Broken Captive (Wren's Song 3) - Page 6

And they would be the death of her. But not until she got her boys as fucking far away as possible. She’d even kill them if that’s what it came down to.

But not in a rage. They were too strong for even that mindless death-machine Omegas became to protect their brood. They were the perfect pack, despite their grievances and constant snarling back and forth.

Hand to his throat, Caspian kneaded the skin as if unaware of what he was doing. “You don’t seem well.”

Splinted fingers did a poor job of trying to smooth bed-wild hair into something fetching.

“I’ve waited two days, and I need to fuck.” This all blurted out while the obvious erection in Caspian’s pants leaked.

Then fuck Rosie, Wren thought. Glad he was far enough away that his poor excuse of a purr couldn’t truly touch her.

Utter filth, the Alpha’s eyes glowed with something perverse. “But I want to look at you while I’m doing it.”

Relief faintly coursed through tired veins.

As if he too felt his offer was her balm, Caspian drew his hands from a throat grown red from rubbing to knock against his heart. Or perhaps she misread him, for his grimace made it seem as if the last batch of food stuffed down his maw must pain him.

Dragging a silent, yet strangely composed Rosie behind him, the First Alpha approached. “Scoot to the edge of the bed, pretty mouse. Spread your legs so I can see your juicy cunt.”

The only part of her that didn’t ache.

Fine.

Hair a tangled mess, unwashed and a physical wreck, Wren slunk to the edge, laid back even as Caspian pulled out his cock, and locked her eyes on the water-stained ceiling.

A sound of distress came from the beautiful blonde in the pretty blue dress. It was not the sound of a woman getting fucked, it was the sound of a person shoved to their knees then choked on a fleshy length of meat.

And it was enough to draw lavender eyes from the uneven ceiling to the eyes of her living, breathing tormentor.

He looked as if he suffered the most terrible kind of pain.

Staring down between her legs. To the dry slit. To pink inner labia that fanned out from chalk-white skin. To the cunt he’d previously penetrated, filled with filthy cum, and tasted.

And for some unknown reason, knowing he was skull fucking another woman, and staring at a thing he would not let himself have, Wren almost felt sorry for him. Which made little sense, considering the man had no real regard for her welfare beyond that of a favored toy. Knowing that the marks he’d left on her would prove this whole thing pointless.

She felt sorry as he did things to Rosie’s throat that would have made Wren vomit.

She felt sorry that no matter how often or hard he fucked his favorite Omega, he’d never know joy.

She felt sorry that she hated his guts and wished to see him destroyed.

And she felt sorry that she grew wet to the sounds of another woman gagging on his cock.

One tiny pearl of slick, that was all it took to shatter Caspian’s composure.

One second he had been little more than a perverted voyeur. The next he buckled over and set his mouth to the very part of her he’d demolished two days prior.

Lapping at her like a madman. Trying to drink up the sad offering a disinterested body might offer. He growled, whined like a dog, then rested his head on her sunken belly as he gushed his seed down the throat of another.

None of it had been for Wren’s pleasure. No, he’d swallowed her up in greed.

But as the male panted, bent over, rubbing his scruffy face on her belly, she took pity and stroked his head with splinted hands.

“You need to eat more, pretty mouse…”

Softly spoken words that made no sense.

Lavender eyes drew down just in time to see small, female hands grasp Caspian’s knot and massage it in a way that would milk him almost like a cunt. She saw the wheat colored hair peeking up from the edge of the bed she’d been forced to “nest” in. She saw the travesty this would be if she’d loved this male.

But she didn’t.

And she didn’t care.

That did not stop her gasp when Caspian stopped licking her for his pleasure and doubled down his effort for hers. Light airy flicks over her clit, swirling, pointed laps of a tongue over labia and slit.

It should have been humiliating how quickly she came. Her empty cunt flooded with slick so quickly the room spun. It drenched his face and set the Alpha into a fit of long groans.

“Thank you.”

What the actual fuck?

Kicking back, scooting away from the mouth on her parts, Wren needed to be anywhere but this room. As far as possible from an existence where a shrinking penis was slipping from the loudly sucking lips of a foreign woman.

Tags: Addison Cain Wren's Song Erotic
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