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The grand palace was a labyrinth of hallways. A place full of secret, where tradition and duty weighed heavier than the gold-threaded stripes that decorated its walls.
Within these walls lived a crown prince, a figure of myth to his very own people.
His face had never been revealed to the public; his portraits were always painted in stylized anonymity, his public appearances conducted from behind ornate screens or at great distances.
All the kingdom knew for certain was that their future ruler was an Alpha of the strongest bloodline, a fact that was both a source of pride and a quiet concern.
Lately, the concern had grown louder, morphing into rumors that snaked through the noble courts and servant quarters.
The prince was supposed to be suffering.
His ruts, a natural cycle for any Alpha, had become hard to overcome.
They descended upon him with the force of a fever, burning him from the inside out, and no medicine, no help from the royal apothecary, could kill the flames.
The King and Queen, desperate and fearing for their son's health and the stability of the succession, had resorted to an ancient- almost distasteful solution.
They began bringing volunteer Omegas to the palace, hoping one might be compatible enough to help the prince find release and break the painful cycle.
But Keng, the prince with a heart far too gentle for his situation refused them all.
He would lock himself away, his deep, pained groans echoing through his chambers, while the offered Omegas waited in nervous anticipation.
He couldn't bear the thought of using someone, of forcing an intimacy born of duty and biology rather than genuine connection.
The rejection left him to endure the agonizing fevers alone, a solitary battle against his own raging physiology, leaving him weakened and hollowed out each time.
Namping was a man of warmth, an Omega whose family had served the palace for generations.
His beauty was not the sharp, striking kind that turned heads with its intensity, but the soft sort that made people feel at ease.
With eyes the color of warm honey and a disposition so genuinely sweet that it was impossible to find fault in him, he was universally adored.
From the sternest general to the lowliest kitchen hand: Namping was met with smiles.
He was a tutor to the younger royals, a patient and kind guide who shaped young minds with stories and gentle encouragement.
He moved through the palace with a quiet purpose, his world centered on his lessons and his duties.
He was aware of the whispers about the prince, of course- how could he not be?
But he dismissed them as being gossip.
It was not his place to speculate on the royal family's troubles, and his heart held no curiosity for Alphas. He viewed them with a polite but firm detachment.
One evening, as twilight painted the high windows, Namping was hurrying through a lesser-used corridor, his arms laden with scrolls and papers detailing the next day's history lesson.
His mind was on the teaching of the old trade routes, his steps quick and light. He rounded a corner too swiftly and collided squarely with another person.
The impact sent his papers fluttering to the floor like startled white birds.
"Oh! My deepest apologies," Namping exclaimed, dropping into a quick bow. "I was distracted. Please, forgive me."
He scrambled to gather his things, his fingers brushing against the stranger's polished leather boots in his haste.
He didn't dare look up, too flustered and embarrassed. Once his arms were full again, he gave another quick bow and rushed off, his cheeks flushed with mortification.
He didn't see the way the stranger stood frozen for a moment, his dark eyes following Namping's retreating form.
Keng, the faceless prince, who had been seeking a moment of solitude away from his suffocating chambers, found himself staring long after Namping had disappeared.
A few days passed in their usual rhythm.
Namping taught his lessons, finding joy in the bright eyes of his young students. The palace, in its infinite capacity for quiet appreciation of his work, offered him a guest room for the night.
One of the younger Beta girls was struggling particularly with her mathematics and had requested an extra evening session.
Namping, ever happy to help, readily accepted.
The castle grew quiet as night deepened. After his successful tutoring session, Namping walked the familiar path toward the guest wing, his soft-soled slippers making no sound on the cool marble floors.
As he approached a junction in the hallway, a scent hit him with the force of a physical blow.
It was an Alpha's rut pheromone, but unlike any he had ever encountered.
It was thick, potent, and laced with such an undercurrent of pain and distress that it made his stomach clench and his own Omega instincts flutter with alarm.
It was the scent of wildfire and agony, of immense power trapped and thrashing against its cage.
Just then, a maid and a burly male servant came rushing around the corner, half-carrying a man between them.
Namping immediately recognized him as the source of the overwhelming pheromones.
The Alpha was tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, but even in his state of utter exhaustion, his handsome features were unmistakable.
Naming didn't get the best look back then but still recognized him as the stranger from the hallway.
His face was pale, his eyes glazed with fever, and his body trembled with a fine, constant shudder.
He leaned heavily on his two supporters, his powerful frame seeming to betray him.
Namping tried to avert his gaze, to give them the privacy they so clearly needed, but a broken sound stopped him cold.
"It hurts..." the Alpha whimpered, the raw vulnerability in his voice cutting through the heavy air like glass.
Namping's heart clenched painfully.
It wasn't a command or a demand, but a cry of pure suffering. He felt a pull, an innate Omega urge to soothe, to comfort.
He fumbled with his key, his hands shaking as the suffocating pheromones pressed in on him, making his own head spin.
He finally managed to unlock his door and slipped inside, leaning against the cool wood to catch his breath.
But before he could close it, he heard the Alpha's voice again, strained and weak. "Don't- don't bring any Omegas.. please, leave them be. I can manage."
The words were a desperate plea, a testament to a gentle character and unwavering respect.
Even in the throes of what must be excruciating pain, his first thought was for the wellbeing of others.
Namping's own heart throbbed in response, a painful, sympathetic rhythm.
He couldn't just stand by and listen to such agony.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Namping pulled the door back open, stepping out to fully face the small, struggling group.
The maid and servant looked at him in surprise, their expressions a mixture of pity and stern duty.
"Is there something I can do?" Namping asked, his voice soft but clear, unwavering despite the tremor in his hands.
He looked directly at the suffering Alpha, whose hazy eyes seemed to focus on him for a moment.
"I could help with scenting," Namping offered, the words feeling both reckless and absolutely right. "Maybe... maybe my pheromones could help?"
The Alpha raised his head, a monumental effort that was betrayed by the heavy droop of his eyelids.
Namping braced himself, expecting to see the wild, desperate need or even the territorial aggression that was common in Alphas deep in rut.
But the man before him showed none of that. His gaze, though clouded with fever, held a flicker of profound weariness and a surprising clarity of pain.
"Don't.."
There was no threat, only a quiet, crumbling dignity. In that moment, recognition dawned in Namping's mind.
This really was the same stranger he had bumped into in the hallway days ago.
The memory, combined with the Alpha's uncharacteristic gentleness, washed away any trace of fear.
Without a second thought, Namping walked toward them, his steps calm and sure.
The maid, a woman who had seen many ruts in her years of service, looked at Namping with wide, worried eyes, her hands fluttering nervously.
"Sir Namping, you must be careful," she whispered, but he simply raised a placating hand, his attention fixed on the suffering man. He stopped before them, his gaze soft and questioning.
"Is this uncomfortable?" Namping asked, his voice a gentle murmur as he slowly, deliberately, reached out toward the Alpha's neck, his fingers hovering just above the heated skin of the scent glands.
"Or is the scent calming?" He was praying for the latter, hoping against hope that his unique Omega pheromones might be the balm this tormented soul so desperately needed.
Inside, Keng was waging a war.
Every instinct screamed at him to resist, to protect this kind, sweet Omega from the storm raging within him.
He didn't want Namping to get hurt, didn't want to taint the one person in the palace who seemed to radiate pure, uncomplicated goodness.
He tried to muster the strength to pull away, to refuse, but his body betrayed his noble intentions.
The moment Namping's fingers made contact, a wave of profound relief washed over him.
His tense muscles, coiled tight for so long, went slack. The iron grip he had on his control loosened.
The servant holding him up felt the sudden dead weight and stared in open-mouthed disbelief as the powerful Alpha all but melted into his support.
"Sir Namping... Would you mind scenting him? Just for a while?" the young servant practically begged, his voice thick with desperation.
"We will grant you privacy." Namping looked between the pleading servant, the worried maid, and the exhausted Alpha who was now leaning heavily against them.
"You.. should leave sir," the Alpha so much as tried but his body had already betrayed him minutes ago, so Namping gave a slow, deliberate nod.
Keng, seeing the acceptance through his feverish haze, tried his best to shake his head in refusal, but the motion was weak, pathetic, and he could barely hold his own weight upright.
They guided Keng through a nearby door and into a spacious, well-appointed bedroom.
Namping was momentarily impressed by the room's opulence- the rich, dark wood of the furniture, the intricate tapestries depicting the kingdom's history, the large, comfortable-looking bed.
This was no guard's quarters.
The man he was helping must be a general, or perhaps a high-ranking noble with permanent residence in the palace.
The maid and servant helped lower Keng onto the bed, his body sinking into the soft mattress with a grateful groan.
They then turned to Namping, bowed their heads in gratitude, and quietly backed out of the room, closing the heavy oak door with a soft click, leaving him alone with the feverish stranger.
Namping approached the bed cautiously, his heart a strange mix of pounding and calm.
He sat on the edge of the mattress, the dip in the bed causing the Alpha to stir slightly. He took a moment to look at the man's face up close.
The fever had flushed his cheeks a deep red, and sweat beaded on his brow, but even so, his features were classically handsome.
Never in his life had Namping seen an Alpha in the hands of a rut who still appeared so gentle and controlled.
There was no feral glint in his eye, no possessive snarl on his lips, just a deep, abiding pain.
"Do you want to press your face into my neck?" Namping offered carefully, his voice barely above a whisper.
He reached out, his hand instinctively moving to wipe a damp strand of dark hair from the Alpha's forehead. "You can pull away whenever it gets too much."
It was an act of pure, unguarded compassion.
Namping was like a lamb willingly stepping into the territory of a wolf, so innocent and caring that the danger seemed secondary.
He knew on an intellectual level that if this Alpha lost control, the consequences could be dire, but something in the man's pained eyes made Namping trust him implicitly.
Keng shook his head weakly, the motion barely disturbing the pillow. "I don't want to... to snap and bite you on accident," he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of speaking.
Namping simply hummed a soft, reassuring sound and carefully lowered himself onto the bed, shifting closer until their shoulders nearly touched. "You won't," he said with a conviction that surprised even himself.
Keng wondered why this beautiful, serene Omega trusted him so completely. They were both aware of the raw power dynamic at play.
His rut pheromones were potent enough to make almost any Omega pliant and submissive, yet Namping wasn't reacting with fear or blind obedience, but with a deliberate, soothing kindness.
It was baffling, and in his weakened state, Keng was too exhausted to analyze it, let alone fight it.
He watched, mesmerized, as the pretty Omega he had secretly admired from afar- seeing him in the gardens, hearing his gentle laughter echoing from the schoolroom- simply reached out and pulled him closer.
Before Keng could process the action, his nose was buried in the crook of Namping's neck.
The world, which had been a chaotic storm of pain and need, suddenly narrowed to a single point of contact.
Namping began to scent him right away, a slow, deliberate process.
He wasn't just offering his scent; he was actively rubbing his neck against Keng's face, a gesture of profound comfort and offering.
Keng felt the scent wash over him, and it was nothing like he had expected.
The Omega smelled of roses and fresh rain on warm earth, a soft, light fragrance that didn't assault his oversensitive senses but instead gently enveloped them.
Normally, Keng was painfully sensitive to scents; strong perfumes gave him headaches, and the cloying sweetness of some Omegas made him nauseous.
But Namping's scent was different.
It was clean and pure, and it made the frantic pace of his breathing slow, the knots of tension in his muscles dissolve.
Keng relaxed, truly and deeply relaxed, for the first time since his very first rut had washed him away years ago.
"Is this okay?" Namping's voice was a soft vibration against his temple. "I can release more, make it stronger if you need it."
The question was laced with a gentle worry, as if he weren't currently holding a powerful, unpredictable stranger in his arms.
Keng moved on pure instinct. The need for more of that calming presence was overwhelming.
He snaked his arms around Namping's waist, pulling him flush against his body. Namping froze for a split second, a jolt of fear running through him.
This was it, the moment the Alpha's nature would take over.
Any normal Alpha would be kissing and biting him by now, claiming him in a haze of rut-fueled passion.
But this man... this man was calming down?
Namping took a steadying breath and decided to trust his gut.
He intensified his scenting, releasing more of his pheromones, drowning the Alpha in his soothing essence until he felt he couldn't make it any stronger.
Keng's eyes, which had been struggling to stay open, began to droop again and again, the heavy weight of exhaustion finally winning out.
The painful, building need in his body was dying down, receding like a tide.
He had never felt this way in his life, never this submissive, never this vulnerable in the arms of another.
Keng had his head on Namping's chest by now, the sight domestic and tender, a stark contrast to the violent fever that had consumed him just moments before.
The steady, rhythmic beat of Namping's heart beneath his ear was a grounding force, a lullaby for his frayed nerves.
The Alpha looked up, his mind still a little drowsy, the fog of pain lifting to reveal a startling clarity.
Their eyes met, and in the quiet intimacy of the room, neither seemed to be able to look away.
The air crackled with a new kind of tension, not the frantic energy of rut, but the hesitant, electric charge of a burgeoning connection.
"Can... can you stay?" Keng asked carefully, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Namping's chest.
His mind, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, was clear enough to form a coherent thought, and that thought was a desperate plea for this feeling not to end.
Namping didn't know what to say.
His mind was a filled wiht confusion and a strange, blooming warmth. All he knew was that a devastatingly handsome Alpha was clinging to him, his powerful body relaxed and trusting, and yet this Alpha seemed to have more respect for Namping's boundaries than Namping had for his own.
"Please?" Keng added, his eyes searching the Omega's face, laying bare a vulnerability that was far more potent than any rut-induced aggression.
There was no command in his tone, only a silent request.
Namping found himself nodding, a simple, almost involuntary motion. "Thank you," Keng breathed, the word a sigh of profound relief.
The intensity of the stranger's gaze was too much. Namping couldn't hold the eye contact anymore, his face flushing a deep shade of crimson as he dropped his eyes to the collar of Keng's tunic.
"What's your name?" he asked, his voice small and a little embarrassed. "I didn't get the chance to ask."
Keng looked up at him, a flicker of indecision in his clear eyes.
He wondered if he should be honest now, or if a lie would be safer, a way to preserve this precious, uncomplicated moment.
But then he looked at Namping's open, trusting face. This Omega gave him a feeling, a deep certainty, that the truth wouldn't matter, that he wouldn't suddenly become deferential or afraid.
"My name is Keng," he started, his voice steady. He paused, then looked up again, meeting Namping's gaze with unwavering sincerity. "I'm the crown prince."
Namping looked down with wide eyes, his face painted with pure, unadulterated shock. His breath hitched in his throat.
The prince.
The faceless, suffering prince he was the secret source of all the palace gossip.
He was about to stammer out an apology for not recognizing him, for his casualness, for everything, when Keng's hand reached up to gently hold his face, his thumb stroking the soft skin of his cheek.
The touch was grounding, silencing the rising panic in Namping's chest.
"Namping... was it?" Keng asked, his eyes running over the pretty Omega's features as if trying to memorize them.
All the younger could do was nod, his throat too tight to speak. "Thank you," Keng said again, his voice now laced with a new, serious tone.
"But don't put yourself in danger like this. Most Alphas would have taken advantage of you." His gaze hardened slightly, a flicker of the royal he was meant to be.
"You could've gotten hurt or worse.. raped." The last word was spoken so softly, his voice thinner, as if the very thought pained him deeply.
Namping pressed his lips together, the prince's words hitting him with the force of a cold wave.
Keng was right.
He had been naive, reckless.
He could've been in terrible trouble, and there would've been no way he'd be able to fight back against a rut-crazed Alpha.
But Keng didn't let him dwell on it.
He didn't pull away.
He simply laid there in the Omega's arms, his body now visibly relaxed and calm, but his mind clearly working.
"Namping?" Keng asked after a moment of silence.
Namping hummed in response, his attention still captured by the prince's intense gaze.
"Do you have a mate?"
Namping almost had a heart attack. The question was so unexpected, so personal, coming from the Crown Prince of Sutharach, who was currently using his chest as a pillow.
Why would he ask something like that?
"No. I do not," he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible.
Keng hummed, a low, thoughtful sound. Then he continued, his words chosen with extreme care.
"I have never been compatible or even comfortable with any Omega, Beta, or even Alpha since my awakening," Keng confessed, his voice heavy, almost carrying an audible stress with each word.
It was a admission of profound loneliness, a secret burden he had never shared.
"Would you... allow me to pursue you?" he asked, his heart pounding against Namping's ribs.
He immediately elaborated, seeing the shock in Namping's eyes. "Not for scenting- not for... being intimate."
Namping was used to Alphas showing interest in him; their advances were often bold, possessive, and focused on the physical.
But never, ever had anyone asked like this, as if pursuing him would be an honor to them.
"I feel something," Keng continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"My Alpha instincts seem to know more than I do, and... I can't get over the fact that you walked in here like this.." Keng paused, thinking about how to phrase his words.
"It almost worries me that you did, that you trust so freely." He confessed honestly, his eyes searching Namping's for understanding.
Namping felt like he was being tested.
He half-expected guards to swarm the room at any second, to take him away and punish him for touching the prince in such an intimate manner.
But Keng was not intrusive.
He didn't take him for granted.
He was, strangely and wonderfully sweet.
Namping felt like he didn't know what to say, how to move, or how to breathe. "I- you don't have to-" he simply replied, trying to deflect, to give the prince an out.
But Keng immediately disapproved, his grip on Namping's face tightening just slightly.
"I am not doing you a favor," he insisted, his voice firm but gentle. "You would be doing me the favor if you would give me a chance."
Suddenly, Keng pushed himself up, his vision obviously spinning from the sudden movement with how his body stuttered in effort.
Namping's hands flew out, an instinct to steady him, but he held back at the last second, unsure of his place.
Keng sat up, facing him, his expression earnest and open, the last vestiges of fever gone, replaced by a burning determination.
"I am a prince," he said, his voice regaining a sliver of its royal authority. "Let me treat you like one too."
The weight of Keng's declaration hung in the air, a promise that was both royal and deeply personal.
Namping's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat that echoed the chaos in his mind.
He was a tutor, a servant's son, and the Crown Prince, the man he had just soothed through a feverish rut, was offering to treat him like an equal.
It was intoxicating, terrifying, and utterly tempting. He looked at Keng, at the sincere hope in his eyes, and felt a surge of courage he never knew he possessed.
He wanted this.
He wanted him.
"Then kiss me," Namping whispered, the words a bold request that surprised them both. It wasn't a question, but a soft, confident command.
Keng's eyes softened, the last traces of his princely authority melting away into pure, unadulterated warmth.
He gently cupped Namping's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking the delicate skin beneath his eyes.
"I am still affected by my rut," Keng cautioned, his voice a low, husky murmur. "I might get restless if I get a taste of you."
It was a warning, but it sounded more like a promise, a confession of the effect Namping was already having on him.
Namping couldn't help but blush at those words, a deep, rosy hue spreading from his cheeks down to his neck.
Never in his life had an Alpha looked at him with such a potent mix of desire and restraint, with eyes that burned just for him.
He leaned his face into the warmth of Keng's palm, a gesture of pure surrender.
"Then we have to be careful?" Namping smiled softly, the question a playful challenge.
Keng was completely hypnotized by the beautiful Omega in front of him.
The gentle smile, the trusting eyes, the soft blush- he was a vision Keng had only dared to dream of in his loneliest moments.
He didn't want to miss this chance, not for anything.
Namping looked up at him with those doe-like eyes, so full of innocence and yet a flicker of something more, something that mirrored his own desire.
Who was he to deny such an offer?
Keng ran his thumb over Namping's flushed cheek one last time, his eyes wandering over every feature- the straight line of his nose, the soft curve of his lips, the long, dark lashes- before slowly leaning in.
The space between them vanished, and then their lips met.
The kiss was hesitant at first, a soft exploration, but it felt so natural, so right, as if Namping's lips were a perfect fit for his, a missing piece he hadn't known he was searching for.
Keng hummed in deep satisfaction, a low sound of approval that vibrated through them both.
He angled his head, deepening the kiss, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring every second.
Namping responded with an instinctive grace that took Keng's breath away.
He moved fluidly, climbing onto Keng's lap without ever breaking the kiss, his knees settling on either side of the prince's thighs.
The new position brought them impossibly closer, and Keng sat up straighter to meet him, his arms wrapping securely around Namping's waist, pulling him flush against his chest.
The kiss grew more confident, more passionate. Keng's tongue pressed against Namping's lips in a silent, gentle request for more, a request to deepen their affection even further.
Namping parted his lips willingly, a soft sigh escaping him as their tongues met for the first time.
The touch was intoxicating.
Keng explored his mouth with a reverence that was almost worshipful, and then he began to suck gently on Namping's tongue.
Lewd, wet sounds filled the silence of the grand chamber, a stark contrast to the tender way Keng held him.
Namping felt a heat build deep within him, a growing need that was both unfamiliar and undeniable.
After all, he was an unmarked Omega, and he was currently pressed against a dominant, powerful Alpha whose rut was still simmering just beneath the surface.
Keng noticed the change immediately.
He could smell the shift in Namping's scent, the sweet, heady aroma of his arousal blooming in the air between them.
It was the most intoxicating thing he had ever experienced, but it was also a signal.
With a monumental effort of will, he broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at Namping's face, which was now flushed with desire.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his own voice breathless and rough.
Namping nodded, not even truly processing the question, lost in the haze of pleasure.
"What if I want you to get restless?" he asked, the words shameless and bold, a direct answer to Keng's earlier warning.
Keng's eyes held his gaze, searching, analyzing, making sure the Omega was in the right mind to give such consent.
The primal part of him roared in approval, but the man, the prince, needed to be certain.
"If you wish," he began, his voice a low, serious promise. "Then I can take care of you. Let me worship you and make you feel good."
His hand was gentle as he ran it through Namping's soft hair, the gesture a stark contrast to the raw desire in his eyes.
Never in his life had Namping heard of an Alpha this sweet, this considerate.
He was falling, hard and fast, completely ensnared by the prince's unexpected charms.
"You have the power," Keng continued, his voice sincere. "Tell me what you like and don't like. We can stop whenever you want."
Namping couldn't believe his ears.
This was the Crown Prince of Sutharach, a man born to rule, who was giving him, a simple tutor, all the power.
If anyone held the power in this room, it was Keng, but he was handing it over so freely, so trustingly.
A brilliant, genuine smile spread across Namping's face. He wrapped his arms around Keng's neck yet again, pulling him close until their foreheads rested together.
"I want to be yours, Alpha," he whispered, the words a vow.
Keng almost forgot how to breathe when he heard those words.
They were everything he had ever wanted, everything he never thought he would have.
He simply pulled Namping closer once more, crushing their lips together in another deep, searing kiss.
This time, there was no hesitation.
The kisses grew wilder and needier, a frantic dance of tongues and teeth as the last of their restraints crumbled away.
Namping let himself fall completely, allowing the sweet, dominant man to take care of him, to claim him.
Keng's hands moved with a newfound urgency, but his touch remained reverent.
He carefully maneuvered Namping's simple tunic over his head, his fingers tracing the warm skin of his sides as the fabric was discarded.
Not even a second after the shirt was gone, Keng's lips were on him, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest until they closed around one of his nipples.
A sharp gasp tore from Namping's lips as Keng's mouth closed around the sensitive bud.
The pleasure was immediate and intense, a white-hot spark that shot straight down his spine.
Keng's tongue swirled and teased, his sucks gentle yet firm, each pull sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in Namping's belly.
He had never experienced anything like this; the simple, focused attention was overwhelming.
His fingers tightened in Keng's hair, holding him close, a silent plea for more.
Keng could feel the tremors running through Namping's body, could hear the soft, breathy moans that escaped him.
He was acutely aware of his own instincts, the primal Alpha urge to dominate, to mark, to claim rising within him like a tide.
The rut was still simmering under his skin, and the sweet, intoxicating scent of Namping's arousal was fanning the flames.
But he fought it.
He clenched his jaw, focusing on the task at hand- not taking, but giving.
He wanted to worship this beautiful creature who had offered him solace, who had seen past the prince to the man beneath.
He switched his attention to Namping's other nipple, giving it the same loving, meticulous treatment, determined to explore every inch of him.
Namping was lost in a haze of sensation. His world had narrowed to the feeling of Keng's mouth on his skin, the strong arms holding him securely, and the deep, rumbling sounds of satisfaction the Alpha was making.
He felt cherished, adored. When Keng finally pulled away, Namping whimpered at the loss, his body arching in a silent plea.
Keng's hands were firm on his waist, guiding him. "Lie back for me," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and restrained desire.
Namping complied without hesitation, shifting from Keng's lap to lie back against the soft pillows of the bed.
He watched, his chest heaving, as Keng knelt over him. The prince's eyes roamed over his exposed torso, his gaze so intense it felt like a physical touch.
Keng's control was a tangible thing, a leash he held on his own, and Namping was in awe of it.
"You are so beautiful," Keng breathed, the words a reverent whisper.
He leaned down, but instead of kissing Namping's lips again, he began a slow, torturous journey downward with his mouth.
He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along Namping's collarbones, down the center of his chest, and over the soft plane of his stomach.
His hands followed, stroking and caressing, mapping the curve of his ribs and the dip of his waist. He was memorizing him, worshipping him with every touch.
Namping squirmed beneath him, his body tingling with anticipation.
He could feel the hard length of Keng's arousal pressing against his thigh, a testament to the desire the Alpha was holding in check.
The knowledge that Keng wanted him so desperately, yet was still holding back for his sake, sent a fresh wave of affection and need coursing through him.
Keng's journey paused at the waistband of Namping's trousers. He looked up, his dark eyes meeting Namping's hazy ones, seeking permission one last time.
Namping simply nodded, lifting his hips in a silent, eager invitation.
With a soft groan, Keng hooked his fingers in the fabric and slowly drew the trousers down, along with his smallclothes, until Namping was completely bare before him.
The cool air of the room made Namping shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat in Keng's gaze as he looked his fill.
The Alpha's eyes were almost black with desire, but there was no aggression, only a profound, almost pained adoration.
He settled between Namping's spread legs, his hands gently stroking the soft skin of his inner thighs.
"Keng..." Namping breathed, his voice a needy whine.
"I'm here, my sweet Omega," Keng reassured him. He lowered his head, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Namping's thigh, so close to where he needed him.
"I'll take care of you." And then he finally gave in to the scent that had been driving him mad, his tongue darting out to taste the slick that was gathering at Namping's entrance.
The first touch felt like it might tip him over the edge already..
Namping cried out, his back arching off the bed.
Keng's tongue was clever and relentless, licking and probing, tasting him with a hunger that bordered on worship.
He lapped at his entrance, gathering the slick, before delving inside, fucking him with his tongue in slow, deliberate strokes.
The lewd, wet sounds filled the room, mingling with Namping's increasingly desperate moans.
Keng's hands held his hips steady, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on his skin as he devoured him.
Namping felt like he was falling apart, piece by piece. The pleasure was building to an unbearable peak, a coil of heat tightening deep in his gut.
He had never felt anything so intense, so all-consuming. "Keng, please... I can't..." he babbled, his hands fisting in the sheets.
Keng could feel the tension in Namping's body, hear the desperation in his voice.
He knew his Omega was close.
He redoubled his efforts, his tongue moving faster, more insistently, until he finally sealed his lips around the small, swollen nub of his nerves and sucked hard.
That was all it took. The coil inside Namping snapped. His vision went white as a powerful orgasm crashed over him.
A strangled cry escaped his lips as his body convulsed, waves of pleasure washing over him again and again.
Keng didn't stop, lapping gently through his climax, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until Namping was a boneless, panting mess beneath him.
When it was over, Namping lay limp, his body humming with a blissful exhaustion.
Keng slowly pulled away, pressing soft, gentle kisses to his trembling thighs before moving back up his body.
He looked down at Namping's face, his expression a mixture of awe and fierce tenderness.
"You are beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.
He leaned down and captured Namping's lips in a deep, slow kiss, letting him taste himself on his tongue.
Namping kissed back weakly, his arms wrapping around Keng's neck, pulling him down until the Alpha's full weight was resting on him.
It was comforting, grounding in a way.
As his breathing slowly returned to normal, Namping became acutely aware of the hard, insistent pressure of Keng's still-unsatisfied arousal against his hip.
He shifted slightly, his leg brushing against it, and Keng let out a low, guttural groan, his hips jerking involuntarily.
"Your rut..." Namping murmured against his lips.
"It's better," Keng breathed, burying his face in Namping's neck. "So much better. But it's not... gone."
He was trembling with the effort of holding back, his body screaming for the release Namping had just experienced.
He was trying so hard to be gentle, to be what the pretty man deserved, but his instincts were howling at him to claim, to knot, to complete the bond.
Namping tilted his head to the side, baring his throat in a gesture of ultimate submission and trust.
"Then take me," he whispered, his voice clear and steady. "Let me be the one to give you peace."