Bond must have blacked out. His eyelids felt heavy and the urge to just let go and drift back into sleep was almost overwhelming him. But he couldn't. His mind was filled with noise. Screams. He had to fight back, he needed to regain control of his senses and his body. He tried to turn around to lie on his back, only to be stopped by an arm, gently holding him in place. For a second his muscles tensed, ready for fight, then he remembered. With a groan that turned into a helpless quiet sob he relented. His fingers curled into the sheets, the movement freeing a cloud of pheromones. The warmth of the body lodged at his back, the soft kiss placed soothingly on his neck, it all added to his feeling of weakness, of emasculation. He tried to move, only to feel the alpha seated deeply inside of him, the knot tying them together. The resulting orgasm only a ripple, a soft current in his muscles.
He waited, only his hand fidgeting with the soiled sheets, every twist adding to the seductive cloud around him. As fuzzy as his mind was, this would have been the time for Olivia to berate him of his disobedience, his failings. She would tear him open and apart when he was at his most vulnerable. She would stitch him back together, later, when the heat was waning, when his shields would be back up again. Bond would squirm helplessly in her grip, mind and body trying to appease the alpha. They would never speak about these incidents afterwards. Bond not wanting to be reminded of what he perceived as a devastating weakness; Olivia not needing to remind Bond of her power over him.
He felt sluggish, tired. He did not want to fight. Not any longer. His defences were down. As much as he loathed his body, he needed the closeness, the feeling of being held, of being pinned down. Mallory sensed his disquiet. No words were spoken, no accusations raised. The warm body was draped over his, the weight comforting. Experienced fingers were combing through his damp hair, lightly massaging his scalp. His breathing evened out, became a contented humming, which was answered with a low, satisfied growling. The screaming in his head ceased, replaced by the merging of the soft noises around him, a quiet silence taking hold of him. He drifted off into this silence.
When he woke up from his peaceful sleep, he found himself lying in clean sheets. The air in the room was fresh, even if their pheromones still lingered. He opened his eyes to find a friendly face watching him closely. Mallory was sitting on the bed, holding a glass of water invitingly towards him. A few clumsy movements and a shared laughter later, and Bond let Mallory hold the glass to his lips. Bond was too relaxed, too worn out to even hold a glass in his hands. His mind was clear, just for a few hours before the next wave of randiness would hit them both. Mallory pampered him. Fed him small, tasty bites of delicious food, urged him to drink. He lead him to the bathroom and with a nod acknowledge Bond's need for privacy. They would arrange themselves on the bed, Mallory leaning up against the headboard, Bond between his legs. All the time, Mallory would make sure to be close, enveloping Bond with a bewildering, but welcome kindness.
It was when the Bond was drowning once more in the scents and sensations of their coupling that he realised they hadn't spoken at all. Instead, the silence between them had been comforting. A touch, a blink, a small nod and they knew what the other wanted or needed. With a satisfied sigh, Bond turned over and let the alpha have his way with him.
He felt safe.