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Derek learned long ago that the best way to survive one of Peter’s freak outs was just to let him get everything out of his system.
He would get worked up about whatever situation he thought was a major crisis, and he’d bombard Derek with phone calls or texts of the woe-is-me variety. It could be a lot to deal with, but, eventually, he would run out of steam, the ‘crisis’ would pass, and Derek could get back to his life. Until then, he just had to weather the storm.
At this moment, Hurricane Peter was raging on and Derek was doing his best to let it blow over.
While he listened to his uncle rant and rave about the merger with Argent International, he offered the occasional “uh-huh” and “of course” and “I can’t believe he’d do that!” while scanning some news sites on his laptop.
Derek was sitting on one of the large, cushioned chairs that Cora had picked out for the terrace. Derek’s penthouse took up the entire top floor of his building, and came with an expansive outdoor terrace that offered a to-die-for view of the Upper West Side. Every morning after his run, Derek would make sure he was able to watch the sunrise from the terrace while he drank his coffee. Derek didn’t have a lot of time for things outside of work, but he made time for that.
Currently, Hale Enterprises and Argent International were only two weeks away from announcing their business collaboration. They had decided to throw a giant event in San Francisco to formally announce the merger, with a guest list that included several top clients from both companies and multiple investors. Chris Argent had even secured the RSVP of a top business writer and an editorial in Fortune magazine with an exclusive interview promoting the plans for the upcoming quarter.
Derek was rather excited about the way things were heading. It had only been a few short days since Chris Argent signed the contract, but since Peter had worked so hard on getting as much ready to go as he could before their sit down, once the ink dried on the contracts, production had begun almost immediately. This union was going to make everyone connected with Hale Enterprises and Argent International a lot of money, and the already high stocks were projected to skyrocket once the merger went public.
“Peter, listen to me,” Derek repositioned himself on the cushioned sofa, closing his laptop and setting it aside. “This merger is huge. And of course Argent wants to be as involved with it as he can be. It’s his chance to create his own legacy.” Derek rubbed his hand across his face, trying to keep the boredom from his tone. “It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he just wants to make sure everything is running smoothly.”
Derek knew that Chris Argent was eager to be included on the more boring day to day things with the merger. He also knew that Peter hated being nagged and questioned about his every move. Peter wasn’t used to being second-guessed and Chris Argent wasn’t used to not having absolute control over a project.
They were more alike than either of them were able to admit and they were both on edge for different reasons. If Derek didn’t have to deal with the both of them, he’d find it quite funny.
“I know it’s a big deal for him, Derek,” Peter growled. “He emails several times a day. Every time I come back from taking a shit, Meredith is telling me that his office has called again to hear an update.”
Derek quirked an eyebrow, “Have you tried timing your shits so that you take them at home?”
“Ha-ha.” Peter replied dryly.
Derek rolled his eyes. “Peter, you know if it were the other way around, if it were you taking a chance-”
“I am taking a chance, Derek.” Peter grumbled under his breath.
“If you were trying to forge a new path with your business,” Derek continued, ignoring Peter completely, “and you decided to work with another company, are you telling me you’d just sit by and let them handle everything without even checking in?”
Peter was silent for a second, but Derek could feel the annoyance rolling off of him from across the city.
“That doesn’t give him the right to annoy the shit out of me.” Peter grumbled petulantly.
“Do you want me to comment honestly?” Derek switched his phone to the other ear and lifted his feet to rest on the ottoman. He would really rather be doing literally anything else than having this conversation with Peter. For the fifth time.
“No.” Peter snapped.
From inside the penthouse, Derek heard the landline begin to ring.
“Peter, I’ve got go.” Derek said, using this as an out. Although, to be honest, at this point Derek would have taken any excuse to get off the phone with his uncle. “I know it’s frustrating, but just humor him.”
He walked back inside and made his way to front of the apartment, where the house phone was mounted to the wall right next to the elevator.
“In a few weeks once everything is official, we’ll have the launch party, the two of you will have the interview with the woman from Fortune magazine, and everything will run smoothly. Once we start making money from this, Chris will be out of your ass.”
“Well that’s an image I don’t need,” he scoffed.
Derek sighed heavily. “Goodbye, Peter!”
He ended the call and slipped his phone in the pocket of his track pants, while he picked up the house phone with the other hand. “Hale.”
“Hello, Mr. Hale, it’s the front desk. There’s someone in the lobby who says he has a delivery for you?”
For a split second, Derek was a little confused; most of the time he had things delivered to the office. It made sense since he spent most of his time there. He usually only had things shipped to the penthouse if it was something that wasn’t work related. Derek thought back to what he could have possible ordered recently and his breath caught in his throat.
The only thing he’d ordered recently was a very expensive bottle of omega milk, that was made just for him from the omega of his dreams.
His heart began to beat faster and the slow curl of arousal unfurled in his stomach.
“Send them up.” He barked, barely keeping the growl out of his voice.
“Yes, sir.”
Derek hung up the phone and paced around the front of the penthouse near the door, anxiously waiting for the elevator to reach his floor.
Derek had jerked off every night since he met that sweet, sexy omega Stiles at the hidden-in-plain-sight omega bar downtown.
The memory of the taste of that omega’s milk haunted Derek’s senses. If he concentrated really hard, he could still smell the soft, cinnamon scent that had radiated from the omega’s smooth skin as Derek held his neck in a firm grip between his teeth and fucked into his tight, hot hole.
If it wasn’t for Derek’s lycanthropic healing factor, he was sure his dick would have been chaffed beyond belief from all the action it was getting.
He was grateful to the giant distraction that work was providing him. Without it, he was sure he’d be crawling the walls in anticipation to see the omega again. Hell, he probably would have squandered an alarming amount of his bank account at Dolce, glutting himself on sweet milky omegas, suckling and fucking to his heart’s content.
Derek was shaken from this particularly delicious train of thought by the sound of the elevator ascending in the shaft. Derek cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, trying to get a rein on his more carnal hungers. At least until after the delivery person had left.
Finally, the elevator stopped on the penthouse floor.
There was a soft ding and Derek heard the elevator doors open up to Derek’s closed front door. From the other side came a firm, even knock.
Derek took a calming breath and counted to three inside of his head --not wanting to seem too eager--before he opened his front door.
Inside the elevator, there stood a well-dressed beta who was adorned in all black. On the breast of his button down shirt, there was an elaborate ‘D’ embroidered in gold thread. In one hand he held a clipboard and cradled in the other was an oblong, black velvet box wrapped with a lavish, gold-colored ribbon.
“Good evening.” He smiled cordially at Derek, nodding his head slightly in greeting. He glanced down at the clipboard in his hand. “I have a delivery for Mr. Hale.”
“That’s me,” Derek said gruffly, stepping back to allow the beta into the apartment.
The man stepped into Derek’s apartment and held the clipboard out to Derek.
“Can I have your initials here, here and here, please?” He pointed to several areas on the sheet which Derek then signed. "And then your full signature at the bottom of the page.”
Derek scribbled his signature and handed the clipboard back to the young man. He glanced over it briefly, making sure everything was signed appropriately, and tucked the clipboard under his arm.
“Here you go, Mr. Hale.” He handed Derek the elaborately wrapped box. “It is recommended that it is stored in a refrigerated environment, however, it can be consumed either warm or chilled.”
Derek nodded, glancing down at the box. “Thank you.” This was probably the fanciest delivery Derek had ever received.
He grabbed his wallet from the table near the door and pulled out several bills, handing them to the delivery boy. “For your service.”
The beta glanced and the bills, nodding professionally and tucking them into the breast pocket on his shirt. “Thank you, Mr. Hale.”
The beta stepped back into the elevator, and Derek closed the door to his apartment. He heard the elevator doors close and the elevator beginning its descent.
The velvet box was cool in Derek’s hands and he was willing to bet that it was in an insulated box. He headed into his large, although mostly unused, kitchen. Derek unwrapped the elegant ribbon and lifted the lid off of the box. Inside, nestled within gold tissue paper, was a bottle with black-frosted glass. The top of the bottle had gold foil around the cork and beneath that, a metal fastener. On the front of the bottle, there was a metallic gold label with elaborate script, the cursive font matching the sign above the bar, reading ‘Dolce’ in large letters. Beneath that was the production date, stamped with Sunday’s date.
Derek practically purred in delight picturing the omega, Stiles, milking himself and filling this bottle for Derek. Flushed, and whimpering and oh so wet, just for him.
Derek made space in his wine fridge for the bottle, vowing to treat himself to something extra special tonight.
*
Derek wanted to take his time and his bottle of omega milk, without any trace of work baggage.
He ate dinner standing at the counter while he shot off a few last minute emails, then he got in a thorough workout. The stress that had been sitting on his shoulders seemed to disappear, and as Derek was in the shower washing himself off, he pictured the tension spiraling down the drain with the water. Eventually, Derek toweled off and exited the bathroom.
He made his way through the penthouse, still nude, to the kitchen and grabbed a tumbler from the cupboard. As much as he wanted to take this into his bedroom, he knew he was probably going to make a bit of a mess. So instead, he brought the tumbler and the milk into the large living room and sat down on the couch. Cora was the one who had picked out Derek’s furniture. He wasn’t one for leather couches, or giant, opulent glass coffee tables. (“It looks like something some Wall Street asshat from the 80s would snort coke off, Cora.” )
Derek made himself comfortable on the couch. Using the all-in-one remote that Boyd had gotten him for Christmas last year, Derek turned on some soft music for some background noise. Finding an album he liked, he set the remote down on the couch and turned his attention to the large, black bottle.
Derek unwrapped the foil surrounding the top of the bottle and set it on the table. He didn’t think to bring an opener to remove the cork, so he instead extended a single claw, gouging it into the cork. He ignored the tug where the base of his nail met his nail-bed, and after enough steady force the cork finally jerked out.
Immediately, the smooth, creamy aroma hit Derek’s nose, wrapping him in a cocoon of warm desire. His eyelids fluttered involuntarily as he shuddered, his sensory memory taking over reminding him of last weekend’s activities and being able to taste this straight from the source.
Derek let out a low satisfied growl. The scent alone had him half hard, and he reached down to fondle himself momentarily, coaxing his erection to full hardness. He was right to have had this delivered to the house, because if he had had it shipped to the office, there’s no way he would have gotten anything done, because he would have been too busy drinking every last drop from the bottle with his hand on his cock.
He poured a few fingers’ worth into the tumbler, his eyes practically glazing over as he watched the milk fill the glass. He was distracted as he set the bottle back on the table, nearly setting it too close to the table’s edge.
Derek settled back into the couch and brought the glass of omega milk to his nose, breathing in as much of the scent as he could, looking for even the subtlest hint of Stiles’ scent that he could. Not wanting to waste a moment more, he tipped the glass back, swallowing nearly the entire amount he’d poured in one gulp.
The smooth taste washed over Derek’s taste buds and he heard himself growl in contentment, and as he swallowed, he felt the heavy, mind-numbing sensation of arousal pool in his stomach.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned. His cock was curled up against his belly, the tip flushed and leaking against his skin.
The taste of the milk very vividly brought back all of the memories of the omega beneath him and the seductive atmosphere of Dolce. His mind flashed to images of Stiles, spread out beneath him, the way his body arched up into his and the tender little mewls he made as Derek fucked into his body.
Derek felt around the couch, looking for the remote, and accessed the web browser on the smart TV. He browsed through his bookmarks, scrolling through some of his favorite porn sites for which he had a membership.
Boyd made fun of Derek for being one of the only people who still paid for porn, but he didn’t care. Of course he realized he could get it free on the internet, but he was a firm believer in paying for the things he liked and supporting the person who provided the service.
Like most things that came with having a membership, the sites Derek subscribed to were top quality, both in content and in visual quality. Derek liked compensating the actors for their work. He also liked the peace of mind that came with knowing that the participants in the videos were of legal age, were consenting participants, and that their videos hadn’t been stolen and uploaded without their permission. The last thing Derek wanted to think about while he was watching porn was whether or not everyone was safe and taken care of.
When he found a site that piqued his interest, Derek clicked on it and quickly found a video that he found to be just the exact level of arousing that he needed.
He tossed the remote back on the couch, and grabbed the bottle of milk from the table, filling his glass once again. Derek spread his legs a little wider, giving his hand room to work between his legs as he rolled his balls in his hand.
The video he chose was of two lactating omegas who were sensually making love to one another, nursing intermittently, on a large canopied bed with overstuffed pillows and a beautiful beach view outside the window behind them. The male and female omega gently fondled one another while making out sweetly on the large bed, the male omega’s hand slowly jacking his own weeping cock. Derek brought his hand to his own cock, stroking slowly to match the pace of the male omega. His eyes fell to the omegas’ breasts which had sensual pearls of milk pearling at the nipple and dribbling down the skin of the side of their skin.
Derek took a long slow sip from his glass, his eyes still trained on the video. The milk was thick and creamy as it ran down his throat, appealing to Derek's basest of senses both in taste and smell. Derek let out a growl low in his throat, the arousal flowing through his body like electrical currents. He wanted nothing more than an omega to fuck right now, and because the taste of the milk he was drinking, his body wanted one omega in particular.
Derek looked down at his cock, and as a particular wave of animal arousal washed through him, he tilted his glass, pouring some milk down onto his erection, covering his cock in the scent of the omega. He set the glass down quickly, and used his other hand to catch the milk that threatened to spill onto the couch, working it back into the base of his cock.
His eyes flashed back up to the video, and he watched as the female omega was seated on the male omega’s face, riding his mouth as she squeezed her tits, milking herself and letting the droplets flow down her stomach, towards her pussy, and drip on the male omega’s chin. Derek worked his shaft with one hand and his balls with the other, massaging the milk into his skin. The smell of his precome and the omega’s milk caused his fangs to drop and his mouth to water.
He set his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. He heard the sound of the omegas on screen and wondered what Stiles would sound like. Their time together had been characterized by the fact that Stiles was working, so he wasn’t really allowed to make noise. At Dolce, Derek heard the whimpers and whines that Stiles couldn’t hold in, but it wasn’t enough. He would have given anything to hear what Stiles sounded like when he wasn’t holding back.
Derek leaned forward and grabbed the entire bottle that was sitting on the table. He brought it up to his mouth and took several gulps, feeling the creamy liquid fill his mouth and slide down his throat. He jerked his shaft more firmly, his hips thrusting up into his hand and the sounds of the fucking omegas filling his ears. Having his fill, Derek pulled the bottle away from his mouth, but poured more onto his erection, using the liquid to help lubricate his cock.
Derek brought one of his feet to rest on the edge of the coffee table as he spread his knees wider and wider. He reached down to his balls, rolling them around him his hand. He tilted the bottle again, dripping some of the liquid onto his chest, allowing it to drip down and mingle in his pubes, dripping onto the hand working the full globes.
“Fuck, yes,” He groaned out into the silence of his apartment. Derek set the bottle down on the floor, his other hand returning to his cock. He thrust up into his hand again using the omega’s milk to work his shaft.
His mind flashed back to the svelte omega, all trussed up and open just for him. He recalled the way he pushed back against his knot, pushing onto the bulb as if he could work Derek’s fully inflated knot back inside of his tight hole. The little mewling noises he made while he rubbed up against Derek as he fucked him.
“Shit, little one.” Derek grunted out, thrusting into his hand faster and faster. Derek tried his best to pretend that the tightness of his hand was the omega's hole, squeezing his cock, trying its hardest to milk Derek of his come.
Derek could feel his knot inflating at the base of his shaft and he bought a hand between his legs, cupping the base of his cock so he could squeeze the swelling knot. With his other hand, he worked the head of his dripping cock, the milk coating the way and acting as a lube. Delirious with arousal, Derek barely noticed as he shifted off of the couch, coming to stand with one foot on the ground and the other on the surface of the glass coffee table.
Derek growled ferally, fucking into his hand, his eyes trained on the omegas on the tv screen. He thrust faster and faster until his orgasm finally washed over him, and he threw his head back and roared, thrusting into his hand while white streams of come shot out, streaking the surface of the table. He rode his hand, reveling in the aftershocks, slowing his thrusts bit by bit until his mind returned to its normal state, and the feeling of his hands on his cock were just this side of too much.
With an exhausted exhale, Derek plopped back down onto the couch, come and milk dripping off of his cock and onto the leather of the couch. Not that the mess bothered Derek any, he’d just have it cleaned. Hell, he’d just buy a new couch all together.
He reached down to grab the bottle, which barely had any milk left, and took a long swig, draining the last of the bottle.
Setting it to the side, Derek idly palmed his balls, enjoying the slight stings of over-sensitivity, while he watched the last of the porno in a fucked out haze. It wasn’t long before the omegas on screen were reaching their own climaxes, and Derek watched as they whimpered and moaned their way through, and the video faded out while the two snuggled in each other’s embrace.
Derek closed the browser, turning off the TV, and just listened to the music which was still playing from the stereo. He sat on the couch and waited for his energy to return enough for him to get up from the couch. When he finally had the strength, he got up from the couch and walked through his apartment naked, his cock covered in his own release and the omega’s milk, dribbling on the floor as he made his way into his bathroom.
After his second shower for the evening, Derek climbed into his bed, too tired to put anything on. He checked his phone one last time which revealed a text from Erica reminding him about a conference call he had tomorrow. Derek fired off a quick response before he plugged his phone into the charger and set it on the night stand.
Despite the fact that Derek had brushed his teeth and used mouthwash, he could still taste the omega’s milk on his tongue.
Derek thought that the milk would help quell the burning ache in his stomach that demanded he see the omega again. But, instead, it had made the desire to see Stiles even worse, and Derek knew that the only thing that would make this go away once and for all would be to see the omega again. Before Derek finally drifted off to sleep, he made a vow that tomorrow morning he would call the omega.
He would see Stiles once more. His sanity depended on it.
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