by Isoellen
Her skin was changing with maturation, but the scars of her past remained. He would be at eye level with a few of the worst ones. Sasha could barely register the idea. The king's heir was on his knees behind her, his breath a tingling pleasure that made her muscles clench and release, awakening every feminine nerve with pure need.
Wet released. She was beyond embarrassment when she felt it dripping down her thighs. He was going to make it spatter and splash like rain on the floor. She knew it.
Kane caressed the dip just above the crack of her curved bottom with a knuckle, and Sasha cried out, a tender touch before he hooked his finger in her underwear. He drew the fabric up, pulled it uncomfortably between the separation of her cheeks, and manipulated it between the lips of her sex until it was a soaked torture device he could pull back and forth.
He used it to tease her swollen clit, brushing it against her hole, tormenting the tight pucker of her anus. Sasha whimpered between clenched teeth as he tormented her sensitive flesh with the gentlest of sensations.
Back and forth. His breathing increased, hers matching his.
Back and forth—the perfect amount of pressure to torment her.
"Alpha," she whispered. Something was happening to her. Her slick increased. She heard the splatter drip to the concrete floor. Oh, how she needed, but wouldn't ask.
The word was like a signal. The knife moved; her panties joined the rest of her clothes on the floor.
But then he got up and went to the door.
He was leaving her again.
"No, please!" It was the first time she had weakened. He could do anything to her, but she needed his presence like she needed air.
He leveled a glare at her with violent gold eyes.
Setting his fist to the door, he pounded noisily several times before opening it, a warning that he was coming out and for anyone in the hall to disappear, she guessed. She let out a choked cry of pure relief when he just grabbed up two buckets and a cloth, then went back for a hose that he attached to a spigot from the wall.
He attached the hose and turned it on, water flowing.
"Kane, what—"
He cut her off with the impact of the chilly blast of water. There was no mercy when he sprayed the hose at her aroused body.
She shrieked with the angry shock of it, then let all the pent up emotion and desire loose by screaming her head off. He had heated her body to a frenzy, only to freeze her to death.
The lowering of his brows was the only warning she got before he spanked her bottom hard with the flat of his hand.
"No!" he barked.
"It's cold!" she yelled, wild and angry.
Another stinging spank in the same spot made her body jerk forward in the chains.
"No!"
Sasha let out a throaty grumbling noise, but kept the volume low.
Kane soaked her with the hose, head to toe. He unbound her braid, then did it again.
She was shivering when he brought over the bucket with warm water and a cloth. He lathered it with a cake of his soap and starting at her chained hands, he washed her.
It was a slow, sensual glide, warm contrasting with cold, rough cloth contrasting with his exquisitely gentle touch.
"You have his smell on you," he growled in her ear. "You put yourself in a position for another male to touch you."
Goosebumps raised all over her body in response to the resurgence of Kane's rage.
"You wanted another male to touch you," he accused. His cloth covered hand slid down her arm to her throat. He could twist her neck, pop her head like a grape. He could end her life so easily.
His palm was so big that it forced her head back when he gripped her throat, his thick fingers touching at her nape. His eyes glowed yellow when he gazed into hers. He was magnificent, this snarly male.
"No," she denied without thought.
"Don't lie, Beauty. That's what the Selection is. You want your father's fucking man. You would let a stranger touch you. That's what you want."
Sasha was going to say something. She didn't know what, but she needed to answer his eyes, his words. Her heart demanded she answer.
He was wrong in his assumption. Couldn't he see or smell how wrong he was?
The cloth swooped up over her mouth. "No. I don't want to hear it."
Biting her lip, she silenced herself. His eyes dipped there. His head was so close, his body invading her space, taking over. She wanted that mouth of his on hers. Her tongue slipped out, wetting her lips, daring him.
Jerking away, he wet the cloth again, soaping it up as if counting out each bubble. He wasn't finished.
"I know that Sara has been to see you already. I know that Sara explained the transition process. I know that you must have heard her and that you are an intelligent creature. I will tell you again. Maybe you won’t forget this time.
"Breeders are rare. About one in ten are born omega, a biological marvel and the ideal mate for the alpha dynamic. There is a physical development that takes place. Your womb, your vagina, is in the process of maturing and changing to accommodate alpha cock and an alpha knot.
"Only the omega breeder goes through this transition. Beta wombs and the rare alpha cunt develop like a drone cunt. But breeders have a magic pussy.
"You are so small. A tiny five feet, two inches to my seven foot five. It's a medical marvel that you could take half my dick. It's a fucking miracle that you could take all of it.
"But you will take it all, up into your chest cavity if you need to, your organs moving and your pussy accommodating. And you will birth the best of the alphas. No beta children for you. Only the strongest. Only the dynamic that ensures the continuation of the breeds."
His voice was seduction, manipulating her blood and bones while his touch electrified her nerves and skin, heating her up again. He was arousing and stimulating as the washcloth dipped down to her belly, skimming too quickly over her breasts and round bottom before it moved on to her thighs.
"You are not there yet." His strokes were long, thigh to knee, knee to thigh, smoothing over the place where her bottom ended and leg began, the top of his hand carelessly brushing against the area he spoke about. "Short of a pelvic exam every week, there is no way to be sure that all your insides match what is happening to your outside."
His breath teased her skin, so near the begging tips of her breasts. "A good alpha does not fuck an immature breeder. His semen can loosen her up, help relax tissue and muscles, but to take an immature breeder before her time can cause irreparable damage. It would be excessively painful."
He knelt in front of her and brought her foot high into his lap. Dragging the bucket nearer, he retrieved the cloth once more. Once it was wet and soapy again, he began to wash over her foot, wetting himself with the action.
Sasha's eyes widened as he purposely pressed the arch of her foot against the rigid, uncomfortable looking hard thing hidden under his pant leg.
He washed the other foot. He took his time, washing her heel, ankle, and instep, holding her firmly when he washed between her toes.
Her foot rubbed against that hardness again and again, but his face showed only intense concentration.
When he was finished with her feet, he got the hose.
His grin was cruel when he turned on the hose to spray her. He was very thorough with the cold water, rinsing her hands in the cuffs, her neck under her hair, blasting water in a decadent massage over her breasts that hurt and felt incredible at the same time, pouring water between that crease in her butt, and then parting her legs, shooting water between her folds, on her clit, and against the entrance to her womb.
Her growling outrage became another scream and earned her three hard spanks with a sharp admonishment for her trouble. She'd be bruised from those slaps.
She didn't care.
He turned the hose off and cleaned up his mess, gathering everything to take it out the door while she stood there, arms suspended and dripping, teeth chattering. Holding the towels, he surveye
d his work, eyes touching every part of her skin.
"Do you understand, Beauty?"
Breathing out, she baited him. "You don't want me."
They faced each other. He waited as if he had all the time in the world. Sasha felt parts of herself turning blue.
"You think I am a child."
Not blinking, not kicking up a foot to lean against the doorframe or bothering to grab a chair, Kane gave her his attention and his time. They had played this game before. He was done explaining. He'd wait as long as it took for the answer he wanted.
Kane's patience cooled her anger and made her meek. Sasha didn't know how, but she felt the change come over her. She'd have to figure out how he did that someday, how he won without words.
"I am not finished with my maturation. Therefore, I am not physically mature enough to take a husband-mate?"
He grunted.
Having washed her, he dried her, a vigorous rubbing and massage with a soft, fluffy cloth that was not a normal torture chamber accessory. When she was dry, he unbuckled her bindings, letting her groan as she lowered her arms, massaging her shoulders as she eased them down.
He stood close to her, wrapped her heavy, wet hair in a towel, and then looked her over again. He brushed the back of his hand over her mark twice, caressing her distended, swollen nipple, stilling her heartbeat, and forcing little sounds from her throat.
His hand went to the necklace that he'd asked her to wear. "I thought this would be enough." He tapped the medallion. "Twice my people have ignored it. I am sorry, Beauty, that my name did not protect you. I think we should get your mark re-inked on your hand, since breed only see what they expect to see. But it is your choice."
Unbuttoning his shirt, he dressed her in it and took her into his arms.
*
He sat down in the big chair and arranged Sasha in his lap, one of his arms curling around her, his hand open and resting very high on her naked thigh. With his other arm, he supported her shoulders, bringing her head to his neck, then drifting down to her bare legs.
She liked this room. It was the room where she first sat on his lap and ate from his hand. Here he was the private and unorganized Kane. It was the only place in his life where disorder existed. He didn't allow cleaners in here, obviously.
She hadn’t taken in much on her first visit here. The chair on which they sat was old, chosen for comfort rather than its looks. The carpet had a few mysterious stains and the table was covered with all sorts of everyday items from his life.
Now she was able to observe more. One wall was covered by a floor-to-ceiling bookcase stuffed with books and manuscripts. Another wall held a weathered painting of a landscape set in an ornate wood frame that looked as if it belonged in a museum. It held center stage against an assortment of pinned up photos and crude, childish drawings that blanketed the wall around it.
"I think I should sit over there." Sasha pointed at the other chair. Ten minutes ago, she had felt meek and agreeable. Now all her unanswered questions and concerns rushed back, bathing her in anxiety and again robbing her of her peace of mind. His lap was one of her favorite places in the world, yet she needed to leave it so she could think clearly.
Sara had told her she would be moody, but moody did not describe this up and down ride of uncertainty and crazy that felt like she was adrift in a tiny boat on too big stormy waves. Today alone she had experienced every emotion on the spectrum. Her own unbalanced behavior was making her sick.
Was she going to be like Maura? She didn't feel broken, not yet anyway. But how else could she explain her irrational choices?
It had seemed like the perfect idea to sneak away from the compound without telling anyone earlier, perfectly feasible to walk through the city unescorted, and perfectly right to ignore what Kane was saying with his actions since he wasn't saying what she wanted to hear with his words.
He had left her. It didn't matter that he had good reason to. She hadn't forgiven him for it yet.
He made her crazy. He made her want him, then hosed her down with ice water.
Sasha shifted, trying to get up. She didn't want to. She needed to. He didn't deserve her. This monster—with his hot, delicious golden skin and a smell that made her gums hurt—he didn't deserve the slick that was instantly pooling between her thighs at his touch.
Her nose touched the base of his throat. With a will of its own, her tongue tasted him. Just a tiny bit, then she'd move she promised herself.
Kane's groan boomed deep in his chest. His left hand on her thigh moved smoothly over the curve of her butt cheek and toward her spine. His hands were so big it felt like he could cradle her curves with just one of them. What would it look like, his big beast of a hand encompassing the round curves of her bottom? The image made her heart flutter and her slick drip.
Everything about Kane made her drip.
Sasha murmured, "I must be heavy. I should go sit in the other chair."
Kane grunted. His face was very close to hers. Sasha felt his breath on her mouth and she opened, tasting his exhalation. His left hand gently squeezed.
Pleasant tingles sparked in her belly and the base of her spine. Her nipples pinged as if he'd tweaked each one. Her muscles relaxed without her permission. Slick bathed his thigh.
"Fuck, Beauty. You have made me addicted. Soon I will be tasting that."
"I don't know what you can be addicted to. You have been gone, looking for Merrick and doing who-knows-what-else." She pushed at the wall of his chest. "I forgot you even lived here. I don't even know you."
She wanted to give into the impulse to dig in her claws in the pads of muscle and bite him. Never had she looked at a man and needed to bite him. The urge wasn't normal; it couldn’t be.
"From the moment we were in the car together. Fruit and salted honey. You have a feast for me, don't you?"
"I'm just a poor breeder girl from a poor sector. Someone seized all my holdings. I have nothing to offer."
"You are going to learn your worth if it's the last thing I do, Beauty." His hand rubbed and moved and squeezed down her leg, up her thigh, and around her butt.
Sasha moaned. More wet trickled from between her thighs. There was no pain from it now. His touch felt so right.
"You're making me mess. Please stop."
"Stop so you can be saved for your real mate? Are you still thinking of the Selection? You want one of your father's cronies?"
His free hand tugged at her wet hair. His mouth found that sensitive place where that hair connected with her scalp and he kissed the spot.
"I need to get back to my life. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself here. I don't know where I fit. You are the Warlord Alpha. I make good gin. I have people who depend on me. New flavors to invent. I want to try something besides fruit flavors. I have plans."
She watched her own hand move, tracing corded muscles and fingering through Kane’s sparse dark hairs. What would he think if she picked up his hand and sucked on his fingers?
He grabbed the data pad on his desk, opened a program, and scrolled to a list of names. Sasha wanted to tell him to put his hand back on her butt, to keep touching her there. She needn't have worried—he gave her the pad and his hand returned, reaching deeper, fingers going all the way to the crack.
Sasha panted. It felt nice, tickling just a bit, waking up skin that had never known touch. More, she moaned inwardly.
Biting her lip, she shut that down. She was not a harem girl. None of that from Sasha Dover.
"Look at the names."
What was he saying?
"That is your father's list. I will tell you a story. You won't believe me. But you can do the research and confirm everything I say on this data pad. It connects to Administration Libraries. Say you understand."
His fingers slipped down, just the tips, following her crack. Unable to form words, Sasha hummed. Those fingers snaked around from the back, over her thigh, and to her belly where his hand opened.
"Say you understand,
" he repeated.
"I understand."
"Now read the names. Out loud."
Sasha read the ten names out loud. A couple sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't recall why. The names on her father's list were all strangers.
Kane rubbed her belly in gentle circles, knuckles lightly caressing the underside of her breasts, stirring the curls at the top of her sex each time his revolutions passed low on her belly.
She was so proud of those curls. Her breeder body had frozen with childhood, sexless, until the pheromones of a true alpha woke her up. In three weeks’ time, she'd sprouted new hair everywhere, with Lilla and Lanny eager to remove it again.
But the soft, downy little curls on top of her mons made her a woman. She'd hurt anyone who tried to take them.
"Read the names, Sasha. I can't hear you," he chuckled.
Wet seeped from her. His pants would be ruined. She read through the names again to satisfy him.
"Do you have a preference?" he asked.
"What?"
"These are your father's men. Who would you pick?"
"I don't know. This is his list?" She glanced at the names again. If she wanted, she could have the Administration check to see that they were all still single. Breeders choose. None of them would turn her down. Not like the Alpha Warlord Constantine Kane.
"Did you know the top three names are three of my brothers?"
"My dad knew your brothers? Princes?"
An angry rumble snuck out of Kane's chest. His hand suddenly turned, cupped her breast, and squeezed.
Oh, someone help her. Sasha whimpered. Such an intimate touch. Personal. Private. His gentle touch felt amazing on her sore breasts, like his hands were meant to be there. She wondered if he would carry the heavy things for her, just walk behind her all day with her breasts in his big, wonderful hands.
"Sasha, I would kill my brothers before they ever got near the succession. I may one day have to. Do you know why? Sasha, are you listening?"
She wasn't. She covered his hands with hers. Maybe she could get him to soothe her nipples. Just put his fingers there, on the tips, pull a little bit.