by Addison Cain
These were not reasonable men. Caspian had only ever lied to her, stolen her child, had him beaten, used her body, marked her without permission.
And that very male was rising out of his chair, unfolding slowly to his full, massive height.
Still the pile of credit chips was far more daunting.
All that food sat like a weight in her belly, churning with her heart until Wren felt sweat gather at her temples. The last unbalanced chip fell from the pile, that horrible music over, and lavender eyes broke away to fall, lost, on the approaching First.
Signing, aware she was completely ridiculous, she asked. “What do I do with it?”
“You’ll have to write it down, mouse.” Just like the slate she’d used in her lost home to speak with him, Caspian produced a panel and chalk.
An entire piece of unbroken, unused, precious chalk.
She wrote down her question, the male ignoring the stink of anger wafting from Kieran as he answered. “You sold yourself to me. I don’t care what you do with it.”
Mikael could go to school like a normal kid. He could sleep above the filth and dirt. He wouldn’t have to scavenge or steal. Alec could rule the world with that pile of sin.
“You won’t take it away?”
Pulling Wren from where she’d wedged herself between the wall and the Second, Caspian said, “Kieran, leave the room. Go to the pen, fuck off the rut, and deal with your new mate before I get another complaint.”
Clenched teeth, real, acrid rage. “This bitch told me she returned for her boys.”
Caspian cocked his head, eyes narrowed. “She did. The money is for the boys.” Putting a hand to Wren’s shoulder, his next words were for her. “And there won’t be any further hard feelings. Isn’t that right, Jax?”
Her heart was bursting with hard feelings, chalk dashing over slate so she might scratch out her growing fear, “I still need to see them.”
Large fingers pinched a lock of white hair, mud-brown eyes indulgent as he toyed. “On occasion, unless you give me reason to refuse. Try to run, hide from me, and I’ll make sure you never see your boys ever again. You are bought and paid for now. No more negotiations.”
Coming back to the waterworks had been a death sentence after all.
She would die here. Just not today.
Meanwhile, her boys would have a real chance, not that she wanted to approach, touch, or horde that pile of wealth that would secure it for them.
“It’s only money, girl.”
Only money? That was a life sentence combined with an actual chance for survival. It was beyond comprehension to someone who’d never had more than ten credits in her hand ever.
“You were supposed to be grateful.”
She might not get murdered in the Warrens for that pile of money, but lifting that silver dome—the one that was no doubt dented from the fall—was the death of her. This was it, really it.
Her body had been sold for tangible payment, and it felt far more weighty than any claiming mark.
Forehead settling to Caspian’s chest, drawing in the scent of him, seeking comfort from the jabbing blend of feeling, Wren closed her eyes to all of it.
Stroking her hair, Caspian offered a light purr, neither overly indulgent nor manipulative. It was just there, like his heartbeat was there.
Without the weight of terrible threat hanging over her children, the exchange felt different. More normal.
Even natural.
But only a fool would let herself enjoy it. It could be days, it could be months, but Caspian would find another new girl to trick, spoil, and fuck. He would get bored of a complacent, damaged Omega.
Lashes lifted, one final breath of perfect Alpha, and Wren sold her dreams for the bright future of her boys. With a smile, she pulled back, held out her hand, and struck a bargain with a veritable monster.
It wasn’t a handshake the male sought to seal their deal. Lips brushing hers, he murmured. “Good girl.”
Chapter 11
Silk. Spider silk as pale as moonlight caught Caspian in a web he’d gladly tangle around his limbs. Around his cock. Fuck, it would feel incredible stroking his cock.
Running over his hips while he pushed her head down his shaft.
Their last mating had been vulgar in its transience. One frenzied thrust before the knot he’d fought to produce for a goddamn week burst forth. Flooding her so soon had left the taste of heaven on his tongue, even if she had been coated in filth, and stinking of sickness.
Tasting her now, blood pumped into an overly swollen cock, the teeth of his zipper barely contained what pulsated and wept. Had Rosie’s lips been stretched around such girth as Caspian had watched the pretty mouse eat, he would have cum each time the female sighed. He would have broken Rosie’s jaw with his knot when the mouse moaned.
As it was, an astonishing amount of fluid had built up in his sack. It felt as if it sloshed when he pressed closer to his greatest treasure, that it churned. Had his pants not held back his prick, it would have bounced with each pulse of blood in his veins.
He was going to hurt his mouse. There was no stopping it.
Not after the hours Caspian had let build between them. Not after her sweet sighs over the feast he’d provided.
For two full days Kieran had been allowed to keep her despite neglecting his duties.
For good reason. Caspian wanted his mouse to be grateful to return to her true owner, her First owner. He wanted to measure her expression of relief when the handsome one no longer had first claim.
It was so rare a victory Caspian might lord over his Second.
Mission accomplished. Kieran reeked of covetous agitation and his mouse had indeed arrived no longer wearing the betrayal that had pinched her brows when last he’d been buried in her.
Two days with the cruelest of them had washed her clean of her animosity, but not of Kieran’s scent… or the Second’s terrible choice in clothing.
That fucking dress covering his mouse was the stuff of nightmares. Where Kieran had even found a garment like that down here, Caspian could only imagine. His whores sure as hell didn’t sport matronly shit.
This was the costume old mated Alphas demanded their Omegas wear in public. The dress of a wife who was to be acknowledged but not physically appreciated by others. Breeding Omegas only displayed their beauty for their mates.
If it was a joke, Kieran lacked the quirk to his smile usually accompanying his tricks. Instead his body language was aggressive—fists balled, jaw clenched, his green-eyed glare on the female obediently allowing Caspian the feel of her mouth.
Until that covetous gaze drifted to where Caspian stared even while sampling the parted lips of his mouse.
Fingers slipping to cradle the back of her skull, Caspian played the gentle lover a few moments longer, measuring the Second’s reaction. Amazed, he found blatant challenge in his subordinate’s low, unguarded growl.
Breaking from kiss-reddened lips, from an enticed female bearing half-conquered slowly expanding pupils, the First met the unspoken challenge. “Kieran?”
“I’ll watch.” Gruff, lacking all proper deference, his Second widened his stance.
After delivering her still reeking of Kieran’s cum, there was no fucking way such behavior would be rewarded.
Hell, even Toby had been removed from the equation for this calculated reunion—sent off with the perfect prey. Down in the bowels of the pipeworks, the Third was creaming his pants tormenting the instigator of a sorry power grab.
The failed assassin would be an interesting corpse to view once the Third was done with him—for aside from the sweet scent wafting from the slickening pussy before him, Toby’s greatest joy lay in well-thought-out torture.
Acquiescing when Caspian drew her head to his chest, his mouse inhaled deeply, nosing his chest in the exact way he both adored and despised. Flawless female submission before Kieran, her obvious enjoyment of his scent—despite any unpurged anger—led Caspian to smile.
His
rugged, scarred face, the wrinkles collected at the corners of his eyes, she preferred him anyway. And she always had.
Always would.
This Caspian broadcasted in the meanness of his grin. In the blatant demand of his glare.
At her little noise once his scent hit the back of her throat, another wave of backed up seed inflated his sack, threatened to break down his cock. Caspian growled, dominant, virile, and already lost completely to the rut. “Leave.”
There was a reason Kieran held the rank of Second. He was not one to be fucked with. “I hold second claim.”
Cock twitching, bleeding precum to the point his trousers and the Omega’s belly were sticky with fluid, Caspian fisted the Omega’s glorious hair. Baring her covered throat to his lips, he licked where her jaw met the unpierced lobe of an ear, watching his Second’s every tick. “No one challenged that point.”
Teeth clenched, eye twitching, Kieran stated a tired fact. “Our agreement was that I breed her in estrous.”
“She’s not in estrous.” More importantly, there was a little doll made up to look like the mouse. A doll tucked away in the pen who’d make the breeding of another female impossible so long as she lived… unless she was in the room and made to participate.
No bonded Alpha could dump working sperm in another pussy. Kieran had to know that after these last days hording the mute Omega away. He’d probably had difficulty even knotting, grown frustrated with her.
Brow cocked, chin nuzzling the top of the silent mouse’s head, Caspian added, “Toby refuses to allow other females near our mate. You’d have to kill the doll you paid for.”
And there was always the fact that once Toby got his crack at the estrous high mouse, once he fully forged a pair-bond, his gushing prick would rinse out and destroy any defunct remnants left by another male. Kieran would not have his way in this. Not that he didn’t deserve to be mocked for daring to deliver her cleansed and pristine.
“Done.” Burning green eyes remained locked on Caspian, Kieran physically growing, drilling his attention on his leader, as he verbally ended the life of his doll.
Under Caspian’s blatant caress, the mouse stiffened.
Another point won for the First, his game to seize her full and real attention far more fruitful than he’d imagined when he’d ordered the food and piled up a small fortune. “The doll is claiming pregnancy.”
Considering Kieran’s style had always been petulance, it had been some time since Caspian had seen his Second display this level of outright anger. Running a hand through disheveled hair, snorting a huff of hot breath, Kieran barked, “The bitch wasn’t in estrous. There is no pregnancy.”
It wouldn’t be so easy as that. “The rumor that you’re about to add to your brood has already spread. The doll even demanded a place where Giggi and Oriella den with your other brats.” Because the Second could never resist a bet, Caspian added. “One-million credits that you’ll be clapped on the back when you leave the room. Half the Syndicate is waiting to congratulate you.”
A pale, small hand reached to where Caspian held the mouse’s hair in a tight fist. Stroking his fingers, she tried to urge release.
Distracted, breaking his eyes from the intruding male, mud-brown eyes cut to lavender. Her pupils had retracted, the female no longer in a state ready for mating. She was in a state for scolding—a thing he’d learned she could accomplish with a single look.
Had he been one of her boys, it may have worked.
He was not her child. He was her god.
He’d branded and paid for her, letting her know his thoughts with a lick of his lower lip and a growl.
The scent of slick as it gushed upon his call, softened the hard set of his eyes. The way she pressed her legs together as if she might hold it in, enthralling. “Do you have something to add, pretty mouse?”
Without preamble, her little palm cupped his erection.
And all hell broke loose.
It no longer mattered that a Second in need of a dry fuck up the ass lingered to watch. It no longer mattered that Caspian’s intentions to woo her had been interrupted.
All that mattered was ripping open that hideous dress so he might lick the intoxicating fluid dripping down her thighs. Pound his strength into her slender body. Pour as much cum as possible into her womb.
Teeth itching with the need to clamp down and set his mark again, fabric split and fell away in ribbons with his enthusiasm.
And then he saw it… another male’s still swollen mark on her neck.
Chapter 12
With an arm snaked around the slight thing’s torso, Caspian hauled the mouse’s spent body into the perfect position so he might view where they were still joined. Pale ass up, her cheek to the mussed nest. Limp and exhausted and thoroughly branded, she let him do as he wished.
Kieran forced to watch and forbidden to participate.
Every muscle packed into Caspian’s bulk seemed loose now that the last jettison of cum had spilled from his sack. And though the Omega’s fist-tight cunt dribbled the occasional leak, so much of him was still inside her that there was no question who was master.
He was. He was the Alpha. First in the city—the entire fucking planet if Caspian had his way. And she? She was his Omega to fuck, fill, and fondle at will.
Completely subdued now, the female did little more than twitch when he spread her ass cheeks wide to behold the glory of where the root of his cock was held tightly in her body.
The knot he’d pinned her with made a slow retreat, only large enough now to thin the skin around her well-fucked hole. Labia stretched when he slowly began to withdraw, knowing a flood waited behind that barrier, he teased his dick back enough that one minuscule, further movement would pop the seal and see him sprayed with what waited in her deluged channel.
“Your pretty pussy’s blooming, naughty girl.” Using his fingers, Caspian stretched her labia further, teasing her with stings that both hurt and pleasured. “Hold every drop when I pull out. If you spill any, you’ll be punished.”
An impossible feat.
The Omega was about to release a warm torrent that would drench his slick-shined thighs, coat the back of her legs, and puddle on the bedding. He’d roll her in it, work it through her hair. Force it between her lips. And punish her with another bite.
His teeth already itched, buzzed with the need to clamp down… again.
Eyes glazed in lust, Caspian pulled against her resisting vaginal opening, favored with a quick gush when she clenched to hold him from retreating so rudely.
“Already spilling my gift?” Dark, the growl working his voice into something animal, Caspian swiped a finger through the little trickle, zigzagging from her stuffed cunt and down her thighs. Bringing that sperm-laced sweetness to his lips, he sucked the digit clean with a loud pop. “Every drop you spill I’ll shove right back in you, pretty mouse. You’ll be corked with my cum, walk around with it sloshing in your belly until every cell in your body has my mark in it.”
A spit-drenched finger circled her anus, threatening to push forward and breach.
Watching her involuntarily clench, knowing it would force out another splatter of cream from her cunt, he clicked his tongue. “I said hold it.”
She was fucking flawless in her wide-eyed, blown pupil, haze. No matter his commands, her cunt wanted to keep all he threatened to let spill. It desired the very knot he was using to stretch and strain her opening.
Uptight scruples or not, the female fucking loved the exact way he wrecked her.
Considering how deeply he’d needed to fuck, he’d known he’d hurt her before the rut had fully destroyed his senses. By the state of her back—the myriad fresh bites and extensive bleeding scratches—he’d done actual damage.
But his female healed quickly, complained little, and had cum on his cock more times than any woman he’d fucked before. And he’d fucked them all. Any Omega, mated or not, that he’d desired. Betas by the truckload. He’d even mounted a raging, violent A
lpha female or two.
Those battles and victories had been stimulating, but it was nothing to this.
This Omega? When pushed past the pale, she’d fought back exactly in a way the beast within craved. Tooth and nail, screams and grunts.
He too bled.
Having tempted her to mentally degrade and savage his body until Alpha blood filled her mouth. The same mouth now parted as the mouse tried to catch her breath. The sweet mouth that had kissed his lips, licked at the mark on his neck she’s left all those weeks ago.
A place she had dared to bite him a second time at the cusp of his fifth or sixth climax.
Caspian had almost blacked out from the sheer force of his physical response to her sharp teeth. He’d roared and rammed when her nails gouged deep lines down his back. And when the manic fog had cleared, he had her over him, riding an engorged cock gone purple with blood, and found her taking her pleasure despite new bruises and wounds.
A pale head had been thrown back, inhuman noise coming from her throat as she milked his knot and ground her pelvis hard enough to make his groin ache.
The things he’d threatened her with for presuming to dominate him were beyond vulgar. All this he snarled while strumming the needy clit peeking from her hood. Leaning back, the Omega had spread the thighs banking his legs all the wider. Challenging him to follow through while chasing his thumb for more.
She’d cum so hard she’d sobbed.
So very pretty when she cried, his knot ballooned even larger, big hands reaching to pull the female to his chest so those tears might fall and mingle with his sweat.
In that moment, Caspian had wished she could speak.
A declaration perhaps that of all males, she preferred him most. Her body already spoke that truth—he’d watched her with both Kieran and Toby, and though she enjoyed being fucked by his pack, there was something between he and she that neither Second or Third could touch.
It fluttered like a caught bird in the fragment of the weak bond he could sense. Something his.
The pretty mouse hated him, that was true. But when they were joined, her abhorrence splintered. When he fucked her past the point of reason, it disappeared altogether.