Lanzhan finds himself in need of an Omega when his Nie Country visa application is denied and he's threatened with deportation. His quiet assistant, Weiying, just so happens to have dual citizenship. The problem? Making sure their romance is believa...
Lanzhan leaned down and kissed his inner thigh, breathing in the heady smell of his arousal. He let his fingers skim over his center, not quite daring to slip them between his folds, but Weiying let out a soft whine, a needy sound, his hips lifting off the bed. He bit him soft skin, his cock throbbing.
Lanzhan leaned up to kiss him as his fingers found the bundle of nerves at the apex of his thigh, massaging it. Weiying cried out, him hands grappling against his shoulders, and he slipped his fingers lower, finding him entrance. He slipped inside, curling his finger against him clenching walls, searching for the spot that would make him come undone. Lanzhan knew he found it when his teeth latched onto his shoulder, biting hard.
He pulled back and grabbed the condom from where he’d left it on the duvet, tearing it open with shaking fingers. Weiying’s fingers danced down his chest and abdomen until he tucked his fingers into the waistband of his trunks and tugged them down until his member was freed. He took him in, his lips parting, before he dragged his eyes back up to his face.
Lanzhan slid out of his trunks and rolled the condom on before he settled himself between his thighs, lining himself up with his opening. Weiying’s fingers massaged his shoulders, his chest heaving with light, breathy pants. He pressed a kiss to his lips as he slowly sank inside of him, feeling his warmth wrap around him.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Lanzhan groaned, burying his face into his neck as he pumped into him.
Weiying squeezed his eyes shut, feeling him stretch and fill him. He dug his fingers into his shoulders, biting his lip to try and contain his moans. But it was useless, and soon he was moaning as he thrusted into him, slow and steady at first but then he was picking up the pace, driving into him until he was on the precipice of coming unfurled. he raked him nails down his back, drawing a groan from him, his thrusts faltering for a moment.
This was so new, so unknown. Weiying knew so much about him, but this—this intimate side of him—he didn’t know. He didn’t know what turned him on, what he liked, where to touch and kiss and caress. He was figuring it out, just as he was figuring out what made him tick.
He was doing a damn good job at it, too: Weiying had never been so turned on in his life. But maybe part of that was just his attraction to him. The tension between them had been building up for weeks, and it was finally coming to a head.
Lanzhan thrusted into him, bracing himself on his forearm so that his other hand could cup his breast, kneading it between his fingers. He could feel the pressure building up in his belly and he forced himself to slow down. He couldn’t come yet; not until he did, not until his toes curled and his eyes snapped shut and he cried out his name.
Lanzhan gripped his hip and lifted his waist off the bed, grinding into him. He could feel the tremble in his legs and hear the hitch in his breath, and somehow he knew that he was close.
He tilted his head and brought his mouth to his breast, sucking hard on his nipple. Weiying buried his fingers in his hair, pulling hard, nails scratching against his scalp. his cries became more frantic, his hips bucking against him. Lanzhan released him nipple and gritted his teeth against the hot pleasure coiling tightly in his belly, desperate to hold on.
“Come for me,” he gritted out, burying his face in his neck. His tongue traced a pulsing vein in him throat, soaking in the salt of sweat on him skin. “Come for me, love.”
“I’m close,” Weiying panted, writhing beneath him. “I’m so close.”
He drove harder into him, his hips snapping against him. He was so warm and tight, wrapping around him, clenching and unclenching. His fingers dug into him hip. The headboard slammed against the wall. Sweat dripped down his spine and beaded along his temples but he wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop, until he found him released.
he climaxed hard with a feral scream, him body locking beneath him as his back arched and he threw his head back, stars bursting in his vision as wave after wave of pleasure erupted from the pit of his belly, spreading through his veins until his toes curled in the sheets and his blood pounded in his ears.
Weiying cried out his name, and he felt his hips shudder, his thrusts faltering. His breath caught in his throat and Weiying knew he had followed him right over the edge. Weiying went lax beneath him as the last shivering traces of his orgasm left him, and soon his thrusts came to a halt. He could feel his cock twitching deliciously inside of him, and he ran his hands along his shoulders before he kissed his temple.
Lanzhan lifted his head and pressed his lips to his softly, lingering there as his heart thumped in his chest. He felt a strong sense of elation and adoration come over him, and he pulled back to look him in the eye.
“I love you,” he breathed.
Weiying smiled softly at him. He brought up his hand, and he saw the way that he hesitated, his eyes resting on the back of lanzhan. In all their weeks together, he had never touched his scar, had never even asked. He felt his heart stutter in his chest. He never let anyone touch it. It was so sensitive; not just physically but emotionally. It was a mark of pain, of trauma. But he loved him; Gods, he loved him, and he was willing to open up that part of himself.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can touch it.”
Weiying gently brushed his fingers along the border between the scarred flesh and smooth skin. It was rigid in some places, but glossy and smooth in others. He stroked his thumb beneath his damaged skin, and Lanzhan leaned into his touch. Weiying leaned up and kissed it softly.
“I love you too,” he murmured.
Lanzhan let out a quiet sigh as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. Then he opened his eyes and looked at him. “I’ve never let anyone else touch it, you know.”
Weiying eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”
He laid down beside him, snaking his arm around his waist to pull him against his chest. Weiying slid one leg between his and tucked his head beneath his chin, holding him close.
“I’ve hated it for a long time,” he said quietly. “I hate the man who gave it to me, too.”
“Your father.”
He huffed out a breath. “Yeah.” He brushed his fingers through his hair. “It’s caused me a lot of issues, you know. First, the obvious. Trauma. And insecurities about...about how I look, how others perceive me. So, I just...don’t let people touch it.”
“Thank you,” he said softly. “For opening up that part of yourself to me.”
He kissed the top of his head. “Thank you for accepting all of me.”
“Who would have thought...when you called me half-drunk three months ago that we would end up like this?” Weiying mused, his voice colored with wonder.
He tightened his hold on him. “Not me. But I’d started to hope.”
He pulled back and smiled up at him. “Me too.”
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