More pain than pleasure. Gushing. Quaking deep, it came from her abused cervix. Bowing her spine in spite of the massive weight of the male covering her, she jolted beneath him. Cumming hard enough on his thick spear to make him still as she clenched. Over and over the waves of beautiful agony pounded into her, stealing her breath. Her vision. Turning her every available sense to the cock pounding her into gooey Omega mush.
“Please,” she rasped, her voice strained and utterly unrecognizable. “M-More! Harder, Alpha! PLEASE!”
He pulled out, ending what was promising to be a life-altering fuck with a snarl and an unforgiving slap against her ass.
Chapter 8
Renegade snarled—cheek squashed against the leaves, teeth gritty with detritus—but was refused by her own body. Limbs askew, still twitching with the fragments of a stolen orgasm, she was rendered fat over a cooking fire. Jello. Pliable.
“You thieving, son of a pussy-licking whore!” she rasped, ass-up. Leathers ripped right down her crack to expose a cunt dripping with slick, and slick alone. No Alpha sperm to soothe that cervix-deep ache, Feral or no. “Get back here and give me that knot, or so help me you mindless brute, I’ll chew it clean off!”
The Feral Alpha settled his back against the trunk of a tree, tail tucked between his cheeks to avoid taking an anus-full of the forest floor. Cock pulsing proud and unspent against his belly.
He didn’t speak a word—couldn’t, being the ruined Feral he was. But his meaning was clear nevertheless.
Hop on and ride it if you want that Alpha knot.
Teeth bared, she crawled through the dirt. Ass swaying, leathers flapping, she crawled like the cum drunk little slut she was. Shameless, for what could she possibly be embarrassed about in front of one such as he? A Feral ruined by the Trax couldn’t judge anyone, least of all an Omega female who’d survived this long beyond the Krust.
So she crawled, licking at his calves with each inch gained. Tonguing at the salty skin of a man, moving up. Toward that proud slab of meat dripping with slick. Positively marinated in it. And then Renegade grew inspired. Figured out how to manipulate her Feral Alpha and gained a confidence preternaturally denied to most Omegas within the Krust.
When she got to his knees, she set her dainty little teeth. Pinching and teasing the inside of his thighs without breaking skin. Bathing the nip of hurt with the flat of her tongue, before moving higher. Always higher. Seeking the pulsing treasures nestled in his groin. And because she so seldom got to suck on a man’s nuts, she gobbled those up first. Pulling salty, pliant flesh into the heat of her mouth. Swishing first his left, then right testicle around that moist cavern. Reveling in the flinch that saw his meaty fist buried in her mane, driving her face deeper between his legs.
Renegade heard what he didn’t say. Lathering his sack in spittle aplenty, she rooted around until she needed breath. Gasping against his thigh, she panted. Breathing his musk. Submitting to the ancient call to rut, for no other reason than to stop him from blinding her with that impossible chuff.
But the Feral wasn’t done. When he’d deemed she’d had enough oxygen, he lifted her head and mashed his knob against her lips. Forcing her to open in spite of the danger to his most sensitive bits, or maybe because of it.
Hungry—more so than she’d ever been—Renegade let him in. Eager for that splash of salty cum, she set her jaws to open as far as they’d go, and let him work his dick toward the back of her throat. Swallowed when he got there, and exhaled against his belly. Not bothering to master her gag-reflex, but loving that he worked her throat regardless. That he forced it deeper, deep as she could take it without practice, and didn’t care that she coughed and spluttered. Making her soak his balls and clenching asshole in drool aplenty.
Lubing him up.
He couldn’t cum like that, not until he’d given over to the Canicule. Not until his pupils swallowed that Feral gold and his nuts were drawn into the cage of his pelvis. But he could leak precum. He could feed his thirsty captured Omega a hint of what his balls wouldn’t release, and feed her he did.
Hips pumping, he fucked her throat. Stretching her gullet with each selfish thrust, he pulled raunchy gleck, gleck, gleck sounds straight from her gut. Picking up speed until those sounds all blended together in one constant stream of wet and debauched, before easing off. Working her esophagus at his leisure, no matter the strings of drool, the tears, or the snot.
Teeth bared, fingers bruising her scalp, the Feral Alpha tipped his head back and set his heels. Setting up for a better angle, before redoubling his efforts to reach the bottom of her guts.
Renegade could only take it. Could do nothing but convince herself she loved being throated, and ignore her lungs as they screamed for air. The sounds and scents drew an abundance of slick from her core, sent it spilling over her thighs to puddle on the forest floor between her knees.
This.
This was a male worthy of her submission. This male who didn’t ask, didn’t even speak. Merely took what he wanted and punished her for denying it.
This was the only male she’d ever come across capable of taming her wildling spirit, and he had yet to even feed her his sperm.
And so it was that Renegade wished she could cum from callous treatment alone. Wished she wasn’t a slave to her Canicule, but could lay with whomever she chose. Could make them cum with skill alone and not because they were drunk on pheromones and saturated pussy. Wished she could sneak a finger into the Feral’s asshole and stroke his prostate until he spilled down her throat.
It wasn’t to be, for the Feral had plans of his own.
Sick plans, to be sure, but plans they were.
Forcing her to take him almost to the root, the Feral stretched her windpipe. The click, click, click of his dick descending down, over the ridges of cartilage lining her throat, doing little to remind her just how vulnerable she really was, for Renegade was lost. Couldn’t purr her satisfaction, or worry about the Trax.
There was nothing but the urge to bury her nose in the thick nest of pubes and give until she couldn’t.
When she was deep as she could go, the Feral released her mane and slipped the thumb of his free hand under the tight seal of her lips around his dick. Breaking the air-tight seal with a hiss, he wriggled that digit in, until the knuckle sat between her back molars.
Beginning to see black stars, Renegade tried to pull back. Instinctive. Trying to fill her lungs, even with a mighty Alpha paw on the back of her head. She glanced up, trying to ask him why. Pleading with her eyes, even as he remained buried to the root.
When he lifted his left leg and trapped her there between his spread thighs—draping the weight of that muscular limb over her back—she began to understand. He wanted her pinned. Wanted his hand free to wander.
And wander it did. As Renegade began to lose strength, the Feral Alpha did the last thing she’d ever expect.
He reached down, toward her asscheeks, and scraped his thumbnail over the stump of her docked tail.
Nerves totally overwhelmed, she came screaming a gargled scream of one whose voice box couldn’t access air. Her orgasm came hot and violent, oxygen deprivation heightening another rush of slick that didn’t merely ooze from her swollen cunt lips. It exploded from her core, spraying his toes and hers in a wild gush of desperate pussy and neglected flesh.
She didn’t stop squirting even when he too began to cum. It shouldn’t have been possible. He shouldn’t have been able to loose his spend at all without her Canicule winding through his blood, but there was no arguing with the salty sperm pouring down her throat.
And then Renegade became aware of exactly why he’d jammed a knuckle between her teeth. The taste of his semen overflowing her flooded throat sent her into teeth-gnashing convulsions that would have surely seen him rendered eunuch, if not for that quick thinking. That practiced maneuver. But orgasm initiated, the Feral pulled back, either allowing her to breathe, or simply wanting to paint her ton
gue in his cum, she didn’t know. Didn’t care.
Merely wanted more.
Renegade drank until he pushed her back, panting. Seated back on her haunches, she licked herself clean, purring as loud as her ravaged throat could go, she lapped up every fucking drop of that cum. Then met his golden, Feral eyes.
“Now it’s my turn, Alpha.”
Chapter 9
Renegade rolled her hips as she approached. An effect that would have held a lot more seduction if her tail hadn’t been docked, but it didn’t matter. Not now, with this broken Alpha staring her down, pumping his thick dick with one hand. Kneading his sack with the other.
She watched his fist, licking her lips. Tongue capturing the last drop of his pearly spend. And then, swiping her hand through the slick saturating her aching cunt, Renegade offered the Feral Alpha her Canicule. Palms up. To take it straight from an Omega’s hand was an honor bestowed upon chosen mates, and no other. An offer Renegade made without conscious thought, for this Alpha had worn her down. Chased and hunted until her muscles were too hot. Languid with the thrill of the take down, begging to be exhausted in stickier, more enjoyable ways. Drunk on pheromones and semen and everything else base and uncivilized.
But the Feral Alpha chuffed. Belly flexing in a violent, internal lurch, he sent Renegade to cower on her knees.
Rejecting the splash of cream the Omega female offered.
He stood, taking a fistful of her mane as he went. Tail lashing from left to right, disappearing behind his thick thighs, the Feral loomed over her. Making her feel her caste and her gender without so much as a single spoken word. It was all there behind those yellow Feral eyes.
He meant to have her. And he meant it to be his way.
Stroking a drop of precum over glistening helm, he again laced fingers about her throat. Growling, vibrating the air between them as he worked, he appeared to hesitate. A certain calculated confusion glimmered in that golden gaze. As if he couldn’t decide how he wanted to have her first.
But Renegade knew. She always knew.
Mewling, lips parting on an anxious pant, she reached for his dick. Clasped her hand over his and helped him jerk off. Slowly, at first, but gaining speed. Looking for any sign that the Feral was going to do the impossible—again—and cum all over her belly without tasting the Canicule. Wanting exactly that.
His face, however, remained impassive. Unmoved by her effort to tempt him. A smudge of dirt disguised a thunderous brow. Making his glower all the more severe, which in turn sent slick dripping down Renegade’s thighs. His nose bowed in the middle, previously broken, perhaps several times, yet it merely added to what she was beginning to see as rugged beauty. Masculine, all sharp angles and brooding lines.
He didn’t give her time to stare, but stripped. Sent those tattered leathers over thickly muscular ass, and kicked free of the restriction keeping their skin separate. Tearing his shirt half over his head, half just off, he left the fragments to float away on the gentle breeze, then chuffed at Renegade once more.
“Please,” she gasped, collapsing in on herself. Trying to show the massive Alpha male her submission was bought and paid for without the tuck of her tail between her legs. “Please, Alpha. Don’t torment me. No more.”
The Feral offered a wolfish grin, then lifted her with one hand on the scruff of her neck, the other winding behind her left thigh. Grip tight, he draped her leg over his hip, teeth snapping when Renegade wrapped slender arms about his neck and worked her hips over his thick, polished glans.
“Please,” she whispered, voice laced with a pretty little Omega purr. “Fuck me, Alpha. Take the Canicule. Please! It—” her voice broke on a whine. “It hurts. I need it.”
He spared not an instant for elegance, stuffing her full with hands bruising her hips. Knob spearing deep, only stopping when he bumped that final gate that positively would not open but for an Alpha drunk on rut. Not even the old ways spoke of an Alpha who could break that fundamental rule, and so too did this Feral Alpha find himself denied.
Snarling, he tried to force himself deeper. Tried to tunnel into her womb and plant his seed.
But no matter his determination, he was refused.
For her part, Renegade was so full of Feral meat she could scarcely draw breath, let alone beg and scream for more. Could only buck her hips and submit to being impaled.
But even a stolen orgasm couldn’t contend with the urge to give over to the Canicule. Even an impossible, rule-breaking Alpha couldn’t satisfy an Omega in heat if he refused to take what the ancients wanted him to take. So Renegade threw her head back, thrilled by the cock mashed against her womb, by that thick thing trying to gain forced entrance.
Thrusting her chest forward succeeded in catching his gaze, his golden eyes raking the pebbled nubs of all six of her nipples. If it weren’t for the handfuls of ass he’d claimed, Renegade knew he’d be tormenting her poor, neglected beads.
So she did what he cold not.
Working with her left hand, she trusted her Feral Alpha to continue his assault on her cervix, trusted him to enjoy that moist, slick heat more than the primal urge to see her hands on his skin and nowhere else. But when she dipped lower? Forefinger circling her protruding clit? He chuffed, making her cum on the spot.
Fingers whipping over her bean, Renegade sprayed his groin with an unnatural amount of slick. Made all the worse when his thumbnail scored that bundle of nerves where her tail had been. Making her spine arch and flex as she took it from below, for that bundle of nerves had never healed quite right. Touching a tail stub was intimate. Personal on a level usually never seen beyond the Krust, as mating bonds rarely lasted long enough to secure that level of familiarity. For that Feral Alpha to take such a liberty was just taboo enough to make her fucking squirt. Again.
Renegade came until her eyes rolled back, feeling her cervix recoil and rebound with each blunt impact of Alpha cock. Fingers fanning female cum all over their bellies, she bucked and writhed. Impaled and terribly, terribly vulnerable.
Loving every twisted, wrong second. Not giving a goddamn about the Trax, about the risk of raising kits beyond the Krust, or about the pack she’d claimed and abandoned. Renegade was nothing more than a warm hole for the Feral to abuse.
And yet, in that haze, the wildling female refused to submit.
In that moment, cumming apart at the seams with a Feral Alpha scratching at her tail nub, she had the forethought to scoop up a liberal serving of her frothy slick, and fill her mouth.
Humming depraved satisfaction, Renegade let her eyes roll back. Focused on making her dainty Omega purr carry, the Queen beyond the Krust put on a show.
Sweat beading on his brow, the Feral chuffed. The ancient sound sending her into orgasm anew, but she could hear it. The jealousy. The tortured self-denial as he watched her taste what he’d refused.
Renegade wasn’t cruel—not… unnecessarily, anyway. She merely knew what she wanted, and didn’t stop until she got it.
And when she spread her puffy cuntlips to expose the obscene stretch of that Feral cock sinking into her, she made sure to saturate her digits with more.
The sound that served as his purr rattled inside her skull. Deep and ragged, his purr was a thing unused. His paltry effort at appeasing the little female who bucked and begged astride his cock.
But still, enough of Renegade remained to put on her show. Sucking her index into her mouth, she returned that fractured purr. Pulling her digit from her lips with a lewd pop! Only to turn her next two fingers on the rutting Alpha. Watching with the sort of satisfaction that went deeper than his pounding dick, Renegade waited for him to open, then painted his tongue. Watched his pupils expand at his first taste of Canicule. Not swallowing the gold, as was seen in lesser males, yet dilating enough to mark him as changed.
Enslaved to her frothy cunt.
The Feral roared, leaving bruises on her hips as he worked her over his meat. Slamming into her depths with wild, self
ish abandon. Uncaring if his pinned female followed him into blissful spasm, he finally submitted to the rut. Head back, he howled his release, not stopping their wild fuck even as he began to empty his balls. Pulsing and spraying, he filled her with copious jets of sperm. Sperm that bounced harmlessly off the roof of her cunt, and dripped down. To coat the sack that drew into his pelvis, even as he emptied himself.
Only able to plant three quarters into her sheath might well be what saved Renegade from taking what she felt swelling between her cheeks.
The Feral’s knot bloomed hot and hard against her ass, pulsing with each jet of cum he sent rocketing inside her. Monstrous. It’s girth terrified the Omega who couldn’t stop cumming. Who let a Feral, Trax-infected Alpha plant himself inside her cunt at the dawn of her breeding days—those dangerous days where her womb thirsted for seed and there was nothing but the rut.
But she’d dodged that brutal punishment, and set her mind to milking his knot for every drop he had to give. Claiming her due straight from the seat of his loins.
When it was over, neither could do anything but pant. Dripping a torrent of cum, sweat, and slick, the unlikely pair took a moment to enjoy the twitching glow they’d worked so hard to attain.
In the distance, an enraged howl, followed by one, then five more.
Silver’s pack. Come to challenge the biggest Alpha she’d ever seen, and she, spread and creamed by a male who didn’t bear her mark.
Chapter 10
Renegade knew she’d done a thing there was no punishment for. In trading pack for a loner, she’d betrayed that sacred mating bond she’d never wanted in the first place.
But six on one? Against this loner? This Feral Alpha sick with Trax whose clinging, bruising hands didn’t speak of one who’d come for an easy fuck and nothing else. No. She’d probably just enslaved herself to a Feral with nothing in his wasted brain except to fuck and fight.
Conquering the Renegade Omega WIDE Page 3