At the Alpha's question Kit wasn’t just crying anymore; he was full-on wailing.

 The sound was raw and messy, the kind of hysterical sobbing that comes from someone whose body has just gone through a traumatic shock.

 He wasn't the "doll-like" Omega who looked pretty while weeping; his face was blotchy nou, his eyes were red and streaming, and he looked genuinely miserable.

 Maksim let out a long, tortured sigh of pure frustration. The Rut was still screaming in his blood, making every nerve ending on his body feel like it was being scorched, and the sound of the sobbing was like a jagged knife to his focus.

 "I didn't tell you to start a performance of tears," Maksim growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "I asked you a question. Are you a virgin?"

 Kit only cried harder, his chest heaving under the remnants of the red silk.

 "Enough!" Maksim snapped. He reached out and gripped Kit’s slender arm, wrenching him off the mattress so he was forced to look the Alpha in the eye. "Will you quit the freaking tears? I didn't even go that deep! The only reason there is blood on my sheets is because you're a goddamn virgin. I barely entered you!"

 Even in the middle of a breakdown, Kit’s sassy soul refused to die. He swung a weak, trembling fist and thudded it against Maksim’s massive, rock-hard chest. It was like hitting a brick wall—Maksim didn't even blink, but the effort made Kit let out a fresh sob.

 "It hurts!" Kit shrieked, his voice cracking. "You did go too deep! You big... stupid... fridge! I can still feel it in my ass! It feels like you left a hot lead pipe inside me!"

 Maksim’s jaw tightened so hard a muscle jumped in his cheek. He grabbed both of Kit’s wrists in one of his massive hands, pinning them together to stop the useless hitting.

 "I did not go that deep," Maksim hissed, his glowing red eyes boring into Kit’s. "I was only halfway in before you started screaming for me to take it out. If I had actually finished the thrust, you wouldn't be sitting here talking back to me."

 Kit looked up at him, his small eyes—none of that big, watery Omega-eye bullshit—looking sharp and pained. He sniffled loudly, his nose running, looking completely pathetic and defiant all at once.

 "But something hurts down there!" Kit blubbered, his bottom lip trembling. "It’s stinging! You're the Alpha here, aren't you supposed to be freaking good at this? You just... you just shoved it in like you were trying to break a door down!"

 Maksim looked at the blood on the sheets again, then at the small, trembling virgin he had nearly dismantled. The heat of his Rut was still pushing him, making his own length throb with a violent need, but the sight of Kit’s genuine distress was creating a strange, irritating friction in his chest.

 "I am used to Omegas who are prepared and experienced," Maksim rasped, his grip on Kit’s wrists softening just a fraction, though he didn't let go. "I am not used to... this."

 He let out a heavy, ragged breath, the sound vibrating in the air like a low-frequency hum.

 The Rut was pushing him toward the edge of insanity, making his skin feel too tight for his muscles, but the sight of Kit’s blotchy, tear-stained face acted like a momentary anchor.

 "Stop crying, Persicheck," Maksim commanded, though his voice had lost its sharp edge, replaced by a deep, gritty gravel. "Just lay back down."

 Kit sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, his eyes narrowing even through the tears. "Are you deaf? I'm saying it hurts, you big fridge, and you still want to fuck me? I’m literally bleeding on your million-dollar sheets!"

 Maksim felt a fresh prickle of frustration—partly at the boy’s mouth and partly at the physical agony of his own restraint. He forced himself to stay still, his jaw working as he fought the urge to just take what he needed.

 "I am trying to make this easier for both of us," Maksim rasped, his red eyes burning with a dark, focused intensity. "If I don't do this, neither of us is leaving this bed for days. Now, lay. Back. Down."

 Kit hesitated, searching Maksim’s face for a second. Seeing the sheer, strained desperation in the Alpha’s eyes, he finally slumped back against the pillows with a shaky exhale. "Fine. But if you break me, I’m suing you for every penny you have. I’ll own half of Russia by sunrise."

 "Spread your legs persicheck," Maksim ordered.

 Kit’s face went a brilliant shade of crimson. He looked away, his neck flushing as he slowly let his knees fall open. Maksim didn't wait.

 He moved between Kit’s thighs, his large hands grabbing Kit’s ankles and hoisting his legs up until they were draped over his broad shoulders.

 The position was utterly exposing. Kit felt the cool air of the penthouse hit his sensitive skin, and his heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. "What are you doing? I thought you were—"

 Before Kit could even finish the sentence, Maksim leaned in. He didn't reach for lube; he didn't reach for his cock. Instead, he leaned his head down, his hot, ozone-scented breath ghosting over Kit's inner thighs.

 With a predatory smirk that Kit couldn't see but could definitely feel, Maksim entered him—not with his dick, but with his tongue.

 The first contact was a shock. Kit’s entire body jolted as if he’d been hit by a live wire. Maksim wasn't being gentle; he was being thorough, his tongue hot and broad as he began to lick and suck at the tight, stinging entrance he had just bruised.

 "AAAHHHHH!!!!!MPHMHHHPH!"

 The sound was ripped from Kit’s throat. It wasn't a sob this time. Electric shock waves radiated from his core, shooting down his spine and making his toes curl inward so hard they cramped. The "Null" biology that had been dormant his entire life was suddenly screaming, waking up under the expert, dominant touch of a Sokolov.

 Maksim’s hands tightened on Kit's calves, pinning him in place as he worked. He could taste the copper of the small tear, the salt of Kit’s skin, and the sudden, sweet rush of Omega slickness that was finally—finally—beginning to coat the area.

 Kit’s head tossed back against the pillows, his hands clutching at the silk sheets until they bunched in his fists.

 The stinging pain was still there, but it was being drowned out by a thick, heavy pulse of pleasure that made his hips twitch involuntarily toward Maksim’s face.

 "Wait... stop... that’s... Ahhhhhh.." Kit moaned, his sassy voice breaking into a soft, needy whimper.

 The air in the room was no longer just air; it was a thick, sweltering soup of Ozone and the sudden, sweet, and terrifyingly sharp scent of an Omega finally breaking open.

 Maksim didn’t stop his relentless assault. His tongue was a hot, broad muscle, flicking and swirling against Kit’s stinging entrance until the pain was buried under a mountain of white-hot friction.

 Between the wet, slurping sounds of his mouth, Maksim let out a low, vibrating growl against Kit’s skin.

 "Still so sensitive, Persicheck," Maksim rasped, his voice sounding like gravel being crushed. He looked up, his red eyes burning with a feverish light, and saw Kit’s small, pale cock standing rock-hard and leaking a clear, frantic bead of pre-cum.

 With a dark smirk, Maksim reached up and wrapped his massive, calloused hand around Kit’s length. He began to stroke him with a brutal, rhythmic speed that Kit had never experienced.

 "Nnngh! H-Stop!" Kit sobbed, his head thrashing against the pillows. His body was a mess of sweat and a sudden, involuntary musk that was making the room spin. "You’re... you’re doing too much... I can’t—!"

 From this point Maksim Sokolov is speaking In Russian the words in Brackets are the English translations

 Maksim didn't listen. He leaned back in, his tongue shoving deep into Kit’s opening again, but this time, he added his fingers. One, then two thick, heavy digits forced their way past the rim, joining his tongue in a wet, rhythmic dance of stretching.

 "Suka... takaya uzkaya," Maksim hissed against Kit’s inner thigh. (Bitch... so tight.)

 He pushed the fingers in deeper, scissoring them open to widen the virgin passage. Kit’s hips buckled, a high-pitched, broken moan tearing from his throat. His toes curled inward so hard they cramped, his heels digging into Maksim’s massive shoulders as he tried—and failed—to push the Alpha’s face away.

 "Bozhe, kak ty techesh' dlya menya," Maksim rumbled, his voice muffled by Kit’s flesh. (God, Look how you’re leaking for me.)

 He sucked a mouthful of Kit’s sensitive skin into his mouth, marking him with a dark, purplish bruise while his fingers worked relentlessly inside.

 "Khoroshaya devochka... net, khoroshiy mal'chik," Maksim corrected himself with a cruel, throaty chuckle, his fingers hooking against Kit's internal walls. (Good girl... no, good boy.) "Ty budesh' prinimat' kazhdyy dyuym. YA razrushu etu tselostnost'." (You’re going to take every inch. I’m going to destroy this tight little hole.)

 "I don't... I don't understand you!" Kit shrieked, his voice dissolving into wet, messy gasps. "Speak... speak English, you refrigerator! Ahhh! Stop touching me there!"

 But the "Null" was gone.

 Kit was a trembling disaster of slick and sweat.

 His internal walls were pulsing, gripping Maksim’s fingers with a desperate, hungry rhythm he couldn't control. The electric shocks were hitting his brain so hard he couldn't remember his own name.

 "Ti khochesh eto," Maksim whispered, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of Kit’s taint. (You wanted this.) "Tvoya dyra szhimayetsya vokrug moikh pal'tsev... predstav', chto budet, kogda ya zamenyu ikh svoyim chlenom." (Your hole is squeezing around my fingers... imagine what will happen when I replace them with my cock.)

 He suddenly shoved his fingers in to the knuckle, stretching Kit so wide the boy’s eyes rolled back into his head. The slurping sounds of Maksim’s tongue and the wet squelch of his fingers filled the silent penthouse.

 "Slushay menya, Persicheck," Maksim growled, pulling his hand back just to slam it in again. (Listen to me, Peach.) "Segodnya ty uznayesh', chto takoye nastoyashchiy Al'fa. YA sdelayu tebya svoim." (Today you will learn what a real Alpha is. I will make you scream my name nonstop)

 Kit couldn't even form words anymore. He was just a collection of high-pitched whimpers and frantic, bucking hips.

 He felt Maksim’s fingers leave him for a second, only to be replaced by the hot, blunt head of that monstrous, pulsing dick once more. "AHHHHG!!! N- Not Yet Fuck Haaa!!!

 Kit was vibrating, his body arched in a desperate, trembling curve. His internal walls were weeping, the slickness coating his thighs, and his vision was swimming with the electric scent of Ozone.

 Maksim pinned Kit face-down into the pillows, his heavy chest crushing Kit's back. He positioned himself at the entrance he had just spent ten minutes licking, the blunt, hot head of his cock pressing against the slick, pulsing hole.

 "Ready persicheck?" Maksim rasped into Kit’s ear.

 "Fuck!" Kit shrieked, using one of the only "normal" words he knew. "Just start already!"