Born Captive (Broken Angel 1) - Page 3

She remembered the scorched landscape of humble homes and bodies. Carried away in the arms of her captor, she’d reached toward the heat, unable to remold the fabric of her reality.

Strangely, he had not fucked her. He’d fucked her mind instead. At least, that’s what she remembered. Everything was fragmented like the sharp needles of a broken ceramic bowl. If he didn’t fuck her, he gave her worse.

Wren had been sold into testing. They fed, groomed, housed, and even bathed her. In some ways, she was living a life of royalty. But whenever she gazed through her window at the edge of the dome, she realized she had a term limit.

At her peak fertility, the lab men would try every trick in the book on her. If she failed, they’d damn her to hell.

Who was she now? What machine did the men mold her into? When she looked at them, she did not gaze for too long. Though she had been treated with relative respect, the lurking feeling that he would be back to claim her never ceased to haunt her.

The doctor pressed a circular button on his tablet and whispered a record. “Subject EC23, showing signs of progress.”

“Why can’t we have children anymore?”

The man laughed. “You?”

She knew what happened, had heard the story time and time again. The men hated bearing the burden of hearing about it, but it was a fact that nature turned on all of them.

To her surprise, the doctor leaned forward and twisted his frown into a smile. “You’ll be the first to change the world. You’re the special one,” he said.

Wren’s gaze quickly fell toward the tactical belt firmly attached to the doctor’s waist. Hugging his hip, the side was a gun resting inside a leather holster.

She suddenly wished to take it, to stab it against her temple before squeezing the trigger.

The doctor carefully slithered his fingers into the twisted hips of her panties and rolled them downward..

“If I’m so special, why haven’t you brought my captor in to breed me?” she asked.

The doctor pressed two fingers together to feel Wren’s chest, but she quickly wriggled away. “As we discussed before, I didn’t choose your mate. You were taken and brought here.” He nudged his spectacles up the ridge of his arching nose. “The leader has a special liking to you. A connection, if you will.”

“Leader,” she whispered.

“There’s a lot you didn’t retain. That is a shame, but we must continue with the program for the sake of progress,” he said.

Wren gently wriggled her toe up his thigh. “You’re an alpha. Are you not a better candidate than the leader?”

The doctor stuttered and gulped. He glanced at the camera hanging from the corner of the ceiling. A dark beam of light blinked at them. “Please be still. I am required to take desensitizers before I meet with the patient—”

Wren kept her face still as she observed the blubbering idiot. He would be the one to do it, she

decided. She’d coax him into breaking her. Faced with the consequences of his knotting, he’d have to destroy the tapes and choke her to death to avoid detection. For her, death would be no different from the other girls’ fate. She could only hope it would come fast.

Locked up here for more than five years, she had been patient, counting the days by etching a thin line into the wall of her room. Now, she dreamed of sleep.

The guards, of course, saw it all on the streams, but the scarcity Wren possessed was far too valuable to let her be punished. Instead of a firm smacking, the guards would stand by the opening of her door just to catch her scent inside their nostrils.

Wren was done talking. Pouting his lips, the doctor quivered. “What are you doing?”

He grabbed his radio as Wren started to open her legs, revealing her moist virgin hole, just barely releasing enough slick for him to know he wanted her.

“Did you take your desensitizer? Did you really?” she purred.

The doctor choked and caught his throat. Thrown back into a fit, he let out a hungered, painful squeal. His hand, rigid and twisted, arched down to his zipper.

“No,” he admitted. “I did not.”

“I know I’m special, Doctor,” she said, spreading her creamy thighs apart.

The doctor urged his body forward. A quick spasm in his neck pulsed visibly. “Come here.”

Tags: Penelope Woods Broken Angel Erotic
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