Night had draped over the apartment like a velvet shroud. Gao Tu lay awake, chest tight, Omega instincts flaring from the lingering touch of Wen Lang's Alpha presence. Every memory of their last encounters—the brush of fingers, the low murmurs, the unspoken claims—flooded him with longing he could no longer suppress.
Wen Lang appeared at the doorway, a silhouette commanding even in the dim light. "You think too much," he murmured, voice low, almost growling with dominance, Alpha scent subtly intensifying.
Gao Tu's ears reddened, Omega vulnerability apparent. "I… I can't help it," he admitted, voice trembling, instinctively leaning into the magnetic pull.
Wen Lang stepped closer, deliberate, closing the gap. "Good," he murmured, thumb brushing the nape of Gao Tu's neck—a tease, a claim, an intimate assertion of dominance. "You don't have to fight it anymore."
Omega desire flared violently; Gao Tu shivered under the Alpha's proximity. "I… I want you," he whispered, surrender threading through every word.
Wen Lang's lips curved slightly, satisfied, predatory yet tender. "And you will have me," he murmured, letting the pull linger, letting the tension stretch, unbroken, until both ached with anticipation.