Immaculate

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by Addison Cain


  And there he was, supine on his bed. Naked, hairy, oozing and foul.

  The old man watched as I was stripped to my skin, manhandled and carried already spread wide so the waiting youth might stuff the old man’s member in my dry slit. I dared just this once to look the geezer in the eye.

  I hope he saw every last ounce of my hatred.

  The pope had the audacity to smile. Yellow teeth in pale gums, a thick lolling tongue furred white from illness. A wracking cough shook him, a bit of spittle launched to land on my lips in the parody of a kiss. I ignored it, knowing my arm would not be set free from those who had already begun jacking me up and down his shaft to wipe myself clean.

  For the first time, a wizened hand rose, setting itself over my womb as if in blessing.

  Unlike the last weeks of my limp use, this jolted me. The jerk of my hips set him moaning, eyes rolling back as his bones answered with a lurch of their own. And then, while he was still inside me, I heard it.

  The exhalation of a corpse’s final death rattle.

  Not all the room noticed, not with so many eyes on my tits and cunt. But the youth charged with plumping the Pope’s cock before it invaded my body gave a cry.

  Beluni pressed forward, told them to continue as they were.

  Fucking me upon a corpse.

  He pressed his ears to the Pope’s slack lips, moved a moment later to listen to his chest. What he found moved him to shout., “Milk the last drops of his precious seed out of him, NOW!”

  That command was not for me; it was for the youth. The same youth whose hand Belini caught and forced toward my sex.

  I thought I was past weeping, but as I felt another reach down where my body was mashed down against the pelvis of the dead, tears fell fresh. The wrinkled sack under the softening cock was kneaded; a grip starting at the base of the pope’s cock and squeezing upward drawing out fluid I felt drench my insides.

  It smelled of piss.

  All near must have noticed, but they cheered all the same to see it weep out from where I was plugged with softening male flesh.

  I was made to lay for an hour, to hold in his seed, by a corpse that already reeked of the grave.

  Desecrated, I knew in those moments that I would fling my body from the first bridge I found.

  Cardinal Beluni, Satan himself, knew my thoughts and put me under watch from that moment forward. Never once was I left alone. And when my courses never arrived and my stomach began to revolt at easy smells, I was deemed blessed.

  At a private lunch between the two of us, Beluni took my hand, kissing my fingers as he said, “You carry Christ in your womb. Put the babe in harm’s way, and I will see your whole family crucified.”

  It wasn’t a threat, not when his eyes were soft and full of adoration. It was a promise.

  I married the Doge of Venice a week later. I laid with him already full of another man’s child. And yes, when free of the regular presence of the doge’s cardinal cousin again, I began to pray.

  It was an act of desperation.

  For as my belly grew, I knew the terrible truth.

  The babe was a girl…

  Just like me, my mother, and her mother before her.

  The End

  Craving more? The Wren’s Song Series is a dark, sinister Omegaverse Reverse Harem tale for those with twisted tastes and a love for complete power exchange.

  Wren can’t sing like a bird. She can’t speak at all.

  The Alpha kingpin and his pack didn’t buy the Omega to hear it talk.

  Wren’s Song Collection 1 is a dark, sinister Omegaverse Reverse Harem tale for those with twisted tastes and a love for unabashed bad boys. Complete power exchange dominates these pages, as do THREE smoking-hot Alpha antiheroes.

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  Branded Captive — Wren can’t sing like a bird. She can’t speak at all. The Alpha kingpin and his pack didn’t buy the Omega to hear it talk. (Teaser Ahead!)

  Silent Captive — Wren is caught in the clutches of three dangerous Alphas, each with their own selfish designs.

  Broken Captive — Caspian has marked her, Toby has claimed her, and Kieran is unwillingly caught in her spell.

  Carnal, filthy, and unbelievably satisfying. My bestselling Omegaverse Dark Romance awaits those daring enough to take a taste.

  The Golden Line — They call me brutal. They call me unrepentant. They call me possessive. I am all these things and much worse. But to her, I will be conqueror.

  The twisted love of Shepherd for his stolen Claire. Omegaverse Dark Romance at its most gut-wrenching!

  Born to be Bound — Violent, calculating, and incapable of remorse, Shepherd demands his new mate's adoration. Her attention. Her body.

  Born to be Broken — He doesn’t know how to love his captive Omega. But Shepherd is determined to learn.

  Reborn — the nature of their pair-bond has consumed Claire to the point that she has difficulty differentiating where her feelings begin and Shepherd’s machinations end.

  Stolen —He took her with violence while none intervened. He broke her, swearing he’d put her back together.

  If your tastes run to brooding alpha males, my hit dark romance, this Regence Dark Romance will scratch your itch.

  Dark Side of the Sun — Greedy, cunning, cruel, Gregory claims to love her, offers to kill for her… but lies come easily to his tongue.

  Obsession and the most twisted “love” fill this smoldering page-turner. Beware, the dark horror ahead.

  Catacombs — Vampire king has found his queen, locking her away for his own sick pleasures.

  Taboo horror that will worm its way into your darker thoughts and keep you up all night? Whatever you do, don’t follow the white rabbit!

  The White Queen — The devil owes the Hatter a favor… and he knows just what he wants for his prize.

  Love good, old fashioned desire? Take a turn with this prohibition era romance,

  A Taste of Shine — Something isn’t right about the new girl in town. Charlotte Elliot swears, she drinks, and she’s trying too damn hard to fit in with the simple folk.

  A Shot in the Dark — Matthew is determined to find his run-away sweetheart. And then he’s going to marry her.

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  Turn the page for a full chapter sneak peek of Branded Captive: Wren’s Song Book 1.

  WREN’S SONG

  “Accept my seed, Omega.”

  The breath wafting over her cheek was rancid, but it was the last thing Wren might take stock of when that thing was cracking her pelvis in half. She had done as she’d been instructed. Remained docile when the man had yanked her legs embarrassingly wide over his thighs. She had even ignored the thick thatch of coarse salt and pepper hair on his chest scratching her back when he hoisted her up.

  He’d growled as her mother told her he would, and torn through her barrier with one impatient yank of her hips. Unable to scream, Wren had only arched her spine, head thrown back on his shoulder. The Alpha, either oblivious or uncaring for her comfort, grasped her hips, bobbing her up and down his veined cock three times. With the fourth rude shunt, he’d clawed at her softer places and driven her down until her ass cheeks slapped against his lap. Immediately something ballooned inside her aching guts. It pressed her bladder to the point Wren was certain she’d dribbled more than a little piss on her buyer, continuing to expand until squished bowels, organs, and jangled nerves all screamed for relief.

  “Damn you, Omega. Take my seed!”

  Take what where? She didn’t understand what she was supposed to do now.

  At her back, the stranger panted, shifting beneath her as if he too were extremely uncomfortable. When she failed to perform, his irritation quickly translated into anger. The stink invaded Wren’s nostrils, it made her skin buzz.

  Angry Alphas killed.

  Angry Alphas mu
st always be appeased.

  Staring forward across the dimly lit, yet finely appointed space, Wren inhaled and exhaled on the count of three. There was nothing to be done about the stinging stretch where her legs were hooked over the man’s spread thighs. He had not offered to take her to a bed or even asked to see her build a nest. No, the couch in his fine house’s receiving room had suited his purpose well enough.

  Examine and test the stock.

  Fuck the virgin with her father on the other side of the cracked door.

  The man who’d brought her to sell listening to this. To the Alpha’s strained breaths, to his grunts and wheezing.

  Her father was listening to her failure.

  Wren forced herself to look down. She had not seen the Alpha’s cock before he’d shunted it unexpectedly into her, or even had a good look at the male. Her eyes had been downcast when they arrived, lest her father strike her for insolence. She had disrobed for inspection. She had moved as commanded and not resisted when the Alpha yanked her to the nearest seat.

  And her father had exited the room to listen so he might claim full payment for what transpired.

  Payment for... this. Wren stared where only the root of an Alpha cock was visible stretching her labia beyond imagining. There was a little blood, far less than she’d anticipated considering the sting. The red spread with their fluids, matting the hair that peppered his swollen ball sack.

  The knot in her belly gave an angry pulse, expanding again in a bid to ruin her completely. Gnashing his teeth, the Alpha almost whined against her neck, his balls thundering in twitching pulses. They too expanded, the skin under all that coarse hair growing shiny and white from the stretch.

  “Fucking Omega…” A meaty hand left her hip, landing on her belly as if that might force her even further down his meat. But there was nowhere else to go. She was tied to him by that pulsating knot spreading agony in her guts. From the way he fought to speak, how his breath hitched in a whine with each breath, the Alpha was in as much pain as she. “You have one purpose. Milk my fucking cock!”

  If that knot kept banging against her pubic bone, she was going to be sick all over his rug. Stalled, unsure what it was he wanted from her, Wren thought the wisest course was to remain still and wait.

  It was the wrong choice.

  “Your freak daughter is failing to comply!” The snarled shout was directed to the cracked door.

  The meek response was never the tone Wren’s father took with her. “Have you… umm… stimulated her, sir?”

  Wren’s new owner turned his head, yelling so sharply the girl flinched. “Of course I have! She belligerently refuses to bring me to orgasm. My fucking knot is full. Gah—” Slick with sweat, the Alpha squeezed her tighter, caught in a waving cramp of his own. “I’ll have your goddamn head for this, Carson!”

  “Wren, honey.” Through the cracked door, her father sing-songed, “Relax and take his seed. Show this illustrious Alpha you wish to serve as his mate.”

  She wanted to sign that she didn’t understand, to reach out for the man who’d brought her there to sell her. But he could not see.

  The potential mate roared, “SEND IN HELENA!”

  Another door in the chilly room opened, a woman in a vivid robe rushing forward. “How can I serve you, my Alpha?”

  “Bend over the desk and wait for me!”

  Wren watched the woman quickly strip, viewing another naked female body for the first time in her life. With no preamble, the pretty brunette bent at the waist, the globes of her ass presented, her cheek to the wood.

  Beta female parts were on display.

  Cruel fingers reached for Wren’s stretched labia, the Alpha yanking at the sensitive flesh as he grunted and threw her forward with his weight. His ballooning testicles doubled in size, the man groaning with the worst sort of agony.

  His pain was nothing to hers. The knot that was meant to tie them together in life was deformed by his tricks until it could be pulled free of her body. Wren was dumped on the floor, hand pressed between her trembling legs as she wailed.

  From the corner of her eye, she watched the Alpha scythe his cock into the waiting female, wrecking her with the madness of his need to release. Unlike Wren, the Beta gave him immediate relief, the Alpha’s cry earsplitting.

  Bowed over, curled in on herself, Wren shut her eyes to it all.

  When her father was called forward, even then she refused to rise to meet his gaze. Naked and shamed on the floor of a stranger’s house, she sniffed, wishing she couldn’t hear the terrible things that were said about her.

  “Was she not trained?”

  “My wife took great pains to explain what would be expected, sir. You have my humblest apologies that she failed, but if you are not going to take her as your new mate, you still owe for the tearing of her hymen. She will be harder to sell unintact.”

  Of course her father would try to weasel credits from this man…

  The Alpha gave an incredulous laugh. “Your mute albino freak might be pretty to look at, but she is the worst fuck imaginable. If you think I’d expose that cunt to another Alpha in this city, you’re wrong.”

  “You owe me one-thousand credits for her virginity!” Her father never once came to her defense, never offered her comfort, he only tried to squeeze what he could from a far richer man. “The contract was clear. No matter the outcome of the first mating, a fee will be paid!”

  The sound of ice hitting the side of crystal, the pour of liquor. Far calmer, the Alpha took a long sip. “The contract,” a smile in his voice, the Alpha purred, “is null and void if the merchandise is defective. You get nothing, Carson. She will be tagged and dumped in the Warrens and you will leave here grateful to be breathing.”

  No! Ignoring sore muscles and the screaming pain between her legs, Wren scampered to her father and wrapped her arm around his leg. Signing frantically, she begged him for mercy.

  He looked down at his pale, violet-eyed child, deadpan as he said, “I should have had you euthanized at birth.”

  Ready for more? One-click WREN’S SONG NOW!

  FREE BOOK!

  BORN TO BE BOUND: ALPHA’S CLAIM BOOK 1

  She watched him bolt the door with a rod so thick it dwarfed her ankle, trapping her, cornering the Omega for mating. Unsure if Shepherd had heard, she used her feet to scoot away from the male until her back hit the wall, and tried again. "Food… we can't go out... hunted, forced. They're killing us." Her blown pupils looked up at the intimidating male and pleaded for him to understand. "You are the Alpha in Thólos, you hold control... we have no one else to ask."

  "So you foolishly walked into a room full of feral males to ask for food?" He was mocking her, his eyes mean, even as he grinned.

  The horror of the day, the sexual frustration of her heat, made Claire belligerently raise her head and meet his eyes. "If we don't get food, I'm dead anyway."

  Seeing the female grimace through another cramping wave, Shepherd growled, an instinctual reaction to a breeding Omega. The noise shot right between her legs, full of the promise of everything she needed. His second, louder grumbled noise sang inside her, and a wave of warm slick drenched the floor below her swollen sex, saturating the air to entice him.

  She could not take it. "Please don't make that noise."

  "You are fighting your cycle," he grunted low and abrasive, beginning to pace, watching her all the while.

  Shaking her head back and forth, Claire began to murmur, "I've lived a life of celibacy."

  Celibacy? That was unheard of... a rumored story. Omegas could not fight the urge to mate. That was why the Alphas fought for them and forced a pair-bond to keep them for themselves. The smell alone drove any Alpha into a rut.

  He growled again and the muscles of her sex clenched so hard she whined and curled up on the floor.

  It was hard enough to make it through estrous locked in a room alone until the cycle broke, but his damn noise and the smell invading past the rotting stickiness of her clothing
was breaking her insides apart.

  The degrading way he spoke made her open her eyes to see the beast standing still, his massive erection apparent despite layers of clothing. "How long does your heat typically last, Omega?"

  Shivering, suddenly loving the sound of that lyrical rasp, she clenched her fists at her sides instead of beckoning him nearer. "Four days, sometimes a week."

  "And you have been through them all in seclusion instead of submitting to an Alpha to break them?"

  "Yes."

  He was making her angry, furious even, with his stupid questions. Every part of her was screaming out that he should be stroking her and easing the need. That it was his job! With her hand still pressed over her nose and mouth, her muffled, broken explanation came as a jumbled, angry rant, Claire hissing, "I choose."

  He just laughed, a cruel, coarse sound.

  Omegas had become exceptionally rare since the plagues and the following Reformation Wars a century prior. That made them a valuable commodity which Alphas in power took as if it was their due. And in a city brimming with aggressive Alphas like Thólos, she'd been trapped in a life of feigning existence as a Beta just to live unmolested, spent a small fortune on heat-suppressants, and locked herself away with the other few celibates she knew when estrous came. Hidden in plain sight before Shepherd's army sprung out of the Undercroft and the government was slaughtered, their corpses left strung up from the Citadel like trophies.

  Claire had been forced into hiding the very next day, when the unrest inspired the lower echelons of population to challenge for dominance. Where there had been order, suddenly all Thólos knew was anarchy. Those awful men just took any Omega they could find; killing mates and children in order to keep the women—to breed them or fuck until they died.

 

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