He lay in the middle of the queen-sized bed, naked, somewhere between dazed and unconscious. He didn’t turn to look at me when I came in, but when I crouched in front of him, his eyes flickered open briefly. This was a very sick omega. The heat was on him hard and had been for at least two days. From up close, the most beautiful scent in the world—omega in heat—was tinged with the smell of an unwashed and unhealthy body.
There was a plastic bottle of water on the nightstand next to him, cap off and with a few inches of water left in it. I lifted him into a half-seated position and held the bottle to his lips.
He did, with grateful gulps—only two before the bottle was drained. I laid him back down on the bed and went into the kitchenette and found a fresh bottle in the refrigerator and brought it back to him.
“More,” I told him. I nursed him, prompting him again when he lagged, until he’d finished most of the bottle. “Food or shower first?” I asked him. There was a tiny bit more life in his eyes now, a spark of something sane.
“Hungry,” he said. “So hungry.”
His tone told me what he was truly hungry for, but I went in search of food anyway. There was some roast beef in the deli drawer that hadn’t gone bad. Good wolf food, nicely rare, full of iron and protein. I didn’t bother to make him a sandwich like a human might have done, just brought him the package and fed it to him, slice after slice, until he pushed my hand away.
“Shower now?” I asked.
When he nodded, I helped him to his feet and steered him into the bathroom. Even before we’d made it the three steps down the hall it took to reach his bathroom, I knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep himself upright, so I sat him on the toilet while I stripped myself, then guided us both under the steaming water.
He’d been naked all along, but in the dim light of his bedroom, tangled in what remained of the bed clothes, his body had been nothing more than planes and shadows—arousing only because of the way it smelled. Now, illuminated as it was by the harsh fluorescent fixture overhead, there was no hiding how his body appealed to me.
Two days without enough food or water had him cut, like a boxer before a fight, so that his abs stood out in stark contrast as they heaved with his hungry pants. I could see that he’d be lean even when healthy. The breadth of his shoulders and the firm roundness of the muscles surrounding them told me that he made an effort to stay strong. I’d been surprised by the doughy softness of some of the human males I’d fucked for fun, though it wasn’t their fault they ran to fat so easily. This omega was a prime specimen—the delicate fragility of an omega, the hard strength of a wolf.
And then there was his cock—so hard that it rose past the horizontal, pointing upwards towards me as though it knew I were there. I was hard too. Had been since I’d first caught scent of him. My erection was impossible to hide now that I was likewise naked and nearly as impossible to keep him off of. Though he had very little strength, he was using what he had to grab for what he wanted.