Chapter 2: The Office Encounter
The office door clicked shut, the sound unnaturally loud in the hushed, book-lined sanctuary. Benito Perez didn’t look up immediately, the red pen in his hand hovering over a poorly constructed analysis of market saturation. He knew the scent – ozone and rain, layered over a sweet, unmistakable musk that quickened his blood. Derek Hale.
He finally lifted his gaze as Derek moved silently across the worn wooden floor, dappled moonlight from the fern-streaked window painting shifting patterns on his tense shoulders. The young Omega’s green eyes were wide, pupils blown dark with intent, fixed solely on Benito. He didn’t speak, didn’t hesitate. In three long strides, he was beside the large, scarred oak desk, the place where Benito held office hours, lectured brilliant minds, and maintained the careful façade of Professor Perez.
Derek’s hands, trembling slightly despite the fierce determination in his eyes, went straight to Benito’s belt. His knuckles brushed the burgeoning hardness beneath the tailored trousers, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the Alpha. Leather hissed as the buckle gave way, the zipper followed with a rough, urgent tug. Benito leaned back in his worn leather chair, the springs groaning softly, his dark eyes tracking every movement with predatory intensity. The red pen clattered onto a stack of essays as his hand fisted by his side.
"Oh, fuck yes," Benito breathed, the words rough, barely audible above the hammering of his own pulse in his ears. He remembered the apartment, the couch, Derek’s hungry mouth. This felt more dangerous, more illicit.
Derek’s fingers wrapped around Benito’s thick cock, already fully erect, veins prominent against the flushed skin, the head dark and slick with pre-cum. He didn’t tease. He bent, his lips parting, and took the entire swollen head into the wet heat of his mouth in one smooth, practiced motion. Benito’s hips jerked involuntarily off the chair. A deep groan tore from his throat, primal and unrestrained, echoing strangely against the silent spines of thousands of books.
Jesus Christ. Derek’s mouth was pure fucking magic. Hot, wet suction enveloped Benito’s length as Derek sank lower, his throat muscles fluttering and opening, taking inch after inch until his nose pressed into the coarse dark hair at Benito’s groin. He hollowed his cheeks, creating a brutal vacuum, his tongue swirling relentlessly along the sensitive underside, lapping at the bead of pre-cum leaking steadily.
The wet, sloppy sounds of Derek’s sucking filled the small room – obscene counterpoints to the quiet dignity of academia surrounding them. Benito tangled one hand in Derek’s dark hair, not guiding, just holding, anchoring himself against the onslaught of pleasure. His other hand gripped the armrest so hard the wood creaked.
"Oh, dios mio, just like that, Derek," Benito rasped, his voice thick. "Suck my cock, bebé. Chúpamela toda. Take it deep, you hungry little fuck."
Derek moaned around the thick intrusion, the vibration rippling through Benito’s shaft, making his balls tighten. Derek pulled back slowly, dragging his lips along the straining length, then plunged down again, faster this time, setting a punishing rhythm. Spit slicked Benito’s cock, dripped down Derek’s chin onto the polished wood floor. His eyelids fluttered, pure bliss etched on his young face as he served his Alpha.
Benito watched the dark head bob between his spread thighs, the sight almost painfully erotic. The vulnerability, the surrender, the sheer skill – it was everything his wolf craved. But the rational part of him, the professor, screamed a warning. This is your office. He’s your student. Fuck!
"Derek," he gasped, trying to summon authority that felt slippery and distant. "We… we shouldn’t…"
Derek pulled off Benito’s cock with an obscene wet pop. His lips were swollen, glistening. "Shut up," he breathed, his voice rough with lust. His green eyes blazed up at Benito, not pleading, but demanding. "Don’t stop me. Need it. Need you." His hand stroked Benito’s slick shaft firmly. "Felt your eyes on me in class today. Knew you wanted this. Knew you’d be here."
The raw honesty, the assertion from the Omega, shattered Benito’s thin resistance. His wolf snarled mine, take. With a growl that rumbled deep in his chest, Benito surged forward. He gripped Derek’s shoulders, hauling him roughly to his feet. Papers cascaded off the desk like startled birds as Benito spun Derek around. He pressed the younger man’s muscular torso flat against the cool, worn surface of the oak desk.
"Fine, chico malo," Benito snarled, his breath hot against Derek’s ear. One hand shoved down Derek’s jeans and briefs in one violent motion, exposing the perfect, rounded globes of his ass. The scent hit Benito like a physical blow – the heady, sweet aroma of Omega slick, thick and abundant, already coating Derek’s cleft. "You want it? You fucking got it."
He kicked Derek’s feet wider apart. His cock, wet and throbbing from Derek’s mouth, nudged against the slick entrance. Benito didn’t tease, didn’t prepare. Derek was loose, dripping, his body screaming readiness. Benito gripped his own shaft, guiding the thick, blunt head, and with a single powerful thrust of his hips, buried himself to the hilt in Derek’s tight, welcoming heat.
"FUCK!" Derek screamed into the woodgrain, back arching, fingers scrambling for purchase on the scattered papers. Benito froze for a heartbeat, engulfed in the molten, silken vise of Derek’s body. It was exquisite agony. Hotter, wetter, tighter than he remembered from the couch.
"Coño, está como queso fundido," Benito groaned, his voice raw. "Como te gusta, eh, puta? All wet and open for my cock?" He pulled back almost completely, savoring the sight of his glistening length, then slammed back in, hard, deep, punching the air from Derek’s lungs.
He set a brutal pace immediately, each powerful thrust rocking Derek forward into the desk, making the heavy wood groan in protest. The slap of Benito’s hips against Derek’s ass echoed sharply, joining the slick, wet sounds of penetration and their ragged breathing. Benito leaned over Derek’s back, pinning him, dominating him, one hand braced on the desk, the other gripping Derek’s hip bone hard enough to bruise.
"You feel that, Omega?" Benito gritted out, pistoning his hips relentlessly. "Feel how deep I am? Filling your dirty little hole?" He punctuated his words with sharper, deeper drives. "That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To be pinned down? Fucked raw on your professor’s desk like a cheap slut?"
"Yes! Fuck! Si, Benito!" Derek gasped, pushing back against each thrust, meeting Benito’s power with desperate need. "Harder! Please! Dios, you’re so fucking big!" His ass clenched rhythmically around Benito’s invading length, milking him, the slickness making every plunge smooth and deep. Drool dripped from Derek’s open mouth onto an essay about supply chain management.
Benito shifted his angle slightly, grinding deep on the inward stroke. Derek cried out, a high, broken sound, as Benito’s cockhead slammed directly against the sweet spot inside him. "There! Oh fuck, right THERE!"
"Gritas lindo cuando te doy," Benito growled, a feral grin twisting his lips. He hammered that spot relentlessly, watching Derek shudder and writhe beneath him, reduced to a begging, moaning creature of pure sensation. The scent of their coupling – sex, sweat, musk, and Derek’s slick – filled the air, thick and primal, overwhelming the dust of old paper. Benito’s control frayed, his thrusts becoming more erratic, desperate. He could feel the knot trying to form at the base of his cock, the primal urge to lock them together, claim him fully, swelling against Derek’s rim.
No knotting. The rule flashed through his lust-fogged mind, a last bastion of imposed restraint. With a guttural roar that seemed to vibrate the bookshelves, Benito buried himself one last time, hilting himself impossibly deep in Derek’s convulsing channel. He exploded, hot ropes of cum pulsing deep into Derek’s clenching heat, marking him, claiming him in the only way he allowed himself. He felt Derek’s own release, hot wetness splattering against the underside of the desk as he shuddered violently, impaled on Benito’s cock.
They stayed locked together for long moments, panting, slick with sweat, the only sounds their ragged breaths and the drip of fluids onto the floor. Benito slowly withdrew, his spent cock slick and glistening. Derek slumped forward onto the desk, trembling, his breathing harsh.
Benito stared down at the wreckage – the mussed hair, the reddened skin, the evidence of their coupling smeared on the desk and Derek’s inner thighs. The professor warred violently with the Alpha. He reached out, his hand hovering over the mark blooming on Derek’s hip, then the curve of his spine. Protective instinct surged, hot and fierce. Mine. To protect.