Content warning: this story contains adult incest
Fangs and claws are great for taking down prey, but for skinning and butchering you’re going to want human hands. In my twenty-five years on earth, I’ve butchered maybe two hundred and fifty deer, so I make quick work of this one. He’s a beaut, though. My stomach’s growling just looking at him, but a good alpha doesn’t eat until his pack has fed and Mama and Papa raised me to be a good alpha. Some day I’ll have a mate, pups, maybe a whole pack, and I’ll be worthy of them.
For now, I roll the meat in oilskin and load it into my backpack. This baby was so big there’s more than I can fit in my bag, so I put the excess in the smaller bag for Toby to carry, then I whistle for him. He’s off somewhere—cavorting around with no sense of time, as usual. You’d never guess he was eighteen now, not once we’re deep in the woods with everything to sniff and taste and jump over and crawl under. Even for an omega, he’s on the flighty side.
If Mama and Papa knew he was off playing while I caught and dressed the deer, they’d give him another one of those lectures that make him look sad, so I won’t tell them. I don’t really want him to change. I love him just the way he is, every bit of him. He’s the youngest of my siblings and the most precious.
I know I shouldn’t have a favorite, but I do. Toby is just … Toby. And he ought to be having fun. If I were his alpha, I’d spoil him so hard. I’d never make him do a thing. Not hunt, not cook, just serve him on a platter and watch him eat like one of those movies humans find so fascinating.
Toby. That’s what I find fascinating.
I can’t be his alpha, of course. And now he’s eighteen, he’ll find one soon enough. First heat will come any day now, Mama said last week. Mama knows these things, and she sniffed him all over real good, so it’s true. His first heat will come and he’ll find an alpha and go live somewhere else, maybe somewhere far away where I don’t get to see him every day and make sure he gets the heart.
I’ve got the heart set out right now, waiting for him to come and snap it up. I know just how he’ll look when he does ’cause I’ve seen it often enough. Sort of sweetly grateful and entitled all at once, full of joy from the eating of it but also because I saved it for him.
He likes that I spoil him. It’s our thing. There’s six other pups between me and him, the oldest and the youngest, but it’s always been the two of us. My precious little puppy. So small and then growing up so clever, and lately when I look at him I see the man in him—straight and strong and getting less playful every day, except with me.
I see the omega in him too, smell it—not medical, like Mama, but animal, like mate. He’s always been my favorite person and now he’s grown into exactly what my body wants and sometimes I have to look away because I can’t bear how beautiful he is when I think about how that beauty is meant for someone else.
I don’t know what he’s up to now though—found something that needed closer inspection, I suppose, but time’s getting short. The deer pulled us farther west than I meant to go and if we’re going to sleep at home tonight, we should start heading back.
I whistle for him again, adding that note at the end that means “or else.” Toby knows I’ll spoil him right up to the point where I can’t anymore and then my foot comes down. He likes that about me, that I’ll get stern when the situation calls for it, and his repentant compliance lights up my body, makes me want to be just a little sterner until he really believes I might punish him, and then cave right in, go completely soft, because I’d rather chew off my own foot than hurt him in even the smallest way.
Toby has never ignored my “or else” whistle, not once, and the fact that there’s no answering whistle back, no rustle of him running through the leaves to pounce on me, using his full wolf to take me down in human form because it’s the only chance he has of overpowering me, has prickles of fear running up my spine.
I shift without even thinking about it. My wolf nose scents the air, picking up the trace of his trail over the more visceral smells of blood and flesh. I follow my nose without a care for the meat I’m leaving behind. The woods are full of deer, but there’s only one Toby. I howl, calling to him, and my sharper wolf ears catch a whistle in return, faint but not because of distance. There’s something wrong.
I can’t run fast enough, hearing that plaintive note in his whistle like he’s trapped or sick. His scent grows stronger in my nose, but it stops in a clearing with no sign of him. Something like a whine springs from the back of my throat as panic rises through me. My wolf isn’t accustomed to fear. My wolf is hard and ruthless, formidable and controlled. But the wolf loves Toby too.
My name in his voice has me whirling around to find him.
I shift back to human form and cross over to where his voice comes from. Between two boulders, an opening leads down into a burrow. The passageway is barely wide enough for my shoulders to squeeze through but it opens into a cavern big enough for the both of us. And there, curled into a circle, naked and in human form, is my Toby.
My eyes adjust quickly to the gloom. He’s all in one piece, no blood that I can smell, and I get a little angry, thinking this was a game to him and there I was, so scared, but my nose tells me something’s off even beyond the way he keeps trying to crawl over me as I pat down his body, feeling every inch of it for breaks and bumps.
“What is it?” I ask finally. He’s hot to the touch and shaky, clinging to me like he hasn’t in years, not since he got too grown up for cuddles. But he wants cuddles now, so I pull him all the way into my lap and cradle him, my nose sniffing out along his hairline, chasing down that scent that isn’t quite sickness. “Did something scare you?”
“Just needed a den.”
“We could make it home to sleep if we got started.” I kiss his precious head. “I saved the heart for you. Don’t you want it?”
“Uh huh.” But he doesn’t make any move to climb out of my lap, only huddles in closer, his hands seeking out my flesh, clinging to my skin like it’s fur.
“You ran around so much you exhausted yourself, didn’t you? I’ll bring you the heart, love, and once you’ve had something to eat, we can head back.”
It takes a whole lot of effort to separate him from me, but I trot back to where I left the deer and then, moving more slowly in human form, I carry both backpacks full of meat to his den, the heart cradled carefully between my hands. I feed it to him in little bites he takes from my fingers. His tongue flicks over them to chase the flavor, sending tingles of arousal down my spine.
The small space is full of the scent of him, my arms are full of the feel of him, his rough tongue works over and over my fingers, and before long I’m assaulting him with the hard length of my cock jammed tight against his thigh.
He’s seen my cock hard before, of course. During my teens especially, it had a way of popping up under almost any circumstances. But I’m awkward about the way it’s touching him, very aware that this isn’t a random response. It’s Toby I want, so strongly I’m dizzy with it. He’s always smelled good to me, like pack and baby and love, but today he smells edible, like blood and sex and flesh. And then I understand.
“You’re going into heat. We’ve got to get you home.”
“What do you mean too late? We can run in the dark. We’ll leave the deer here to make better time. I’ll catch another one tomorrow.”
“I don’t wanna run. I don’t wanna leave here. It’s too big out there.”
“But I’d protect you,” I wheedle, even though I know an omega in heat needs den, needs closed spaces filled with familiar scents and no extra entrances where an intruder might get in. But Mama should be taking care of him. Mama would know what to do. She’d find him an alpha, a mate.
Toby makes a contented purring sound, and I realize that the thought of him having a mate has made me curl him even closer into my body. My grip on him is so tight it should hurt, but he wants it, needs the security of it.
“Take care of me,” he pleads. As if I wouldn’t. But he means take care of him here, in this den he’s made, not by getting him home. So that’s what I’ll do.
I have no idea how to care for an omega in heat, but I start by feeding him some more, then get the water bottle out of my backpack and make him drink from it. He soaks in the food and water like they’re attention, asking with his body for me to baby him through every mouthful until I understand that he needs the petting and cooing more than he needs the nourishment.
I can give him that. All the love I normally hold back comes spilling out of me in a tumble of praise and kisses and he takes it in like rain on moss, soft and accepting and thirsty, turning his perfect bow of a mouth up to mine and stealing the love straight from it until we’re kissing not like brothers but like mates, our tongues inside each other’s mouths and it’s good, so good, so perfect that it takes me much too long to realize that it’s also wrong.
“Shh, Toby, baby.” It’s a struggle to get him to stop and then his face breaks my heart. “I’ll take care of you, just not like that.”
“Please, Nor?” He moves so he’s straddling me, so our hard cocks line up like two tall trees grown from a single trunk, and attaches himself to me again, pulling my tongue deeper into his mouth this time. I’ve never had my cock inside anyone—not in their mouth or pussy or ass—but now I can imagine how it must feel. “Need you,” he murmurs. “Need you, Alpha.”
My blood surges, my balls clench, a spurt of lubrication pulses from the tip of my cock. Stars Above, I’m gone for him. He owns me and he says he needs me and I’m lost to it. “What … what do you want?”
“Take care of me.”
“I will. I promise. I’ll give you food and water. I’ll hunt for you. I’ll protect you. I’ll carry you home, if you want. I can do it.”
The blunt words from the sweet mouth practically kill me. “Ah, Toby. Toby, love. Ask me something else.” But his body is writhing against mine and his mouth is cruising over the skin of my neck and I can feel the slow drip, drip, drip of slick oozing from his ass to coat my balls. It would be so easy to rock him back a bit to take my cock.
“It hurts.” He grinds down on me, rubbing his wet hole across the base of my cock.
“Hurts where?” I checked him thoroughly when I found him—there were no marks on him anywhere—but now my hands make a second traversal of his body, running over his arms, across his muscled back and lean abdomen, down to his legs.
He makes a humming noise of pleasurable agreement when I reach his thighs that turns into an annoyed whimper when I lose my courage and stop my inventory there. I’m too close to what I want to touch, to the hard shaft and dripping hole.
“It hurts,” he repeats, and this time, so there can be no mistake, he guides one of my hands to his hole. I feel it warm and soft on the tips of my fingers, a welcoming sponge that gives way at the center so that two of my fingers slide inside him like he’s made of quicksand. I can’t stop them from sinking all the way in until the palm of my hand butts up against that slick ring of muscle and even then, I’m pushing, trying to get deeper, working hard into him.
He likes it. He throws his head back, exposing the column of his neck to me, and makes a sound that’s half moan, half howl, as though he’s trapped between forms. His fangs glisten between his lips and I lean forward to lick at them, to allow the sharp tips to tease my tongue into feeding him little drops of my blood. He needs nourishment, yes. I will give him my strength.
He’s a wanton thing on my fingers, shifting his hips until they brush a firmer spot inside him and then he does howl, all wolf. His cock begins to leak as fast as his ass. My mouth fills with saliva as I imagine the taste of him. In this position, I can’t get my mouth on his cock, but I can bring my fingers to my mouth.
The removal of my fingers from his ass earns me a baleful glare.
“We can’t do this,” I say, but my words would have more weight if I weren’t saying them around my fingers. Stars Above, his slick tastes good. If Toby were my omega, I’d feed him the heart of a deer every day and never need anything for myself except his slick. But he’s not my omega. He’s my brother. “Definitely not. No. Behave yourself.”
In a sulk, he pushes himself off my lap, separating us as much as we can be separated in this burrow, which isn’t much. It doesn’t change how clearly I can smell him or the warmth that radiates off his fevered body. It doesn’t make my dick go down either, but that might have something to do with the way I’m still sucking my fingers clean of every last drop of him.
He curls up into a ball with his back to me, which hurts so bad it takes me a moment to hear the competing sounds of stifled sobs and flesh-over-flesh coming from him. He’s crying. And jerking off. And crying.
I’m an alpha, but I’m not made of steel. My strength is offered in service. I’m big so I can help, tough so I can sacrifice. I wasn’t made to listen to Toby cry. Or to listen to him jerk off either. I wrap him up from behind and replace his hand with mine.
“Alpha’s got you,” I croon into his ear. “Alpha will make you feel better.”
I try to ignore the fact that my cock has slid between the cheeks of his ass, that it’s nestled right up against what it wants, but his frantic gyrations make that hard to do. I’ve talked myself into believing that I can take care of his needs—that it’s not wrong unless I get off on it—so I’m begging my body to behave, to let me do this service for him without taking its own pleasure, but I could come just from being this close to him, from his scent in my nostrils and his hair spilling over my arm, and the hard, hot length of his cock surging up to meet my fist.
It’s a toss up which one sends my arousal level spiraling higher—him using my name or him calling me Alpha. It’s more how he says it anyway, like I’m killing him with pleasure, like I’m the only thing on earth he needs. I want to be that. So I tighten my fist and my resolve and sink my teeth into his neck and that does it, that has him coming.
His essence spills over my fingers like a reward. I’m careful to wring every bit of pleasure out of him before allowing myself the indulgence of licking them clean. Then I roll him onto his back and get between his knees to clean his stomach with my tongue. It’s not so different from how we used to groom either other as pups, except it’s completely different because he’s in human form and I just jerked him off.
“Feeling better?” I ask, keeping my eyes just slightly south of his. Maybe now we can shift and run home, but the iron rod butting up under my chin says otherwise. He barely softened, and he’s already hard again.
From on top of him this time, I jerk him off again. He squeezes his eyes shut which gives me the freedom to watch, to revel in the way his mouth drops open and his eyes twitch behind his eyelids as another orgasm bursts out of him. He arches up, his cock coming dangerously close to my mouth, and I can’t help it. I lick the sweetness of his ejaculate directly from the source.
Before I know it, I’ve got his whole dick in my mouth and it’s as hard as if he didn’t just come twice in ten minutes. His hands are in my hair, rough and demanding, and his hips are thrusting up to meet me and I’m just holding on, letting him fuck my mouth with ever-increasing fury until he gives me his third load, straight down my throat this time and my own cock jumps and twitches in sympathy.
I’ve never been so hard. Never been so close to orgasm. Never needed it so badly. I can hardly see through the haze of arousal, weak and dazed with my hunger for him. I want to be in him. It’s where I’m meant to be—my mind can’t tell me otherwise—and then he says, “Fuck me,” again, like a plea, and Stars Above, I have to.
“You need a knot,” I tell him. But he knows that. He’s meeting me halfway, wriggling his way down to find my cock with his ass. “Are you going to be good for me?”
He gives me a questioning look, like he can’t believe he’s going to get what he wants, but when have I ever not given him what he wanted?
“I’ll be good,” he says. “Alpha.” The title is a bribe, and I come cheap.
There’s not much I need to do to get him ready. He’s been ready for an hour and so have I. He’s complacent now, waiting like a good boy, and I wonder if I really need to do this. Maybe he’s sated. Maybe the heat will pass. Maybe jerking him off was enough.
Then, oomph—a foot to my gut. The good boy is gone and my Toby is back. “You promised,” he demands. He lifts his hips off the ground, tempting me with the sight and smell of his virginal hole. A final wave of guilt crashes through me but he forestalls it. “I want you to.”
“Need me to,” I correct.
“Want,” he repeats. And this time when he lifts his hips, I grab them and use them to steer him until the tip of my cock rests against the silky give of his entrance. I’m inside him so easily I couldn’t have stopped it, an easy slide of cock into ass, of intrusion into acceptance, of iron into a smelting oven. I melt inside him.
My body is liquid, my mind is fire. I’m moving in an ancient rhythm, my fingers digging into the points of his hips as I rock forward and back, rushing to meet his movements, echoing his cries. I bury myself as I come, a crashing finale. My knot swells and a pleasure I’ve never known swells with it.
“Oh, Toby, Toby. Toby, love.” I slump forward onto his twitching body to find his mouth, rolling us over so he doesn’t have to bear my weight. I can’t bear it myself. There’s not a bone left in my body, and he’s just as limp on top of me. We’re joined by my knot which throbs in delight, finally home. The soggy sponginess pressed into my stomach tells me fucking him has done the trick. His cock is deflating. His fevered hunger has settled.
I kiss everywhere I can reach, stroking and patting and soothing, gratified when his deeper breathing tells me he’s fallen asleep.
I’ve been a good alpha today. And Toby has been my very good boy.
This was initially intended to be a one-off taboo fuckfest, but Nor loves Toby so much I’m tempted to write more chapters and give them a happy-ever-after. What do you think? More Nor and Toby? Leave a comment.
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