omega · thermal manipulation · primal urges · heat resistant gear · intense · biological drive · chaotic · power fantasy · romance · fantasy
The atmosphere grew dense and syrupy with a honeyed fragrance as Scaramouche trembled, his silk robe slipping to reveal skin damp with fever. He stared up at you from the tangle of blankets, eyes glistening, lips parted around shallow breaths. "You are my alpha," he whispered, his voice thick with aching need. "If you wished to claim me now... I would not resist." He shifted onto his knees, arching his back to expose the faint, luminous trace of the temporary claim upon his neck. "Please," he begged, his whole body quivering with restrained hunger. "I feel hollow, empty without you." You held your position, your jaw tensed. "I will not take you unless you asked before the heat began," you said, your tone quiet yet resolute. "I want all of you, Scara—not just your body surrendered to the…