I fuck her harder, faster, until she’s incoherent.Her body convulses, her orgasm ripping through her, walls spasming around me and milking my cock.She screams my name, her slick drenching me, soaking the sheets, flooding the air with her surrender.
I snarl, burying myself deep, holding her pinned, branding her with every inch of me except my knot.My orgasm tears through me like fire, cum flooding her, spilling past her swollen folds, marking her in every way I can without sinking my teeth into her throat.
Mine.
Even if I swore I’d never want an omega.Even if I swore I’d keep my distance.I saw how my own father lost everything chasing omega pussy that didn’t want him and I swore I would never be that weak.
But this one is mine.And God help me, I already know...
I’ll never let her go.
Chapter Four
Bruised
Evangeline
I wake to pain.
It radiates through every inch of me, a deep ache that makes me afraid to move.My thighs throb, my hips burn, my wrists ache where his hands had pinned me down.Between my legs I am swollen, raw, and stretched in a way I never imagined possible.The simple act of shifting on the mattress makes me whimper, a soft broken sound that shames me as much as the memory of what caused it.
The sheets are damp beneath me, clinging to my skin.They smell like him, sharp Alpha musk and smoke, threaded with the sweeter scent of my own submission.Every breath I take fills my lungs with the reminder that I gave myself to him.Or maybe it wasn’t giving.Maybe it was taking.Maybe it was being destroyed.
Fragments slam into me the moment I open my eyes.His voice, rough and guttural in my ear.The relentless weight of his body pinning me down.The moment he forced himself inside me, stealing my breath, stretching me wide until I thought I’d split apart.The way he snarled “mine” while I sobbed beneath him.
The pleasure I felt even though I fought not to and the word I swore I’d never say.The word he dragged from me with each brutal thrust.
Yours.
My chest tightens, shame and heat colliding until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.I should hate him.I should hate myself more.But the thought of his hands gripping me, his voice commanding me, the sting of his teeth at my throat ...it makes my body clench, a slow pulse of need beating low in my belly.
God.What the fuck is wrong with me?
I squeeze my eyes shut, but that only makes the memories sharper.The burn of his hand striking my thigh.The way my body arched when he spat filthy words in my ear, degrading me until I cried and still, I grew wetter.I see myself begging, hear my own voice whispering yes, even when my mind screamed no.I can still feel the moment my body broke apart for him, around him, convulsing with an orgasm so sharp it left me ruined.It wasn’t supposed to feel like that.I wasn’t supposed to love it.I certainly wasn’t supposed to want to do it again.
Tears sting my eyes.I hate that my body has become my enemy, betraying me over and over.I hate that the thought of his cruelty makes me ache to be touched again.Degraded again.Hurt again.The pain was supposed to break me.Instead, it branded me, rewrote me until I craved it.
