A/N: This was supposed to be the end, after all, I meant for this to be a short oneshot, but... yeah. As of now, I don't know how much more I'll add to this. I have about three different scenarios for a real ending, but I've yet to decide which route I'd like to take.
Warnings: Same as Chapter 1
Makoto fidgets, his nails digging into his denim-covered thighs.
"Having second thoughts?" The woman asks. Her expression never shifts from its business-like, polite smile. It unsettles him that he's so easy to read. She can probably smell the agitation rolling off of him in waves.
"As I've said," She begins, leaning forward in her chair, her hands folding gracefully above her desk. "Your prospects for anything better are slim. This job will secure an easier future for you and your siblings, and we know how much you'll need it. I'd never heard of a couple producing three Beta children." She chuckles to herself.
Makoto remains silent, teeth worrying the inside of his cheek.
The woman sighs, "We run a very private club with an incredibly exclusive selection of members, Tachibana-kun. We make sure all our members are clear of any diseases, and even provide a little extra help to make the entire experience enjoyable for all of those involved. If you decide to join us, please don't hesitate to call us. I've given you our card, but be aware that the longer you—"
"I'll do it." The words come just as the woman rises from her seat, prepared to shoo him away. She sits back down, teeth showing from behind her grin.
"Good, then you'll start this upcoming Friday. You've just made the best decision of your life, Tachibana-kun."
Makoto reaches for the woman's extended hand, a nervous swarm invading his stomach.
...
There was never a day that Makoto didn't wonder how his life would have differed if he'd been born an Alpha or an Omega.
Someone of value to society, as he'd heard countless times.
The pain those words inflicted never lessened, no matter how many times they were repeated.
Surely, surely, the ability to reproduce wasn't all that gave a person's life value.
The rest of his thoughts, as well as his lingering hesitation and fear, slowly ebbed away as the warm liquid they'd injected him with coursed through his bloodstream.
...
Makoto's breath catches when a rough hand pulls off the blindfold. The buzzing effects of the drug prevent the fear that ignites within him to spread any further. Instead, desire hums beneath his feverish skin when dark eyes meet his.
Makoto wants to say something, anything, but his mind feels foggy and his tongue heavy.
The man moves closer, a large hand reaching for his hair. Makoto is suddenly aware that his hands are useless, tied and pressed behind his back.
His heart speeds up when the man pulls at his hair, tilting his head back against the bed. Fear trickles in again, but quickly diminishes when warm lips brush his sensitive neck.
Makoto can't help himself. He wants more, he needs more. Now.
Makoto gasps, hoping, dearly hoping, that the man would do that again.
His mouth falls open in a silent scream of pleasure when he feels the man's teeth digging into his neck. He arches his back, silently begging for more.
The teeth drag down to his shoulder, nipping and scraping along the way. Makoto shivers as his hair is released and two firm hands begin to explore his body.
Every part of him is exposed, bare, open, to the man above him. Every part of, at least for the time allowed, belongs to this man. It's frighteningly exhilarating.
Makoto shuts his eyes when the man's fingers seep into him. There's no resistance or pain, but the sensation is still new to Makoto. The man's movements are quick with no room for gentleness.
In seconds, Makoto's legs are spread wide, his thighs trembling under the tight grip of the man's hands. He bites his lip as the man pulls him closer, burying himself inside of Makoto.
It's maddening waiting for the other to move.
His eyes finally flick open when the man begins to roll his hips.
Full, he feels so deliciously full.
He blinks when the man shifts, his hands coming to rest on either side of Makoto. Their position changes, the angle of the man's hips allowing him to go deeper. The man's heavy, hot breath mingles with his as their faces align. Makoto's hips buck, he's desperate to match the brutal rhythm of the man's thrusts.
He can't.
Makoto throws his head back, gasps, moans, screams.
Greedy lips assault his jugular, teeth nipping his tender flesh. He hears the man speak rough, tantalizing words against his heated skin. Even under the pleasant haze he's under, Makoto can understand them, but can't reciprocate.
Pleasure, delirious pleasure is all he can feel.
It's all he ever wants to feel.
...
Makoto wakes up to an empty room.
The soiled sheets, marks on his body, and stinging pain to his lower back, the only traces of the man that had been with him the night before.