Stolen (Alpha's Claim 4) - Page 28

Except Brenya.

But should she see him so battered, it might startle the Omega. So, something had to be done before he returned to their apartments.

White linen wet with cold water soothed the cut on his lip. It was the only thing cold water soothed. His quick rinse had done nothing to battle the erection even hours of physical exertion had yet to diminish.

Five Alpha males had been summoned to spar against him.

Five, because the Commodore of Bernard Dome wanted to feel pain.

He needed the penitence; he needed his body to be a reflection of hers.

In her letter, Annette had described in detail what he’d ignored in the rut. Annette had outlined every last way in which he was killing his mate.

Bruises, bite marks, starvation, dehydration.

She had called the most powerful male on the continent powerless over himself—accused him of a complete lack of control in the presence of his lover. Every word was correct.

Even now, even with pulped flesh and sore muscles, his thoughts circled on how tight Brenya had been when he’d callously rutted the Omega in the streets.

Her pain had been his ultimate pleasure.

The guilt had come later.

And it had come hard.

Guilt was not a powerful enough motivator to a man who always got what he desired. He could force her at any time. In fact, he was starting to think that he should. Whatever damage was done to keep her safe from his needs would all be erased the instant his pairbond tied her soul to his.

Ancil had made a strong point. Rape her now if need be, make her like it and call it what he will.

Do what had to be done so rational thought won the day—so that his Cabinet did not see him this way and presume to find their leader weak. Do it before someone used this weakness against him.

Would she scream or cry? Would he be able to care when her cunt was spasming around his cock?

How much of his soul would be forfeit once the knot formed and the copious seed engorging his balls forced its way into her belly. Could he live with himself?

Yes.

Yes, he could, and he knew it.

Behind him, his security advisor, one of the most influential men under the Dome and his longtime comrade, watched his every move. Ancil’s dark hair had already been brushed and braided back into the rope required by all ranked Alphas. His skin had been oiled, his wounds tended by a pretty Beta attendant. That same attendant was now bent over the locker room’s bench, his ass stuffed full of Ancil’s cock.

Pleasure was the heart of Centrist culture, using a nameless Beta attendant, male or female, this way normal. Before Brenya, the pair of them had even made a game of it.

It was a game Ancil was tempting him with now.

The Alpha was making low throat noises with each forward thrust, stretching open the soft, hairless young male who braced.

Ancil would work the boy’s cock with one hand, in a slow steady rhythm. He would get that Beta organ swollen and ready to burst, only to squeeze his fingers around the base, fuck in harder, and deny the attendant release.

This they had done side by side many times, the ultimate goal, to see how hard the attendant might spray his come once the knot pressed the Beta’s prostate. Whoever could get them to shoot farther won.

In this case, Jacques had already waved off the attendant who could have served his needs. So, Ancil had thought to tempt him by working up his Beta’s moans, making sure the pretty male’s throat was open and ready to choke down an Alpha cock.

They could share him. There could be relief.

Jacques didn’t know when he’d turned from the mirror to observe, was hardly aware of how swollen his cock was or the constant drizzle of pre-come leaking from his crown. Transfixed, he watched Ancil grow rough with his toy, heard the slapping of the male’s groin against the soft cheeks of the Beta… took in the grimace of pleasure the Alpha wore as he threw back his head and just took what was his.

That was not the scene Jacques saw. He saw Brenya bent over the bench, her legs splayed and ass up as he pounded into her.

She, like the Beta, would have her mouth hanging open. She, like the Beta, would brace and make low mewing sounds.

When she came, she would cry out, milk his cock dry, and be forced to submit, stuffed full throughout the duration of his knot… her belly bulging a little more from each accumulative blast of ejaculate trapped behind the knot.

The Omega would be completely at his mercy, unable to stop or run from whatever part of her his hands wanted to explore.

Her ass… he’d stretch that sweet pucker with his fingers and show her what pleasure could be had there. Knotted, caught in the mating high, he’d finger that hole. Someday, he’d fuck her there.

Tags: Addison Cain Alpha's Claim Erotic
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