prowess.
He takes the bowl of soup and presents it; his other hand snaking around Pete's neck. He hums at the way Pete's eyes dilate, at the way the Omega clearly shudders at being scuffed like a pup. It was a bit dirty of him, to hold the Omega like this when he knows the effect it had on them; especially the unmated ones.
He chides Pete, "Eat."
Shaky hands take the bowl from his hand, and he watches as Pete gulps the soup slowly. Then he takes the bowl away, and he pushes the plates of rice and spicy dish forward, shows his approval at being obeyed by rubbing his thumb across the swollen mating gland.
Pete takes each one bite slowly.
The whole time he has his hold on Pete firm and tight, watching his Omega tremble underneath it with a biting grin.
Anon's eyes are all knowing when he calls for the bodyguard. The flowery soft scent clinging to his body was a dead give away to anyone coming close to him. Of course, he does clean himself up well enough to mask the scent when he goes out to meetings or to his father; it wouldn't do well enough to let the cat out of the bag so early.
The bodyguard is brave as he asks, "Did master Pete present?"
Master Pete.
He fixes his eyes on the carving knife for letters on his desk.
Anon was one of the kinder bodyguards, the type Vegas would scoff at for foolish soft feelings but he knew the cruelty that lied in Vegas. That was exactly why he had bought his silence and appointed him as Pete's bodyguard. He was a old wise thing, a family too large to care for to betray Vegas and experienced enough life in the Mafia to know the consequences.
He shouldn't really be surprised that Pete managed to get on the bodyguard's good graces. He had after all, made a madman like Vegas fall in love. But it makes him chuckle, as it had made his work much more easier to get done.
Still, he needed to make sure.
"They say my father is going to a meeting to make arms deals with Pirus." He starts, picking up the silver knife in his hand.
"He's going far away to one of the islands," He stands, making his way towards large table in the middle of the room.
Anon stands near the door, like a stone wall with no emotion passing through his eyes.
Taking one of the apples from the basket, he twirls it in his hand.
"He's taking most of the bodyguards with him."
Slowly, he pushes the blade of the knife into the apple, the silver glint shinning brightly as he perfectly cuts it into half.
"Would you like to accompany him," He takes two small white plates, putting each side of the apple in them, "Or would you like to stay here with me and guard Pete?"
He sets the knife down on the table with a clink, turning around to face the old man. He tilts his head to the side, eyes steely as he stares at the man. Here, he would truly see where the loyalty of this man lied. Here, he would see if whether the walls would paint bloody red or remain a beautiful green.
Anon looks back but Vegas could see the way his eyes flinted as if the man contemplating. He could almost taste the fear and struggle the man faced, it's enough to make him jut his chin shark-like. Finally, as if it was deemed enough, the man comes to him.
Anon takes the other piece of the apple, "I hope to hear the laughter of Master Pete's children soon enough."
Then he bites into the fruit and Vegas laughs.
Vegas can't help but wonder.
He had seen Omegas before, seen the way they twist and bloom under his touch. He had partaken in their desire and took his own pleasure, had tasted their sweetness and submission. But he had never seen one quite one like Pete.
So willful and defiant, like a rebellious Alpha pup instead of a Omega pushing their heat.
So, he wonders and stands in front the tub.
Just a taste. He just wanted a taste.
It's laughably easy to take the pants off, slipping between Pete's legs and force those thighs apart. The tub's expensive ceramic dig into his elbows, having to support himself against it. He breathes in that tantalizing smell, letting it wash over him like a wave. He softly massages white inner thighs as wide, frantic eyes greet him.
Ah, his Omega must have woken up at his teasing.
He feels Pete resisting, knees shaking in his bruising hold. He's has not recovered yet, weakness straining in Pete's limbs so he barely feels the way small hands try to push him off. Still, it does nothing to deter him as he gazes down on the wet cunt.
It's a lovely small thing, it's soft pink lips fluttering at the presence of a virile Alpha. Simply lovely, just like the rest of him.
Taking a hand, he lightly traces the sides of the pussy, the wetness glistening as he hears a sob.
"No."
He looks up, at eyes brimming with tears and a face scrunched up as if Pete had smelt a particular unpleasant perfume. He smiles.
"It's okay," He tells him, "It's just me."
Then he's leaning forward, fingers splitting the pussy apart as he licks. The first taste of his Omega is heaven on his tongue, the heady sweetness of it is unparalleled to any other Omega he had ever tasted. He eagerly spreads the cunt wider, burying his tongue completely within silky velvet walls.
Taking a hold of those thighs, he puts them over his shoulders as he presses himself closer. Distinctly, he feels them trembling on his shoulders, feels the way the Omega's pussy tightens around his tongue like a hot glove.
He moans as slick gushes into his mouth, lapping it all up like a newborn suckling on it's mother's breasts. Pete shrieks at a particular suck and he grins against the pussy, like the bastard he is. Fingers make their way through his hair and he allows it, lets them rest on his head.
He feels drunk like this, drunk on the feel of the cunt, drunk on the way Pete tastes, drunk on the way those wonderful thighs tighten around his head. He wants to drag Pete out of this tub, wants to bend him over the table and fuck into him hard and fast, so rough that he'll feel it for days, wants to fill him with his cock and cum until he's dripping with it.
God, he wants.
He wants.
He pulls away.
He gives a shaky laugh as he realizes he's shaking, his body feathering on the point of hysteria. Wiping the slick soaking his face and mouth, he climbs out of the tub shuddering. He had almost felt the ropes of his control slipping out of his iron hands, all because he had tongued his Omega.
He laughs again.
He looks down at Pete. He wonders if this is how the pretty little thing would look after he fucks him.
Legs spread apart with a white t-shirt hiked up, flushed pussy dripping slick messily as Pete breathes heavily, face lax with fatigue. It makes something in him lean downwards, cupping the blushed face as he presses a soft peck on those pink lips. Pete's eyes flutter at the contact, and Vegas feels his heart shutter for a moment.
Pulling away, he turns around to leave.
As he closes the door behind him, he thinks about Pete. Thinks about the his body had trembled underneath his hands, thinks about how the too small pussy had opened up itself for his tongue. Most of all, he thinks about how tight the Omega must be. Vegas would have to force himself in, little by little and wasn't that just exciting?
He would devour the thing, completely taint it with his touch and put his claim in the womb. He would have it no other way.
But for now, he goes in search of warm wet towels and bowls of spicy food.
It's inevitable that he's forced to set off to meetings out of the country, courtesy of his father. So, he packs up and puts Anon in guard, leaving strict instruction as well as with a disturbing threat against his family. He does give credit to the man, given how he remains unflinching and simply nods his head.
Taking one last glance at Pete still curled up in the tub, he leaves and heads for Singapore.
The meeting drags on and on, he can easily see that he was to be betrayed soon enough. The leader of the arms deal gang was not owning up to their mistake in supplies, no doubt having stolen from it. He can almost imagine the glee in the man's face as he eyes the massive wads of cash he got from stealing from their family.
Looking out the floor touch window, he sees the night city in it's fullest glory. The lights twinkle in the dark, far brighter than Thailand and the cars align in the street like a satisfying finished puzzle. He can almost hear the buzzing of people going about their days and the simplicity of it makes him wish for Pete.
Looking back at the man who has still not stopped talking, he says, "Thank you for the service to the Minor family."
And promptly whips out his gun, shooting point blank in the man's head. The blood sprays onto his face, staining his shirt a brilliant red as the man slumps dead in his seat. The warmth of the blood makes him grin vilely.
His two bodyguards stationed beside him scramble into action, gracefully taking down the betrayers guards and killing them. A terrified scream makes him remember the rather public setting of their meeting. Sure, they had emptied the restaurant before coming but there were still all the chefs and waiters. Turning his head, he gently apologizes to the waiters and stands up.
"Bill me the cost of the damage, please. I will have it taken care of it."
Before anyone could create a scene, he gathers his his wallet and walks out to the car. The guard opens the door for him and he steps in, smearing blood all over the pristine seat. He could care less for it, his mind only swimming with the thrill of the death caused by his hand, at the way the perfect copper scent had wafted into his nose.
It was almost as wonderful as tasting his Omega.
It's only until that he reaches his room that he gets the phone call. He glances at in disinterest but immediately tries to pick it up upon seeing the caller id, bloody hands clumsily trying to wipe the slider up.
"Report." He says curtly, as the line connects.
Anon's hard voice replies, "It's master Pete, sir. He seems to have gone into heat."
He takes in a sharp breath, barely spitting out, "Guard him well with your life, I will be there in three hours."
He cuts the call before Anon could reply, hurriedly closing his suitcase and snatching it up. He runs down to the car again, ordering his guard to take care of the situation here and barks at the driver to take him to the airport soon as possible.
His hearts hammers in his ears, no small amount of fear spreading across his mind. He has to be there, he has to. He needs to smell Pete's scent, needs to hold him in his arms, needs to kiss him so deep he won't ever utter anyone else's name and it's driving him mad.
He needs his Omega.
The car barely parks and he throws the door open, running straight to the VIP line where his own personal plane resided. His employees spot him and begin shouting orders at the others to ready the plane. A guard follows him behind as he gets into the plane, taking their stance to protect him in any case.
As he sits, hands trembling and still dripping blood, the guard—Pon, his name—silently hands him a wet towel. He takes it, wiping himself with unsteady hands. He is glad when Pon makes no move in looking at him, he doesn't think he could bear anyone looking at him in this half feral state.
"We will be in Bangkok in a few hours, sir." The pilot informs him and he nods.
Putting the dirtied towel down, he rests his head against the seat and waits.
It's the thick sweet smell that hits him first when he enters his bedroom.
He slams the door behind him, a simple turn of the little lock seals it for him. His head swims at the cloying scent and his knees shake, almost sending him tumbling on the floor but he keeps himself upright, eyes darting over the room to find his mate.
He finds Pete curled on the bed, seemingly having his nest shifted there instead. He stumbles over to the bed, legs hitting the hard board as he reaches out to pick a shirt from the nest—his very own green silk—and pushes it towards his own face.
He groans at the smell of slick and arousal. The Omega must have smeared his own spend while trying to find relief.
At the noise of his arrival, Pete sits up, face steaming red and eyes the brightest Vegas has ever seen. They glowed like jewels, like a cat's would in the dark and he finds him leaning closer, drawn in by the fascinating shade of brown.
His eyes slide down and he takes in the sight of the Omega wearing his satin shirt, bare legs shaking with slick running down his thighs with a flushed dewy glow. Possessiveness curls deep in his gut and he can't help the small growl that starts in his throat.
Discarding the shirt in his hand, he lifts himself on the bed and grabs Pete, pulling him into his embrace as he buries his face into Pete's neck, taking in lungful of the vanilla smell. Taking a hold of the satin shirt, he rips it away uncaring of the damage.
Pete whines, struggling in his grasp but he captures the complaining mouth in a searing kiss, teeth clicking ungracefully as he forces his tongue down the pink mouth. It's sloppy and filthy, it's enough to make him close his eyes. Pete melts against him, makes little gasps as they pull away for breath.
Hold him down, breed him, claim him.
He pushes the Omega down, rubbing his waist in approval as Pete obeys. Straddling the younger man, he slowly unbuttons his own clothes, clearly putting on a show for his little mate. He preens under the attention as the Pete wide eyes roam all over his body in reluctant desire and he will forever remember the way Pete's cheeks had warmed even redder at a particular flex of his abs.
He touches his Omega all over, feeling the smooth and feverish skin under his cold touch. It's addicting almost, the way he can already tell each mole and each stretch mark.
Pete squirms under his touch, desperate in putting their bodies closer but Vegas holds him by the neck, fingernail scratching the swollen mating gland and Pete goes limp, face pinched in a lovely pout that has Vegas pressing a soft kiss on the sweaty forehead.
His Omega is still not fully lost to the heat it seems, going by the adorable glare he was receiving.
Nudging those thighs apart with one hand resting on a white knee, he uses two fingers to spread the lips of the cunt and lines up his cock against it, rubbing the tip on the folds in a way that has Pete moaning brokenly.
Slick pours over his cock, in a pitiful way of trying to get him inside but he resists, instead he grins at Pete, "Use your words, kitty. Tell me what you want."
Getting no reply, he flips the Omega on his stomach, ignoring the way Pete wails at being denied of his relief. He admires the plump behind, one hand massaging a globe. He waits for a few seconds, lets the suspense build as the smell of uncertainty and fear grows. He rubs the cute behind one more time before abruptly bringing a hand down roughly.
He gets a little pathetic cry in response, no doubt the Omega felt upset at being bullied like this but Vegas wanted to see him beg for his cock, wanted to see his red lips spill obscene words that would even shame the greatest of escort boys.
"I asked you a question; I expect you to answer it."
Pete sobs over his words, "I-I don't—"
He sighs, pretending like he hated doing this to Pete, "Why must you always disobey me so? I think I made it clear that if you listen to me, I would treat you well."
"When?"
He chuckles, "Just now."
Before Pete can protest, he presses inside the leaking pussy and closes his eyes as the Omega underneath him keens in distress at being breached without preparation.
Fuck, his boy was so tight it hurts. Too tight.
"That's it baby, taking me so good." He groans, letting the pleasant tingle of having something so warm wrapped around his cock wash over him. When was the last time he had felt something so fucking delicious? So sinful and innocent?
Gripping the pale neck, he wraps his hand around it tight enough to leave Pete breathless. Using it like leverage, he snaps his cock inside hard enough that it reduces the poor Omega to a wailing mess. He fucks him fast and rough, like an animal and wonders if the Omega can feel how loud his heart thudded in his chest.
Pete chokes under him, body shaking with each thrust and the poor thing tries to pry him off once he finds himself unable to breathe properly. Vegas hisses at the slight pain he feels at the scratches, but lets it slide as the cute cunt tightened around him.
He loosens his grip, fingers going lax and the Omega gasps, drawing in lungful of breaths. He laughs as he watches Pete struggle, trapped under him and under his hand, unable to do anything but take his cock.
Claim him.
Slowing, he moves to turn the Omega and comes face to face with the sight of the lovely face filthily with tears and drool. He fondly tucks a wet strand of hair sticking to the flushed face behind Pete's ear, taking in the reddened cheeks.
Letting the hand holding Pete's neck fall, he presses his nose against the bared nape, scenting around the bruised junction. It felt like heaven, watching the pussy struggle to take him in, speared apart and twitching. Bearing down on the Omega, he ruts inside desperately, trying to find that delicious bundle of nerves that would turn Pete into putty in his hands.
"Where is it? Where?"
When Pete suddenly chokes, spasming around his cock he knows has found it. Grinning, he holds the Omega down and pushes, deep inside. Something gives away, the way Pete moans is a siren song for his ears and his knot pops inside.
The knot swells, like an inevitable lock binding them together. Dropping his full weight on his Omega, he huffs as he empties himself inside and the Omega sobs. It takes him a few seconds to realize Pete was crying.
"My good kitty." He coos, brushing the strands pooled around Pete's neck away, right where his mating glands rested. He licks the swollen gland, tastes it's unsullied vanilla for the very last time. After this, Pete would only smell like a mix of vanilla and Vegas's sandalwood; the very proof of their union. No one would be able to deny his claims on the bodyguard anymore.
He bites down until blood draws in his mouth, pooling around the edges. Pete cries out, hands scrambling to find purchase on the sheets; unable to run away from the claiming bite as the knot kept him bound.
Keep his teeth sunk in the gland, he sucks. The blood tastes like victory on his tongue but Pete going limp and mewling in his hold was even a better win.
He doesn't let go of his neck until his knot goes down. Folding Pete's legs together, he slots himself beside him, pulling him closer in his embrace. Pete protests, little sounds of distress high in his throat but Vegas shushes him, thrusting inside the used cunt.
"No more." Pete whines in their kiss, oversensitive at the onslaught of touches and Vegas retaliates by grabbing his hair, pulling at the strands so his marked neck is bared. Mouth salivating at beautiful sight of his bite, he nibbles on it, not forgetting to keep grinding inside the wet heat.
"What makes you think once is enough? I'll fuck you for hours end." He whispers into Pete's neck, breathing in their mixed scent, "Until you'll feel me for days and your belly grows with my child."
Pete gives a cry of misery and Vegas smiles, pulling him in for a biting kiss as his knot inflates once more.