Her Broken Alpha

by Isoellen

  "That's it, baby. Good girl. Drink me up."

  She took it all, so dedicated to her task that he had to pull her off, nearly laughing at the absurdity of the smacking sound she made. She whined when he disentangled himself, her noise increasing to a screech the moment he stepped off the bed.

  He reprimanded her with a bark, but she fussed in the nest like he might be leaving the sector and not just going to the door.

  "I’m getting food and water, Naya. Settle."

  As he brought in two big jugs of purified rainwater and the food he'd ordered, his eyes caught on the girl's registry mark. He'd need to look that up and find out who she was.

  Later.

  The insatiable little breeder tried to push him down and crawl on top of him again the second he came close enough, purring and smiling to convince him. Instead he gave her a sharp swat and turned her around, pulling her into his lap facing out.

  Centering his cock against her sweet, swollen pussy, he sat her down on it, guiding her hips to show her how to get herself off. Then he opened a hand against the dainty swell of her belly, thumb tucked under her tits and bottom claw at the top of her slit.

  Her hands went between her splayed thighs, pressing the length of him just where she wanted.

  With a mewl, she began to rock herself against his cock, rubbing the monstrous thing against the hardened swell of her clit. He'd thought himself deformed, but she seemed to love it.

  With his free hand, Darre demolished the platter of bloody meat. He fed Naya two little bites from his hand, knowing she didn't want it and too much would upset her stomach, but it pleased him to provide for her.

  After drinking his fill of water from the jug, he made her take it too until he thought she'd swallowed all she could.

  Her body moved the whole time, using him for her pleasure. He let her work herself up to a fevered pitch before moving her to her knees so he could get at her ass. Suddenly thankful for the elevated bed that kept it away from night beetles and other local pests, Darre realized he could stand behind her and be at the perfect height.

  Keeping her rear high, he licked all the sweet and salty slick from her, teasing at her engorged clit just for fun. She wouldn't get another orgasm until she was tied tight with his knot.

  It was pure delight to make her sing with need, to take what he wanted, how he wanted, when he wanted—to keep her at his mercy. Whenever she thought to get ahead of herself and be demanding, he'd stop and give her nothing but his breath, ghosting over desperate nerve endings.

  "Pretty breeder. Worthy mate. You get what I give you."

  "Need you, Monster. Need you,” she keened, fisting the bedding.

  "What do you need, Naya?"

  "Inside."

  "What do you need?" he repeated.

  "Hurts."

  "Does it, treasure? Does it hurt?" His voice roughened as the monster gained control. He looked at his claws on her hips, the dimples they made in her skin, the marks they'd leave.

  Seeing the contrast of his monster against her submissive, well-bred form made his head spin. He had to hold his hands just so or risk piercing her dewy, perfect hide.

  He'd had regular male fingernails until after losing Alennie. One day he’d shed them, hand and foot, and these thicker black things had grown in their place—another gift of the monster.

  "Need you. Need you. Need you!" she rambled. "Hurts. Make it stop. Please? Alpha, please."

  Darre drew a claw down the crack of her ass and over the puckered flower of her anus to the wet, ripe slice of fruit that was her slit.

  While there was no sensation for him, he couldn't take his eyes off the sight of his ugly, lethal talons scraping up and down, parting her folds.

  "Settle, treasure. Settle. What do you need from me? I'm right here. The monster is right here."

  "Inside."

  "What inside? Where inside? Such a fine little breeder princess you are. Bet all the bucks were lining up at your door for the smell of you. Did they bring you flowers? Pretty baubles from the Un? Sweets in pretty packages? Did they dress up in shirts with buttons and douse themselves in cologne so you couldn't smell how much they wanted to fuck you on the floor in your father's house?

  “Now here you are in the dirty monster's bed, and you don't have any polite words for me? You buck your hips and try to make me do what you want, but that isn't how this works. I don't have any nice pressed shirts, and no one has the time for flowers in my sector."

  Frustrated that she couldn't get closer, couldn't make him penetrate her, she started crying just for need of his dick. How fun it was to play with her, to show her who he really was—that there was no escaping him, knowing she had chosen him.

  He doubled over her back, reached under her, and fondled her tempting, dangling tits. He needed to get a mirror in here so he could watch her, see every part of her.

  "Are you angry with me?"

  "No, baby. Not at all. Not even a little. You are amazing. So perfect. How could I be angry?"

  "Why, then? Please. Hurts. Need you!”

  The rusty sound in his chest was an evil chuckle. "Use. Your. Words. Tell me what you want, Naya. Where you want it. How you want it."

  The words burst out of her, "Fuck my pussy hard, Monster. Please. Please. Fill me hard. Mate me. Fill me with your seed."

  "Yes-s-s-s,” Darre hissed. He stood behind her, messed up her fine nest, and pulled bedding out from underneath her.

  They would be in this position for a while.

  Chapter Eight

  Naya

  The hungry twisting of her belly woke Naya. She hadn't eaten real food in weeks.

  Love of good food was the one thing she shared with the women of her family, both eating it and preparing it. Right this minute, she imagined a plate of assorted butter pastries with crispy, flaky layers that melted in her mouth and centers of nuts and fruit jams. She'd have dark, aromatic tea to go with it, so well-steeped that her tongue curled with the bitterness ready to be tamed with cream and honey.

  After she had her sweet, she'd have something healthy like the fruit and herb salad their cook made daily, or tissue-thin slices of cured beef arranged in perfect rolls and stuffed with goat cheese and wrapped in a sweet cabbage leaf.

  She was body-hurt hungry. She couldn't move to stretch out her kinks or find her many sore spots of scraped skin and hard-used muscle, because the alpha held her too tightly against him. He had one hand under her chin and cradling her neck, the other over her mound with fingers between her thighs, and his big thing inside her, working his hips in shallow, tight movements.

  He wasn't making her beg or trying to make her come. Naya was thankful. Her guts hurt. She was bruised inside and out. She wanted to eat and wash, fix the nest again, and sleep for a year—in that order.

  Her heat must have ended. As if a switch had been flipped, the demanding need no longer called to her quite as loudly. She no longer felt overheated, and the under-the-skin itch was gone.

  But Monster would do things. Growl at her. Touch her. Torment her. Her body responded no matter the hurt, hunger, or exhaustion. Her heat might be over, but his rut showed no sign of slowing.

  She was likely pregnant. With his biological imperative fulfilled, some sanity should have returned to his predator brain. They would still mate daily, but this hourly business should be done with. It should have stopped yesterday or the day before.

  Without a clock or a window, it was impossible for her to tell time, but Naya felt certain her heat had lasted at least three days. This was day five of the fuck marathon.

  At home she had planned for the average estrus cycle. Her room had two windows, a wall clock, and a little glass clock on the table next to the bed. Her mother would have brought food and water, and on the third day, Mother would take Naya to bathe, eat a light meal, and get ready for the bonding ceremony. Her father and one of Crispin's family members would have taken him to do the same.

  Everyone would have been there to celebrate with t
hem.

  Here—wherever here was—she was with an alpha who wouldn't stop humping her. There would be no ceremony. No light meal or her preferred butter-heavy meal. No family.

  What had she done?

  Naya didn't know anything about this alpha—not his real name, not his family connections, and not even where he worked. She didn't know where he lived or where they were now. She didn't know anything, and she had given him not only her bond, but her breeder’s blessing. An irrevocable connection had been formed between them.

  "Mmm,” he hummed in her ear. His hand at her breast gently squeezed, rubbing her nipple against his callused palm. "Settle, my little thing. Settle."

  He purred, a beautiful, deep velvet rumble that turned her to mush every time. He'd known she was getting upset.

  "I'm hungry, Monster. Can I have some food?"

  "In a minute. Lemme finish this knot. This one last time. Then feed you."

  She closed her eyes. "Not with... Not with your cock, Alpha. I want actual food. My heat is over. I need a proper meal. Can your cook make a tuber milk soup? Or butter pastries? Maybe there's a shop?"

  He laughed low—it wasn't one of his nice ones. "No tuber milk soup. No pastries, treasure. Not here. Will get you some chicken soup or something. Just after this knot. You feel so good. So tight. Go so fucking deep."

  She winced. "Do you have to do that?"

  "Do what?"

  "Use those ugly, crass words?"

  Another laugh at her expense, as if he knew something that would embarrass her and he couldn't wait to see it happen. "Oh, my princess. Sweet, sweet little princess."

  "Don't make fun of me," Naya said testily.

  He worked his hand between her thighs, finding her clit and waking it with his fingers. Even though she was also bruised there, it still felt lovely and made her blood sing. Very conscious of his claws, she opened her thighs, stretching her top leg backwards over his to grant him better access.

  "It’s so difficult not to tease you, treasure. You don't know whose den you are in or the kind of place you now live. It's been years since I have met naïveté and ignorance such as yours."

  "I was kidnapped. Drugged. Then my heat. How can you…"

  She trailed off with a moan. It hurt, but it also felt good as he thrust his hips a little harder in tandem with his hands now that his knot had shrunk.

  "I can do whatever I please, treasure. Do you know who kidnapped you?"

  He made it hard for her to talk. Her answer got trapped between bad hurts and good hurts. He pulled his cock out of her with a flood of come.

  "I'd like to know who plucked a princess from her tower and sent her to the sector of the damned."

  "I don't know."

  Monster slid his hand over her mound. "You probably do know." His words landed heavy in the air. The thought that someone had betrayed her grieved him.

  She wanted to reassure him that this was not the case, but his hands were doing things. Gods help her. Would it ever stop?

  "Can you come for me again, treasure?" he wanted to know.

  He brought her to three more orgasms before she was too exhausted to think more about his questions.

  *

  The smell of chicken broth woke her.

  Her head was in Monster’s lap, and he tugged at her hair. "I've never seen curly hair like this.”

  "It's not fashionable."

  His lips twisted in a sneer that told her what he thought about fashion.

  With aggressive features dominated by his broken nose and squared-off chin, and his eyes a solid black, his sneers and scowls were apt to make her quake in fear.

  Yet the happy, content thrum in her chest told her she had nothing to fear from him.

  His shoulder-length hair stuck out in all directions and his beard had thickened to abrasive bristles over the course of her heat. He appeared to be an untamed beast from the faraway Un.

  But the bond connecting them said she had tamed him. He was her monster now.

  Taking the male in, she could see evidence of his maturity at his chin where white hairs interspersed with the black. Even her father didn't have gray hair. On one side of his thickly corded neck, the black tattoos on his arm swirled up in a stylized tempest of flames.

  Many males came home from their time in the Administration army with tattoos. Her brothers had said they always held meaning, but she couldn't fathom what his meant.

  His shoulders looked wide and strong and capable. Below his clavicle sat the neat circle of her mark. She had been reaching for higher. There were other red marks in the area too. She'd nipped and bitten the space whenever it came near her mouth.

  His hands roamed her body, touching, possessing, and reaching to clasp her throat. Killing her would be easy for him just with that one hand. He'd hardly have to flex the beefy muscles of his arm.

  But murder wasn't on his mind. He tilted her head back a little, fathomless black eyes centered on her lips.

  "Fuck. I haven't even properly kissed you, have I?" he asked.

  She didn't remember.

  "Something to do later." His lips curled up just a little. She thought she saw a dimple wink at her from his cheek. "You hungry, or you want more dick?"

  She couldn't help but wince at the word choice.

  "Food. Real people food. Please."

  "Alright then." He got off the bed to get a tray from nearby while she sat up. Setting it next to him, he motioned to his lap, waiting.

  This seemed like something they had done a couple of times. It felt familiar.

  He put her in his lap and made it feel good while he gave her water. She was too sore for the good feelings right now. The idea of more made her want to cry, but her body crawled into position, anyway.

  "Poor little Naya. You’ve been used so hard, haven't you? You let a monster work you over." He crooned. "I can see you need to eat. You've lost weight, I think."

  "I needed to anyway,” she told him.

  "And where would you lose it? Those perfect tits? Your plush ass? Fuck no. And don't say your belly. You had a sweet curve there and I want it back. Whoever has told you that you are anything but fuckably perfect is a liar. Probably a beta bitch or some other jealous female. You don't listen to those lies anymore."

  He insisted on feeding her a meal of chicken with potatoes in a meaty broth with piles of pickled greens.

  She felt dominated and taken care of at the same time. The soup was good, the pickled greens were not, but she ate everything he put in her mouth.

  When the tray was empty, he took her throat in that possessive grip again and tipped her head back.

  "Every inch of you is beautiful." There was such wonder in his words she couldn't help but smile, happy and embarrassed at the same time. "You have the clearest green eyes I think I've ever seen. Like gems."

  He worked his thumb over her cheek, then used it to tap her lips. "A couple of rules, treasure. I know you're not from here. You're in a dangerous world now. You stay in this room unless you are with me. No exceptions. You get me? Say it back to me so I know you understand."

  She frowned. The restriction sounded like he planned to keep her jailed. She'd had enough of that.

  Tapping her lips again, he made a disapproving sound. "Uh-uh. Non-negotiable. You stay in this room unless you are with me. Say it."

  "I stay in this room unless I am with you." Her voice was small, unhappy.

  "Good. Every male here is unmated and dangerous. I will protect you, and I will kill them, but that don't mean shit when some of them have never smelled a breeder. They may think making a play for you is worth their lives."

  The statement was shocking. Where was she? Had she fallen asleep for years and woken up in the savage past?

  "You take nothing from anyone else—no clothing, no food, no crap of any kind. I don't care if a child hands you a rock. Not that you will see any kids, but I don't care who or what it is. There are no qualifiers. You get me? Say it, treasure."

  She repeated,
"I take nothing from anyone else."

  "Good girl. Don't be giving anything, either. Credits are scarce here. People trade, barter, gift. Sometimes what you think is a gift was just a chance for you to owe someone for something later. I bet you have a breeder's bleeding heart too." He raised his eyebrows in question. "You try to give someone something, they will think you’re trying to gain leverage."

  "Okay."

  "Last rule: Don't get in the way of how I do things. You do, you'll be punished. Actually, go ahead and get in the way. I wouldn't mind punishing you. Might be fun."

  Naya didn't understand how punishment was fun or why he looked so wolfish when he said it. His hands were getting busy again and his cock felt hard.

  He was relentlessly ready. From what she knew about reproduction, male cocks didn't stay in this stiff state, but Monster was always rigid, always ready for more.

  Pulling her up by the throat, he inhaled against her skin before opening his mouth on the sore spot between her neck and shoulder blade.

  Naya whimpered.

  "Thank you for the food. Can we sleep? Will you sleep with me?"

  "Wanna kiss you, lick you, taste you. Monster wants to eat up his girl."

  At his words her womb gave a weak, agreeable pulse, but she just needed a moment to catch her breath. "Please, Monster? Lie down and let me feel you? Sleep with me, keep me safe?"

  She tried to make it sound more appealing than going to the effort of putting his cock in her again.

  "Poor baby. Worked you so hard. Go ahead, lie down. Get comfortable." He moved her to her stomach, but didn't lie beside her. Kissing the back of her neck and across her shoulders, he purred more for her, loosening all her muscles and making her forget how sore she was.

  Closing her eyes, she let that purr help her drift away.

  Monster was moving, the bed rocking. She was on a raft in a peaceful lake. And then his hands, covered in warm fluid, were rubbing down her spine. The musky spice-cake smell of him bloomed strong in her nose as he started working her tired muscles, hunting down knots and stress and working them to malleable softness.