Alpha Dom: Caden: M/M Mpreg Romance
I first became aware of warmth. A warm body was entangled with mine. That smell was familiar…
My body responded before my mind did, my cock hardening. I could already feel the dampness at the tip, precum wetting the fabric of my boxers.
Every nerve was alive where Oliver’s skin met mine. I nestled my nose into his neck, taking in a deep breath of his scent, which flooded through me like smoke, pulling me deeper into the core of pleasure glowing inside me.
I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but he whimpered slightly, wrapped in my arms, and my cock surged to full hardness, pressing insistently against Oliver’s ass.
I tentatively reached down, then teasingly, until I could grip Oliver’s cock firmly in my fist. He was naked.
Now I wasn’t imagining it. He was whimpering softly, and I felt his own wetness with my thumb as I slowly started to rub circles on his cock.
“Oh, hello,” I said into his ear.
I couldn’t tell where he began and I ended. The blanket covered us both in warmth.
But he was still shivering against me, just slightly.
When I pumped his cock ever so slowly, he shivered even more. His ass rubbed against my own cock, which was approaching a torturous level of arousal.
I couldn’t concentrate on him when he was doing that.
“Stay still,” I said firmly. “If you don’t…”
He knew what I’d do.
He took a deep breath and stayed perfectly still. Well, no, not perfectly. I could still feel him, as entwined with him as I was. But we could work on that later.
But he was being good. My Oliver, trying his best.
“Good boy,” I whispered.
I felt him relax slightly against me. Some tension inside him was released, and he was calmer.
A deep satisfaction rolled through my body when he did that. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Contentment? A sense that all was right with the world?
I slowly continued to pump his cock, using his precum to rub my thumb around the head. Oliver’s breathing was ragged, but he was as motionless as he could be.
Maybe this was too easy for him.
I started kissing his shoulder, swirling my tongue in little patterns on his skin. When his breathing got faster, I increased the speed at which I stroked his cock.
He twitched, a frisson traveling up his spine.
“That’s one,” I said. I wasn’t disappointed, though. A large part of me was immensely pleased that the count had been started.
When I bit his shoulder suddenly, he jerked.
“That’s two,” I added. “What happened? I thought you were trying to be good?”
He whimpered again.
My cock twitched violently. If he didn’t stop that, I’d spill myself right now. He was just too arousing.
“Use your words or be quiet,” I said.
“Y-Yes, sir,” he said breathily. “I’m s-sorry, sir.”
I kissed his cheek softly. “You’re going to be good for me, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, and his voice was more relaxed. He was calm again, and the whole time I’d been stroking his cock, even as he fought to avoid bucking his hips into my hand.
I buried my nose in his hair and took in his warm, sleepy scent, wondering what I’d done to deserve someone like Oliver…
* * *
When I sat down to dinner that evening before heading to the bar, I thought about the dream I’d had this morning. I thought about Oliver frequently, largely because I hadn’t dated seriously in years, and he had been, after all, one of my best friends growing up. He was the one who filled my fantasies most often, and I often wondered if I’d ever see him again.
I guessed not. Not while he was wrapped up with that horrible abusive husband of his. They had a kid together, I’d heard, so I knew there was no way Oliver was getting out of that situation without help.
I often hoped he would be okay, knowing that I could take care of him better than that asshole ever could.
My sleek black driverless car glided down to a stop outside the bar. My manager, Courtney, had already opened earlier, and I could hear the sounds of a party in full swing emanating from further inside.
The bar was my pride and joy. I’d worked so hard over the past decade to bring my dream to real life and with the help of some of my closest friends, I’d managed to do it. The bar had been going strong for a few years already, and had an awesome core group of regulars.
There was a back entrance, but I liked coming in the front so I could say hi to everyone. I walked through the front door and said hi to the bouncer working that night, Stephen. He opened the door for me and I entered a dark corridor. I’d thought a lot about the experience of a visitor to the bar, and I liked the idea of disorienting them a little at first, to help them drop the persona they brought in from outside and step into something different.
The room the corridor opened into was a neutral space, where the music was quieter, snacks and drinks were on offer, and a handful of my staff stuck around to make sure people were alright.
That didn’t mean the room was totally vanilla, though. Most of the people there were partially nude, and no one was in what you could call “normal” streetwear. Leather straps and black lace were common, with occasional guests sporting something like a feathered mask. Sometimes the bar threw themed events, and the costumes became truly extravagant then.
I was looking for Courtney. I always checked in with her, or her weekend counterpart, Sydney, when I arrived every night. My staff kept the place smoothly run, though the clientele tended to be conscientious people who didn’t cause much trouble for them.
It was still a little early in the night, so people weren’t playing much yet, though I could detect heavy sexual tension in the air. My own cock twitched when I heard a gasp coming from a couple on a couch and I let out a laugh, amused yet again by how my own workplace turned me on every day.
“Hey,” came a voice from behind me, and I turned to see Courtney. “Everything’s good tonight. Annie was sick so Deb’s covering for her, but nothing else to note.”
“Awesome,” I said, nodding. She really was a gem.
“How about you? Taking the night easy?” she said with a sly grin.
I smiled back at her, though I didn’t feel as lighthearted as I looked. “I… Yeah, I guess,” I said, my brain flooded by my earlier thoughts of Oliver.
God, I missed him. Why had my feelings returned so strongly now, of all times?
Courtney nodded knowingly. “You’ve got that heartsick look,” she commented. “I know it when I see it.”
I sighed. “You got me.” I looked around at all the couples (and threesomes and… well, you get the idea) around me, and Courtney followed my gaze. She knew it wasn’t just sex I was looking for. It wasn’t hard for me to find that.
She reached a hand out and placed it comfortingly on my arm. “You’ll find someone,” she said. “Hell, if you were into ladies I’d date you.”
I laughed. Courtney was gorgeous—though not my type at all, obviously—and that did make me feel one iota better.
“Let’s make a pact then,” I said. “If neither of us gets married by age forty, let’s do it and raise kids together.”
She nodded and took my hand to shake it. “Deal.”
“Courtney? Can you help me with this box?” came a voice from behind the bar.
My manager shot me a quick smile before dashing off to help the barback.
That was one blessing, at least. My life was full of good people I considered family, as well as my own family. I ran this club with my best friend Archer, and we’d grown a wonderful community.
I just wished certain people from my past could be here.
I yearned for a submissive omega to hold and protect and guide. Even though the people around me were engaged in what looked to be painful and intense activities, there was so much more to kink than that. Or at least, there could be.
I wanted a submissive to cherish, someone to spin fantasies for, to delight with sensations pleasurable and painful. I wanted so much to give all that to someone. To the right person. But since I’d known Oliver, no one seemed like they fit.
Sure, I’d played with all kinds of omegas during my time in the scene. Some better than others. But no one hit that note deep in my heart, the one that would tell me when I found a man strong enough to challenge me and take what I wanted to give him. Not just physically, but emotionally as well.
I sighed and continued walking through the club, greeting friends as I went. I didn’t know where I was going. I supposed I just wanted to take it all in, make sure everyone was having a good time, even if I wasn’t.
I stopped at a scene which had a few spectators and watched a submissive on an X-frame get teased. The frame was simply a metal structure to which the submissive was tied spread-eagled with cuffs. He was completely helpless.
His dominant ran light fingers down his chest, trailing them around his sides, then down to his ass and his thighs, skipping, of course, the one place that wanted the most attention.
The submissive’s cock twitched and bobbed, and his moans were like sweet music. His face was flushed and his hair matted to his forehead with sweat.
When the dom moved his hands closer to the sub’s cock, the sub wriggled, but of course, he couldn’t do much as restrained as he was. I watched him strain against the cuffs as he fought to bring his cock closer to his dom’s hands, and the dom smiled gently and put his lips to the sub’s ear.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I could see the tenderness, the care with which the dom was treating his sub. Every little touch was carefully engineered to bring immense pleasure with a dose of comfort—every touch reminded the sub that he wasn’t alone, that his dom was here.
A wave of emotion rolled through me and I walked away, wandering through another dark corridor of my club. Maybe I needed to stop hanging out here if it was just going to keep making me sad.
“Hey, man,” came a voice, and Archer put his hand on my shoulder, swinging me around to face him. “I just got back from my trip. First stop was here, obviously.”
I smiled and pulled him in for a hug. I was glad to see my best friend—maybe that was partially why I was feeling so down.
“How was it?” I asked. “You look chipper.”
“Not so bad,” he said, shrugging. “We made a deal with the Dominion Territory Municipal Water Company and toured their new facility. Nothing you’d be too interested in.”
He was right; it really wasn’t very interesting what he did for work, but I still wanted to hear about it because he was my friend. The water supply of the entire territory was also incredibly important work, and since Archer had gotten a promotion they sent him on more of these trips.
“Well, I’m sure you took some time for sightseeing as you always do,” I said, “so I’m definitely down to hear about that.”
Archer laughed, and I could feel his high spirits rubbing off on me.
“But what about you, man? You look bummed. Another omega reject you?” he joked.
“Nah,” I said, with yet another sigh. “Is it that obvious?”
“No,” said Archer bluntly. “That’s what best friends are for. You wanna talk about it?”
“Sure,” I said. I couldn’t be depressed all night, and Archer would understand. He hadn’t known Oliver, but he’d known me for long enough.
He pulled me along to the bar, where my best bartender, Goldie, was working.
Goldie looked like an All-American girl next door, but that stopped at the cascades of golden curls and bright white smile. From the neck down it looked like the woman was completely covered in ink, with elaborate sleeves and patterns extending to her hands and collarbone. And there was just something odd about her. She seemed much wiser and more mature than her apparent age of twenty-three or so.
I liked her a lot. She was always a pleasant, calm presence, and she was amazing at her job. I’d given her free reign on the drinks menu because she was a downright genius when it came to alcohol. The most bizarre thing was that she wasn’t much of a drinker herself.
She was a woman of many mysteries, so she fit right in here at Black Thorn.
“The usual?” she asked me and Archer, already grabbing two glasses.
“Of course,” I said with a smile, taking a seat at the bar with my friend.
Goldie poured rich amber liquid over ice into our glasses and passed them to us. She couldn’t stay to chat, though, because there was another customer already wanting her attention.
“So. Talk,” said Archer.
Archer’s blunt way of getting me to open up was surprisingly effective, and I was used to just spilling it all out to him. “I thought about Oliver this morning,” I said.
Apparently that was all he needed to know, as he nodded in understanding. “In a sexy way?”
“Well, yeah, in a sexy way, but like, I care about him too, wherever he is,” I said, sipping my whiskey. “I just want him so bad. And I’ve tried finding love here, but I don’t know… nothing seems to stick.”
“It sounds like you need to let him go, man,” said Archer. “I know it’s the harsh truth, but… how long has it been?”
“I don’t even know.” It’d been years since I’d seen Oliver. We’d parted ways after high school, and that was a good ten years ago at this point.
“Have you… considered therapy?” asked Archer tentatively.
“Yeah, I’ve considered it.”
I looked away. I didn’t really want to admit that I was scared of what I’d find if I went to therapy. It felt like there was a deep wound in me, one that had grown since Oliver left town. I didn’t want to examine it too closely.
But then, I would probably never move on if I never addressed it.
“I… I guess I should try it,” I said reluctantly.
“That’s my man,” said Archer, clapping me on the shoulder. “It’s worth a try, anyway, you know?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. Anything was worth a try at this point.
Our conversation steered to more mundane topics as we sipped our drinks, but I couldn’t get Archer’s suggestion out of my head. Whether it was with a therapist or not, I needed to confront the fact that Oliver wasn’t coming back, and I might never know what happened to him.
Archer eventually got up to talk to some of our other friends, and I pulled out my phone to idly check my email. Most of it was spam, though one line in particular caught my eye.
“Caden! You have a new connection in your network, Oli…”
My heart skipped a beat.
Oli? As in, Oliver? No way. I clicked on it.
The email was from some job hunting site I never logged into. My heart stuttered when I saw Oliver’s face. I started getting tunnel vision—he was all I could look at.
God, he was beautiful. He looked… happy and healthy, with a brilliant smile, thick hair, sparkling eyes. It was Oliver, but aged ten years since the last I saw him. He was a man now. Handsome, confident…
I could barely tear my eyes away from him but I read the rest of the email. Apparently I had received this as an automatic notification because Oliver was back in the city and looking for a job. I guessed the website thought this was a good way to help people find jobs among their friend groups.
So he was back in Stell and he looked like that? What about the abusive ex? What about his kid? How could this be real?
I had no idea, but I sure as hell was going to find out.