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Their apartment smells of bergamot and vanilla when Orm comes home.
The scent hits her like a truck running at 100 kph and has her literally stumbling backward when she opens the door.
The pheromones are undeniably Lingling’s, and it has Orm’s inner omega reacting so violently that she has to squeeze her legs together and hold the wall for balance as she tries to center herself and remember where she’s at.
Doing so is a monumental task, however, especially when the scent envelops Orm in its sweet scent, made spicier by the hint of desperation and rawness underneath it.
She’s smelled Lingling’s scent before, basked in it, craved and submerged herself in it during her heat cycles even, but this is… different.
Orm has just made her way to the living room—with much difficulty—when Lingling emerges from their room. She’s wearing a gray Calvin Klein bra and dark jeans slung low on her hips, showing off her abs and the waistband of her boxers. Her long dark hair is messy, probably from running her fingers through it for most of the afternoon, and there’s a slight sheen of sweat coating Lingling’s upper body.
Orm feels slick soak her panties at the sight.
As if Lingling’s scent isn’t enough to trigger her most primal instincts.
Now she’s got visuals, too.
“Orm,” Lingling rasps, voice gravelly and an octave lower than usual, and that alone is enough to confirm what Orm already knows.
Lingling isn’t just pumping pheromones in their apartment on a random Friday—she’s in a rut.
Fuck.
“Ling—” Orm begins, but before she can even utter another syllable, Lingling is already marching towards her, presumably with one goal in mind, her scent almost overwhelming Orm as she gets closer and closer until she’s standing in front of Orm.
Up close, Orm can see her girlfriend’s eyes are practically black, the pupils dilated to the point Orm can no longer see the brown in them. The bergamot and vanilla scent—Lingling’s scent—is overpowering every sense Orm has, and she literally has to clench her hands into fists to stop herself from kneeling down and taking Lingling’s cock into her mouth right in their living room.
There are things Orm needs to do first. Things Lingling needs to do before she goes into a rut. Things that Orm knows Lingling hasn’t been able to do because her rut isn’t supposed to be due for another two weeks.
“Ling—” Orm tries again, but this time, she’s cut off by Lingling’s hands reaching out and grabbing her waist, pulling her in until Lingling has her in her arms, her face promptly buried in the crook of Orm’s neck.
Orm’s body reacts before her mind does, head tilting to the side to give Lingling more room and an involuntary whine escaping her throat at the contact of Lingling’s mouth on her neck, right on Orm’s scent glands.
Lingling has always been possessive ever since they got together a year and a half ago, after all the dancing around each other that they did for three years. She all but growls at anyone who looks at Orm the wrong way and almost got into a fight that one time an alpha accidentally bumped into Orm at a bar.
But Lingling in a rut?
She’s downright territorial.
She will literally drown Orm in her scent to the point that Orm’s natural omega scent of citrus and talc powder is practically non-existent, replaced instead by the sweet smell of Lingling’s bergamot and vanilla.
Lingling had nipped and left visible marks all over Orm’s neck when Lingling was nearing her rut, just to show everyone that Orm already has an alpha.
The worst, though, was the delivery girl incident.
Orm had forgotten to stock up prior to one of Lingling’s rut cycles, and she had to resort to ordering takeout just so they both wouldn’t starve with all the sex they were having.
And it would’ve been fine, except when Orm went to the door to get their food, the delivery girl was an alpha. And Orm’s scent, despite being drowned out by Lingling’s, triggered a response from said alpha, and Lingling, territorial beast that she was, suddenly came up behind Orm, growled at the poor, scared alpha, grabbed the food, and slammed the door closed without even paying.
And then proceeded to fuck and knot Orm against the damn front door.
Suffice to say that Orm punished Lingling by edging her for two hours after she recovered from the rough fucking and the inability to move for more than half an hour.
She also paid the poor alpha triple of what Orm owed her a week after the incident, after Orm was able to stand on her legs again without them turning into trembling jellies every time.
Orm has learned her lesson since then.
Except again, Lingling’s rut isn’t due for another two weeks, goddammit.
And Orm knows they have no stocked groceries because today is just Friday, and Saturday is their dedicated day for food shopping.
Lingling continues to smell and scent Orm, her pheromones wafting in the air, almost suffocating in its intensity.
Except it’s not really smothering because Lingling’s scent is Orm’s favorite, and she can, will, and has willingly succumbed to it on multiple occasions.
With today being the exception because—
“Your list, Lingling,” Orm says, her voice rougher than she wants it to be, what with her biology readily reacting to Lingling’s rut and pheromones.
And this close to Orm’s heat, she knows she won’t be able to resist if Lingling starts exploring with her hands.
Which she promptly does the moment Orm thinks it, and Orm swears she gushes at the rough and hurried way Lingling touches her, at the way the size of her hands practically engulf Orm’s whole waist, at the way she grips, massages the flesh like she wants to pull Orm apart and put her back together with her expert hands.
And Orm will simply let Lingling.
Wait. No. Not yet.
“Ling,” Orm tries again, but even the fight and sense in her voice are gone, replaced instead with the primal need to submit to her alpha, to the glaring desire straining against her jeans, pushed right against Orm’s stomach.
The outline of Lingling’s hardness is enough to remind Orm of how devastatingly good Lingling is in bed. Add that to the fact that her stamina can last her hours with little to no downtime is just the cherry on top of her absurd sexual prowess.
And with Lingling in her rut?
Orm knows they won’t be getting out of their bedroom for the next four days.
Which is why Orm really, really needs to at least inform someone of the situation.
“Ling,” Orm says again, this time with more firmness, hoping that her serious tone will pierce through the fog of rut clouding Lingling’s mind, “I need to inform Oom.”
A gruff, “No,” is muttered against Orm’s throat right before Lingling starts nipping at the skin there, her hands rougher and more demanding as they pull Orm closer until even air can’t get past between them.
It pulls a moan from Orm that she tries to stifle, but the sound still escapes her lips, and she can feel Lingling smiling against her, satisfied at having extracted her intended reaction from Orm.
“Need to be inside you now,” Lingling whispers, punctuated with one rough thrust against Orm’s stomach.
This time, Orm moans—loud and surprised.
She can’t think, can’t breathe without bergamot and vanilla invading her senses, and she’s one kiss away from succumbing to Lingling’s desires herself.
A spark of inspiration lights up in Orm’s mind. “Let me suck you,” she says, making her tone as sultry as possible, knowing damn well Lingling can’t resist it when Orm voices out her need to taste her.
Another rough ‘no’ quickly followed by, “I don’t want your mouth. I need to be inside you. Need to fucking breed you.”
That effectively demolishes the last of Orm’s restraint, and she lifts her hands to extract Lingling’s face from her neck.
A growl reverberates through Lingling’s chest, annoyed at having been denied again, but it quickly transforms into a satisfied purr when Orm pulls Lingling in and kisses her.
The kiss isn’t sweet or loving. It’s unlike the kisses they share after a long day, when they haven’t seen or talked to each other except during their breaks.
No, this kiss is one that is borne of unrestrained lust and wanton need, of raw desperation and the urge to be closer and closer and closer until they’re one.
Lingling kisses Orm like she’s the very oxygen she needs to breathe and live, each swipe of her tongue wet and needy, every nip at Orm’s lower lip claiming and ruinous.
And Orm succumbs to it. She holds onto Lingling’s face and returns the kisses as much as she can, allowing Lingling entry to her mouth and letting her taste and suck and bite, until Orm can only smell, taste, and feel Lingling.
Orm doesn’t even get to protest when Lingling lifts her up in her arms, carrying her to their bedroom with ease and without pausing or breaking their messy kiss.
Lingling lays her down on the bed with carefulness that is a stark contrast to the way she’s been manhandling Orm earlier, her hands mindful of their strength as they push Orm down on the mattress.
And then all of that cautiousness gets thrown out the window when Lingling begins to rip through Orm’s blouse.
The complaints at the tip of Orm’s tongue promptly die when Lingling envelops her nipple without even removing her bra first.
A bolt of pleasure strikes Orm to her core, and a loud moan escapes her lips, her citrus and talc powder scent spiking at the same time slick gushes from her cunt.
“Ling,” Orm whines, high and aroused at the way Lingling carelessly and selfishly bites her nipple, sucking it through the fabric and making Orm forget all coherent thoughts.
One of Lingling’s hands comes up to massage Orm’s other breast, rough and borderline painful, and Orm can only buck up against Lingling’s mouth, her hips jerking and pressing against the hard bulge in her alpha’s jeans.
The action elicits a growl from Lingling, her body instinctively pushing Orm’s hips down with her own. She pulls away just long enough to huff out, “Don’t fucking move,” before enveloping Orm’s nipple with her warm lips and wet tongue again.
Lingling has never been this harsh or careless with Orm during foreplay before—her words always mindful and giving, actions careful and soft—but Orm will be lying to herself if she says the rough treatment she’s getting from Lingling doesn’t turn her on.
It does—heavens, it does—and Orm knows there’s no turning back for her.
When Lingling pulls back after laving both of Orm’s still-clothed breasts with nips and licks, they’re both panting, their pheromones mixing in the humid air of the room, and Orm is sure her underwear and slacks are ruined beyond comprehension.
And then she looks down at Lingling’s body—at the flushed and heaving swell of her breasts, at the taut muscles of her abdomen, at the hem of her boxers peeking through her jeans.
At the prominent bulge in between her thighs, straining and staining Lingling’s boxers and pants with precum.
Orm gulps. She lifts her gaze until they meet Lingling’s again.
Her alpha’s eyes are anything but lucid. The love and devotion that are always present in her gaze when she looks at Orm are gone, replaced with lust and need brought on by her rut.
It scares Orm.
And deep down, it excites her, too.
“Ling, my alpha,” Orm murmurs, no longer able to deny to herself that she wants Lingling like this—near-feral, mindless and selfish, driven only by the animalistic need to fuck, knot, and breed.
A low growl reverberates through Lingling’s chest at the wanton way Orm says her name. “Spread your legs,” she says, and Orm’s body automatically obeys.
Without another word, Lingling pounces on Orm, hands grabbing at her slacks and underwear, tugging them off and throwing them away carelessly with a low growl rumbling in her chest the whole time.
When Lingling reaches Orm’s bra, Orm attempts to help her remove it, only for her hands to be batted away with another growl.
“Mine,” Lingling huffs, fingers deftly removing Orm’s bra and giving it the same treatment as Orm’s panties and slacks.
The possessiveness that Lingling exhibits and the gust of air that hits her nipples make Orm gasp, hips bucking and seeking relief from the overwhelming pleasure that’s overtaking her body.
She’s not in heat—not yet anyway—but Lingling’s rut-driven actions and words have a copious amount of slick running down her pussy, preparing her body to take and take and take—
Lingling’s mouth descends on Orm without warning, crawling down Orm’s body until she reaches the juncture between her thighs. And then Lingling is opening her up, her tongue parting Orm’s slit and seeking out Orm’s sensitive bundle of nerves in one swift action.
“Ah, fuck!” Orm wails. The touch is unexpected but not unwelcome, pleasure licking underneath her skin and making her eyes roll to the back of her head.
It feels good—way too good that Orm can’t even decipher what’s up or down anymore or why they need to pause and take a breath or else she’ll go into sympathy heat.
Yet when Lingling starts to circle and flick Orm’s clit with the tip of her tongue, each swipe and lick deliberate and rough, Orm is helpless against the current of pleasure that washes over her, her hands finding purchase in Lingling’s hair, gripping and unsure if they want to pull her in or push her away.
“Ling,” Orm moans out loud as Lingling continues to eat her out with the intensity of a hungry wolf, hands keeping Orm’s legs apart, fingers digging into Orm’s flesh and leaving indents on her skin.
The sensations are almost too much but still not enough to push Orm over the edge, her body craving something else, something more, something—
Lingling pushes two fingers in Orm’s entrance at the same time she sucks her clit, and Orm comes in Lingling’s mouth, the tautness leaving her body as waves after waves of pleasure crash through her, prolonged by Lingling’s insistent tongue on her wet folds.
The orgasm leaves Orm’s body pliant, easily yielding when Lingling flips her onto her stomach and grabs her hips up, so her ass is in the air, face planted against the pillow, positioned for easy taking from behind.
Lingling blankets Orm’s back a second later, her cock settling over the curve of Orm’s ass, right between the cheeks, and Orm idly wonders when Lingling had the chance to remove her jeans.
But that thought quickly disperses when Lingling presses firm against Orm’s ass, her precum making the action easy, her cock gliding across Orm’s sweat-slicked skin.
Lingling continues the same action, sliding her cock against Orm’s ass cheeks, the friction just enough to make Orm moan and squirm underneath the heavy weight of Lingling against her back.
The movement only makes Lingling snarl, the sound vibrating against Orm’s back as she ruts against Orm, all while her hands continue their exploration of Orm’s body, kneading flesh and nails digging into the skin of her breasts, her waist, her thighs.
“Lingling,” Orm manages to whimper despite the onslaught of sensations and pleasure overwhelming her senses. “Baby, please.”
“Don’t move. Let me use you.” The order is said with just enough bite for Orm’s inner omega to display her neck in obedience, a whimper of submission escaping Orm’s lips before she can stop it.
And it seems to be the right thing to do when Lingling purrs in approval, her movement slowing down just enough to let Orm breathe.
Yet the brief reprieve doesn’t last long when one of Lingling’s hands moves away from Orm’s hips.
Orm doesn’t even realize what Lingling is doing until she feels the tip of Lingling’s cock nudging at her entrance from behind, the smooth cockhead sliding wetly against Orm’s drenched folds.
Orm gasps at the feeling of it, at the thick girth she knows will stretch her once Lingling pushes in with one smooth stroke.
And Orm can only claw and scream against the sheets when Lingling finally thrusts into her—just one hard push that lodges her cock deep into Orm’s cunt, her walls fluttering to accommodate the sudden intrusion.
“Fuck,” Orm hears Lingling groan behind her, her body still blanketing Orm’s back as she starts to move her hips back only to push back in with intent. “You’re so warm and tight. You have such a perfect fucking pussy, Orm.”
The filthy words and the way Lingling’s cock continues to ram into Orm’s cunt have Orm whining high in her throat, fingers digging into the ruined sheets, mouth open with nothing but stuttered breaths and moans spilling out.
Lingling fucks Orm like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do, hips hitting Orm’s ass, the slaps of sweaty flesh against flesh, and the squelching sound of her pussy taking Lingling’s cock echoing loudly in the room.
And then Lingling pauses, unplastering herself from Orm’s back.
Orm almost whines at the loss of skin-to-skin contact before Lingling gathers Orm’s hair with her fingers, wrapping it around her hand and proceeding to use it to pull Orm up so she’s forced to her elbows.
The sudden action and force of Lingling’s tug only heighten Orm’s arousal, whimpers and moans spilling more freely from her lips now.
“You’re so fucking soaked,” Lingling says from behind her, continuing with the rough thrusts and driving Orm to the brink of her second orgasm. “I would think you’re in heat if I didn’t know you any better, if I didn’t know you enjoy being used like this. Like you’re nothing but a sex toy for me to use.”
The degrading words shouldn’t make Orm gush more onto Lingling’s cock, but she does, good heavens, she does, her scent spiking alongside the flood of slick, and Lingling notices.
Lingling chuckles, low and a little cruel, and fucks harder into Orm until she hits that spot inside of her that has Orm seeing stars behind her eyelids, an orgasm being ripped through her unexpectedly.
Orm doesn’t even get to enjoy the break of tension in her body when Lingling flips her over onto her back and immediately pushes inside again, her cock sliding in so smoothly and settling in snugly inside.
The breath that Orm is just about to take in gets knocked out of her when Lingling takes both of Orm’s legs and drapes them over her shoulders.
The new angle opens Orm further up for Lingling, her cock hitting deeper and harder, and they both moan out loud when Orm only clenches in response.
“I want to breed you,” Lingling admits, and the raw honesty in her eyes and voice makes Orm’s pussy produce more slick, like her anatomy knows exactly what that means.
And it does.
“Pump you full of my cum, fuck you until you’re pregnant with my pups,” Lingling continues, too far gone now, her words practically slurred as she continues to fuck Orm, her pace punishing now, relentless, selfish.
Orm absolutely loves it.
“Ling—”
“I’ll fuck you until you know nothing but my name, my cock in your pussy. You’ll feel empty without me inside of you, and you’ll beg me for my cum until that’s all you can think about.”
The images that Lingling’s filthy words are enough to trigger Orm’s orgasm again, and she comes around Lingling’s cock, pleasure crashing over her in waves, her pheromones wafting in the air, mixing with Lingling’s and creating a heady mix of their combined scents.
But Lingling isn’t done.
Orm knows she’s nowhere near done.
“You’d want that, wouldn’t you?” Lingling says, fucking Orm even harder now, her pace becoming uneven, movements turning messy and rougher as she nears her own climax, as her knot grows at each push in, bumping against Orm’s entrance and mixing pain and pleasure into a potent mix.
“You want me to breed you, knot you so we’re tied,” Lingling continues. Her voice sounds like it’s coming out of a throat full of gravel, rough and heated, and Orm can only cry out in response as Lingling adds, “Say it. Say you want me to breed you. Admit that you want me to claim you as my omega and make you my filthy little slut.”
Normally, those aren’t words that Lingling says even in the heat of the moment, but Orm knows the rut has overtaken Lingling’s mind.
And even though they’re filthy and absolutely debauched, Orm can’t even find it in herself to deny it because she does want that.
So, she says as much.
“Yes,” Orm agrees, the word practically punched out of her throat when Lingling rams harder into her, her knot nudging at her entrance at every thrust now. “Yes, fuck, please, breed me, Lingling. Fuck me until I can’t walk, and even after. Knot me, alpha. I need to be full of your cum.”
“Fuck,” Lingling groans. “I’m gonna come.”
“Knot me first, baby. Please. I need it.”
Lingling nods, too far gone to deny Orm and herself anything. She slows down just enough to gently ease herself into Orm, until her knot is right against Orm’s entrance, stretching her wider than before.
It’s swollen, bigger than Lingling’s dick girth, and even though Orm has taken it once before when Lingling went into a sympathetic rut, it was during Orm’s heat, and her body was literally made to take it.
But today?
Orm is half-afraid that she won’t be able to take Lingling’s knot despite all the orgasms and slick she’s been producing since she got home.
Except Lingling is an alpha on a mission and knows Orm’s body more than Orm herself. “You can take it, and you will,” she says at the same time she slowly pushes her knot past the tight muscle of Orm’s entrance.
The push in is almost painful, and Orm’s hands scrabble to find purchase in Lingling’s arms, nails scratching down the skin as Lingling slowly, tortuously slides her knot until it’s fully inside.
Orm almost wails.
She feels so fucking full.
So damn overtaken by pleasure, a slight hint of pain, and all-consuming heat from where she’s stretched tightly around Lingling’s knot.
She’s taken Lingling’s knot, but not like this, not when she’s still half-lucid and not in heat.
And yet, as Orm slowly becomes used to the feeling of fullness, of every ridge and swell of Lingling’s cock inside her pussy, the pain subsides, and the pleasure becomes almost overwhelming because now she can feel Lingling everywhere.
One of her hands is cradling Orm’s cheek, her touch soft and careful, so unlike the other that’s gripping Orm’s hipbone for dear life.
Lingling’s scent, which has now become mixed with Orm’s, is still spicy and intoxicating, and Orm can’t breathe in without also taking in bergamot and vanilla.
And Lingling’s cock?
Oh, Orm can feel Lingling’s cock pulsing inside of her, held still by Lingling’s control, impeccable even in a state of rut. Every inch of her shaft and knot fits perfectly inside of Orm that Orm thinks she’s literally molded from the mud of the earth to hold and house Lingling Kwong.
Orm doesn’t even know where she ends and Lingling begins.
And when Lingling leans down to bury her face into the crook of Orm’s neck and nips and sucks hard enough to leave a bruise—right where a mating bite will be—Orm tightens around Lingling, a moan slipping past her lips.
The scent of bergamot and vanilla is almost too much as Lingling continues to pump pheromones at the same time she ruts into Orm, slower now but no less deep.
The combination of every sensation—of the hot, thick cock inside her, of the continuous nibbling Lingling is doing on her neck, of the heady scent of bergamot and vanilla—pushes Orm over the edge one more time.
It’s enough for Lingling to spill inside her seconds afterward, a growl ripped out of her throat before her teeth sink into the flesh of Orm’s shoulder, the bite’s placement near enough on her neck to almost bond and mate with Orm for the rest of their lives.
It triggers another orgasm from Orm, her body helpless against the overwhelming sensations, and by the time Orm comes back to her senses, Lingling is still inside her, knot tying them together, face hidden in Orm’s sweaty neck.
When Orm speaks, her voice sounds like her throat has been scraped raw with a spoon. “Are you okay?”
Lingling lifts her head. “Not enough,” she rasps right back, gaze clouded with pure lust and primal instinct, and Orm knows she’s in for a long four days.
When Orm wakes up after passing out from three straight hours of being fucked in every imaginable position known to mankind, Lingling is fast asleep beside her.
The room feels stuffy and thick with their combined pheromones and the smell of sex, and Orm almost whimpers at the memories the smell evokes from her.
She almost doesn’t want to leave, but she knows there are things she’s supposed to do, things she can only do while Lingling isn’t conscious and on the verge of going feral.
Orm slowly gets out of bed, careful not to jostle Lingling awake before she pads outside their bedroom naked, her thighs already sore and aching, torso a little tender from all the hickeys and nips Lingling left on her skin.
It’s a miracle she can still walk on her legs.
Orm finds her purse discarded in the middle of the living room, and she quickly retrieves her phone from it to send a quick message to Oom, Lingling’s assistant.
“Lingling’s in a rut,” Orm types, “Two weeks ahead of schedule. We’ll both be indisposed for the next 7 days, so please adjust her schedule accordingly. Thanks, Oom. I owe you one.”
She also files a 7-day emergency leave that she knows she’ll have to begrudgingly explain when she gets back.
Which is something she already dreads to do because is she just supposed to go and say, “Yeah, I’m sorry I had to leave for a week. My alpha girlfriend’s rut lasted for four days, and I needed three days to recover from all the fucking we did”?
Yeah, no.
Still, nothing she can do about it now except wish for the best.
And to also order food that she can easily cook or heat up before Lingling’s rut takes over her common sense again.
Orm has just placed the food order when she hears a rustle coming from the hallway leading to their bedroom.
Lingling’s scent hits Orm’s nose before she even sees her, her pheromones stronger now, a little intoxicating.
It smells hungrier, too, more dangerous, like the few minutes that Orm spent apart from Lingling is enough to trigger Lingling’s protective and territorial alpha instincts.
When Orm turns, she sees Lingling walking towards her, as bare as Orm is, cock already leaking from the tip and standing red and proud against her lower stomach.
Orm’s mouth goes dry at the sight.
“Orm,” Lingling whispers. The word is raspy, spoken like it comes from deep within Lingling’s soul, and it’s enough to make Orm gush with slick, her biology betraying her.
Lingling immediately picks up on Orm’s arousal—because of course she does—her nostrils flaring at the smell of it, chest vibrating with another primal growl.
That tells Orm that Lingling is in the height of her rut now.
Orm puts away her phone after sending a quick note to the delivery rider to leave their food by the front door and leave immediately.
She’s just about to beckon Lingling when Lingling comes bounding to her with a look of concentration on her face that tells Orm one thing: Lingling needs to knot Orm again.
Before Orm knows it, Lingling is on top of her on the couch, their bodies now horizontal as Lingling begins to rub her face against Orm’s neck, nosing at the hickey she left earlier.
The action is possessive and instinctive, Lingling’s pheromones turning headier as she continues to scent and claim Orm in every possible way without mating her.
“Ling, baby,” Orm begins, not knowing what she wants to say but knowing she needs to say something to tether Lingling back to reality—at least for a little bit.
They can’t be knotted in the living room.
Lingling’s knot takes at least thirty minutes to deflate, and by the time it does, Orm’s back will be sore.
And if they start fucking here and now, the couch will be Orm’s mattress for the next hour.
And that’s just a big fat no.
“Let’s go to bed,” Orm implores, hoping that her scent will help calm down Lingling’s primal instincts to fuck and knot until she’s wrung dry.
Lingling shakes her head before lifting it up. Her expression is serious, even though her eyes are wild with want and her scent is almost suffocating with its intensity. “No. Need to be inside you now. Fill you with pups.”
Orm groans. Her body is already betraying her, producing more slick, and her brain is going fuzzy with arousal. Her scent is becoming thicker, too, almost matching Lingling’s potent smell.
“You’re not yet pregnant,” Lingling says, her voice carrying both promise and threat, gaze heavy as her eyes roam all over Orm’s face. “I’m not stopping until you are.”
The words and the look on Lingling’s face have Orm submitting easily, all thoughts of enduring back pain and the risk of being heard by their neighbors and the delivery rider evaporating from her mind.
None of those things matter when Lingling’s is already moving against Orm, her cock settled against Orm’s cunt, the veiny shaft sliding wetly against her folds and effectively eliminating anything and everything from Orm’s mind that isn’t related to being bred by Lingling right here on this couch.
Orm knows she’s most likely to enter a sympathy heat at this point, but she can’t give a flying fuck when Lingling’s stuttered breaths are warming up her neck, her weight heavy as she presses herself closer to Orm, Lingling’s shaft gliding across Orm’s lower lips and clit.
Lingling is everywhere, and it’s still not enough.
It won’t be until Orm is full of Lingling’s cock and cum, her womb filled with Lingling’s pups.
The thought makes Orm’s scent spike, and Lingling immediately picks up on the spice now underlying Orm’s talc and citrus smell. She growls, the sound reverberating against her chest and right into Orm’s—animalistic and territorial.
Lingling doesn’t say a word, though, only shifts her hips back a little, and Orm only realizes what’s happening when the head of Lingling’s cock nudges at her entrance, the tip warm and soaked with both of their combined arousal.
When Lingling enters her, Orm throws her head back, baring her throat. Lingling wastes no time burying her face in the crook of Orm’s neck, teeth already nipping at the flesh there, scenting and driving Orm mad with the need to be fucked over and over until her back leaves imprints on the couch.
To be knotted and pumped full of cum so Orm feels nothing but Lingling.
To be bitten and mated as Lingling breeds over and over and over until she’s carrying Lingling’s child—just like how Lingling wants.
“You’re so warm,” Lingling rasps against Orm’s neck. She begins to pull her hips back and slams down into Orm with a force that knocks the breath out of Orm’s lungs. “So tight. So perfect. Fuck.”
Orm can only whine and reply with the same level of need, “Ling, please.”
Lingling doesn’t let Orm breathe after that. She pounds Orm to the couch, her hips heavy at each slam down, the tip of her cock reaching places Orm doesn’t know existed until now.
The sounds of their fucking are hollow and obscene, echoing in their living room. Their scents are musky and intoxicating, and it only succeeds in putting Orm in a heated haze, her mind blanking as her senses become overwhelmed by the pleasure each thrust of Lingling’s hips evokes in her.
Orm’s hands scramble to find purchase on Lingling’s back, her nails digging into skin, pulling her in closer and closer until Lingling’s nose is practically molded into Orm’s neck.
Lingling mouths at the skin there again, nipping close to where a mating bite should be, and Orm whimpers at the thought of being mated like this—on their couch with her legs wrapped around Lingling’s hips and fingers digging into the muscles of her back, Lingling’s cock deep inside her.
It takes root in Orm’s mind, amplifying the desire in her veins, the need to bond with an alpha—her alpha—and Orm immediately reaches out to pull Lingling away from her neck to instead cradle Lingling’s face in her hands before Orm says something delirious like, “Bite me. Mark me as your omega.”
Their mouths slot over each other, lips parted, tongues wet when they meet and tangle. Their kiss is messy and ruinous, and Orm whimpers against Lingling’s mouth when Lingling bites her lower lip at the same time she bottoms out inside Orm.
Orm doesn’t even know what’s up and down anymore.
And then Lingling speaks out words that completely decimate Orm.
“Bear my children, Orm,” Lingling groans—no, pleads against her mouth, her breath stuttering, hips never once losing their rhythmic pounding. “Be my omega forever.”
Despite the heat starting to flood Orm’s mind and threatening to overwhelm her common sense, Orm remembers they shouldn’t mate like this.
Not when Lingling is in a rut, and Orm is entering a sympathy-induced heat.
Not when they won’t remember it and will probably regret the way they did it.
Still, Orm isn’t cruel.
And so, she says, “I will. Oh, baby, I will. Just not now. Not yet. Not like this.”
The sound Lingling makes is a mix of a whine and a growl. She ruts harder into Orm, rhythm mindless now, solely focused on chasing after some form of pleasure after the denial from Orm.
And Orm just lets Lingling.
Orms allows Lingling’s hands to take her wrists and hold them above her head, pinning them there as she sucks bruises on the column of Orm’s throat—the closest thing to a mating bite they can have right now.
Lingling punctuates every nip and suck with a heavy thrust that further molds Orm’s back into the couch until she’s coming inside of her omega, hot spurts of cum painting Orm’s walls with white, filling her and clouding all common sense.
But it’s not enough.
Lingling hasn’t knotted her, and Orm needs to feel her, taste her. Have her in every possible way until Orm is nothing but Lingling’s.
Which is the only reason why Orm even says what she says next, “Fuck my face, my alpha. I want to taste you.”
Normally, Lingling would’ve balked at the vulgarity of those words. She’d shy away, stuttering and flustered, but would ultimately comply when Orm beckoned her with soft words and softer lips.
It’s a push and pull that Orm has come to expect whenever she allows herself to be honest about her desire to be used, and Lingling—gentlewoman that she is—is too turned on and shocked to function properly.
Except this Lingling is in a rut, and she doesn’t have the restraint that she usually has.
Lingling immediately removes her grip on Orm’s wrists and pulls out, her cum dripping out of Orm’s cunt in the process, warm and slick and messy.
Orm doesn’t even bother to think about how they’ll need to have this professionally cleaned or thrown out when Lingling clambers over Orm’s body until her cock is right in Orm’s face, the tip red and still damp from their combined slick.
It makes Orm clench around nothing, her pussy already missing the shape and feel of Lingling’s cock inside her, but she tamps down the urge to ask Lingling to fuck and knot her from behind.
Instead, Orm lifts her gaze up until she’s looking at Lingling, who’s watching her with heavy-lidded eyes, mouth parted, cheeks flushed with the fever of a rut.
Lingling is so sexy and beautiful like this, wrecked and unrestrained.
And Orm can’t wait for their cycles to sync, for her heat to align with Lingling’s rut naturally instead of being sympathy-induced.
Oh, the things they can do together will be endless.
Lingling growls lowly, and Orm realizes she’s been staring up blankly at Lingling during her daydreaming, her lips nowhere near where Lingling needs her.
Before Orm can remedy that, though, Lingling loses her remaining threads of patience.
“Suck my cock, omega,” Lingling rasps, her voice scratchy, aroused beyond comprehension. “Don’t use your hands. I just want your mouth. Show me what that pretty little mouth can do.”
Orm moans at the words, at the implications of being nothing but a mouth for an alpha—her alpha—and she leans forward without breaking eye contact until her lips are wrapped around the tip of Lingling’s cock.
The taste of Lingling’s cum—slightly bitter and sweet—combined with Orm’s wetness has Orm whining around the cockhead. It’s filthy and degrading and heady all at once, and Orm realizes she likes it, likes the taste of herself on Lingling.
Her tongue darts out to gather more of that unique taste, swirling around the small slit and the underside before she sucks hard.
“Oh, your mouth is glorious,” Lingling growls at the same time her hips jerk forward.
The action causes more of Lingling’s cock to enter Orm’s mouth, her lips parting wider to accommodate Lingling’s length and girth.
Lingling’s cock is long and big, and Orm has always struggled a little in taking Lingling in her mouth, but the slight fear of being unable to completely swallow Lingling’s cock is nothing compared to the raw need to see Lingling coming undone, to taste her cum with her tongue.
And so, Orm relaxes her throat before she starts to bob on Lingling’s cock, never once removing her gaze from Lingling’s face as she begins to suck her in earnest.
“Yes, just like that,” Lingling hisses. “Such a good girl, my omega.”
Orm whines around Lingling’s cock at the praise, and she longs to reach between her legs to ease the tension coiling low in her stomach.
She doesn’t, though, focusing instead on pleasing her alpha.
And Orm knows it’s the right thing to do when she sees Lingling watching her with lust in her eyes that borders on primal, before one of her hands reaches down and grabs Orm’s head, fingers threading through her hair and holding her steady as Lingling begins to fuck Orm’s mouth instead of the other way around.
Orm lets her. She relaxes so her body will loosen up, mouth opening wider to accommodate Lingling’s length sliding in and out of her mouth and the back of her throat, tongue darting out once in a while to lick at whatever sensitive skin she can reach.
Lingling watches Orm with open lust and want on her face, her lips parted, her bergamot and vanilla scent becoming spicier and more intoxicating the longer Orm tongues at and sucks her cock.
Lingling’s breathing turns ragged as she continues to fuck Orm’s mouth without any care for anything but her own selfish pleasure, sliding in and out and making Orm gag occasionally.
The sound only spurs Lingling more, makes her greedier.
Still, Orm doesn’t stop Lingling. She keeps her gaze on Lingling’s face the whole time, mouth open and relaxed, hoping she sees the submission in Orm’s eyes and hears the thoughts screaming in Orm’s head.
Thoughts like—
“Fuck my mouth.”
“Come down in my throat.”
“Let me feel you everywhere until I’m nothing but yours.”
When Lingling’s hips stutter, Orm knows she’s close. And so she pulls away just enough to murmur, “Come in my mouth. Then on me,” before she seals her lips around Lingling’s cockhead again.
That’s enough to trigger Lingling’s orgasm, and she dutifully comes inside Orm’s mouth with a growl, her cum sliding hotly down Orm’s throat, her taste and scent merging until Orm can’t taste and smell anything but Lingling, Lingling, Lingling.
But then Lingling is pulling away harshly, her cock sliding out of Orm’s mouth despite Orm’s efforts of keeping her inside.
Orm is just about to protest and whine at the devastating loss when Lingling finally pulls back—only for her to continue coming on Orm’s face this time, the rest of her cum spurting out of the tip and landing on Orm’s cheek and chin—hot and heavy and sticky.
Orm comes. Untouched. Unexpectedly.
She doesn’t even feel the tension in her body snapping until a flood of pleasure surges through her, her cunt clenching around nothing, absolutely missing the snug and warm feel of Lingling’s cock inside as slick drips down from her entrance.
They’re still both gasping for breath when Orm comes around, her mind blank except for the need to feel Lingling inside her again to ease the heat underneath her skin and lessen the emptiness she feels without her.
Orm is entering a sympathy heat, alright.
But she doesn’t care.
She can’t—not when Lingling is watching her with equal lust and devotion, eyes locked in on the cum still staining Orm’s skin.
Without another word, Lingling moves away from Orm’s face, only to lean back down to lick her own cum off Orm.
They both moan as Lingling’s tongue darts out to clean Orm’s face, the action lewd and only furthering Orm’s need to be fucking bred right now.
“Not as good when I lick it off your pussy,” Lingling quips once she pulls away, tongue licking the remnants of cum on her lips.
Orm’s gaze is drawn to the movement, her body locking up as if bracing itself for impact. She still doesn’t move when Lingling gets to her feet, rising to her full height, her cock still standing tall and angry red at the tip even after the two orgasms she just had.
Orm knows it won’t deflate until Lingling knots her.
The thought sends a thrill through Orm.
“Get up. I’m fucking you from behind,” Lingling barks, no gentleness, no love. Nothing but unrestrained want.
It makes Orm gush, and she’s sure their couch will need a replacement by the end of the week.
Orm moves on weak knees, draping herself on the arm of the couch and presenting her ass to Lingling, who dutifully follows her, grips Orm by the hips, and lines up her cock to her entrance once Orm is in position.
Lingling enters her with no warning, and Orm cries out at the feeling of finally being full again, her pussy walls fluttering as if to welcome back Lingling’s cock.
“You’re such a slutty omega,” Lingling groans behind her, thrusts hard and even. “Coming untouched just because of my cum on you.”
Orm can only moan out in response. She can’t think of anything else but how good it feels to have Lingling sliding in and out of her cunt with each thrust accompanied by a low grunt, the heat underneath her skin somewhat receding the more she’s fucked into the couch.
Lingling continues, “Is filling your pussy with my cum not enough, Orm? Do you want me to come all over you, too?”
“I need you to breed me,” Orm admits, the words mindless now. Her mind only knows pleasure and the feeling of Lingling’s veiny cock touching her in places no one else ever has. “I want you inside me forever.”
Lingling responds with a growl, and before Orm knows it, she’s being maneuvered away from the arm of the couch, her body being manhandled as Lingling settles down on the sofa and practically lifts Orm’s body until she’s straddling Lingling.
No words are exchanged as Lingling holds her cock steady with one hand while the other helps Orm sink down on her shaft inch by excruciating inch until she’s fully seated inside Orm, the new position hitting Orm’s deepest parts.
“Fuck,” Orm whimpers at the same time she drops her head on Lingling’s shoulder, breathing ragged.
“Ride me like the slut that you are,” Lingling instructs, and Orm’s body complies without thought.
Her hips move slowly at first, a little languid while she finds her pace.
Of course, Lingling doesn’t let that happen for too long.
Her fingers dig into the flesh of Orm’s hips. Then, Lingling lifts Orm up before dropping her back down at the same time she lifts her hips upwards, and it’s enough for Orm to scream out in pure, unadulterated pleasure, her body convulsing as she comes unexpectedly, her heat taking over her biology now.
That only invites Lingling to continue rutting up into Orm, ruthless and rough, filthy words slipping past her lips at every thrust, strokes still steady and firm despite Orm’s walls gripping her shaft at every up and downstroke.
“You’re such a needy omega, Orm.”
“Your pussy is so tight like this. God, I love fucking you.”
“I’m gonna breed and knot you, Ling. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Your pussy is made for me, Orm.”
“You’re mine. Only mine.”
The tension in Orm’s stomach coils tighter and tighter with every statement until it eventually snaps, and Orm comes on Lingling’s cock, her mouth blubbering nonsense as Lingling continues to fuck her until her knot slips inside, binding them together.
Lingling comes inside Orm with a low, feral growl and a bite on Orm’s shoulder this time, and it’s enough to coax another orgasm from Orm, which effectively knocks her out, satisfied and full of cum.
When Orm comes around, she’s in their bed, her body sore and her skin hot and slicked with sweat (or cum, she isn’t sure), and there’s a purring sound coming from her midsection.
Orm blinks her eyes, raising one hand to rub away the exhaustion and sleep from them, before she lifts her head a little to check what’s going on.
She sees Lingling at her stomach, nosing at the skin and flesh there, purring like a cat sitting satisfied on top of a warm surface. One of Lingling’s hands is softly gliding over Orm’s naked thigh, while the other aids Lingling in exploring Orm’s stomach.
Not like there’s much to explore there.
Orm blinks again, wondering if she’s still asleep, and this is a hallucination caused by her heat fever. “Lingling, baby?” she tries, her voice raspy from sleep.
Lingling looks up at the call of her name, and she meets Orm’s eyes, her gaze no less feral.
If anything, she looks more rabid now, like touching Orm like that only heightened her need to mark and claim.
“You’d look so good pregnant with my pups.”
The words trigger something in Orm.
Sure, it’s not like it’s the first time Lingling has said those words, but it’s as if Orm’s sympathy heat has unlocked something primitive in her—something her inner omega deeply yearns for.
Orm’s mind floods with images of her belly swollen with Lingling’s child, of a pup that looks exactly just like Lingling, of a child running around a house and carrying Lingling’s eyes and features and Orm’s personality.
They make Orm’s scent spike with arousal again, her body remembering she’s in heat, and Lingling takes note immediately.
A smile slowly forms across Lingling’s lips while she moves up Orm’s body, laving her skin with kisses and nips, adding to the forming bruises all over Orm's torso and chest.
When Lingling reaches Orm’s face, her breathing is uneven, cock straining again, pulsing against Orm’s lower belly.
“Let me fuck you until I’ve got nothing left to give,” Lingling whispers right against Orm’s lips, her scent of bergamot and vanilla overwhelming every sense Orm has. She’s looking at Orm like she wants to devour and consume her, to never let her go. “Let me fuck you until you’re all mine.”
And Orm, driven by her own heat and lust, can only nod her assent. “Do it. I don’t know how to be anything else but yours, anyway.”
They don’t leave their apartment for seven days, and by the time Lingling’s rut finishes, and Orm’s heat-induced fever finally breaks, their apartment is in a disarray, their combined scents filling the place—spicy, musky, and heady—and Orm can’t walk without a whimper of pain.
It’s worth it.
And she’ll definitely do it again.
Next time, Orm might let Lingling give her a mating bite, too.