by Nora Ash
There’s something in his voice, that heated, sultry note, that suddenly makes it clear what his intended payment for my salvation might be. But instead of the outrage I should feel, something tense low in my abdomen melts in response. It’s not until I realize I’ve gone lax in his grasp, letting him support my weight with his that it dawns on me what I’m doing. What I’m offering.
“No!” I jolt backward and away from him, the sheer shock at my own reaction to this stranger, this killer, jolting me out of whatever spell his presence is weaving over my confused mine. “Absolutely not!”
He lets me stumble out of his grip and a few steps away, and I nearly trip over my own pants.
Shaking like a leaf from how close I was to letting this stranger do what he wants with me, I bend to pick up my pants. I no longer care if I have to take my eyes off him to do so, I need to not be so exposed anymore.
My fingers are stiff from cold and shock, and the button and zipper are bust. Awkwardly, I cling on to them with one hand as I look back up at the alpha. I open my mouth to tell him thank you again for saving me, but I’m leaving now—but just then, our eyes finally meet and all that escapes my parted lips is a low grunt.
His eyes are a cool shade of gray—the eyes of a ruthless alpha for sure. But behind the facade there’s something else. Something wild and deep and primal, and it’s pulling on a part of me I never knew existed until this very moment.
Out of nowhere, a sharp twinge in my abdomen makes me whimper from surprise and pain, and I keel over, losing my grip on my pants as I rest my hands on my bare knees for the few seconds it takes before my body is released from the unexpected spasm. It is gone as swiftly as it came.
I blink, slowly straightening up.
No. No, no, no, not again! I stare at him, wide-eyed, the accusation of using some sort of biological warfare against me not completely formed in my mind when I’m hit by the next wave. This time, it’s... different, and I recognize the heat blooming out from deep inside of me before arousal shakes through my body in fitful waves.
It can’t be. Please, no.
The groan I involuntarily send into the air between us sounds like a pleading, “Ooh”.
Oh God, it’s really happening again.
Slick moisture rushes from my core, flooding my pussy until a river of fluids gushes out and soaks my broken pants as my body presents for him, the alpha it mistakenly believes has been posturing for my favor.
Despite my body’s mutiny, I feel my sense of civilization take a firm hold as the deepest blush of my lifetime spreads over my entire body. I slap the hand not clinging to my pants in front of my face with a humiliated whimper, curling in on myself while the pleasurable shocks preparing me for him—this killer—rake through me, stronger than anything I’ve felt before.
“Oh God!”
I whine through the expulsion of liquids and the opening of my channel in anticipation of his claiming, too mortified to look at the man who’s done nothing to incite this response from my body.
It must be the adrenaline, the conquering of other alphas to save me, it must be ... My thoughts are struggling to find reason during the onslaught of my most basic instincts, but finally I am released from the tremors, my body having completed the preparation. From my disastrous experience last night, I know my sex is flushed and opened, slick and ready for penetration, but all I sense is the soaked state of my thighs and clothes and the utter and complete humiliation of this horrific situation. Maybe, when I think back to this night later on, the worst parts will be the near-rape or the witnessing of a mass murder, but right now, those things are astonishingly hard to even remember.
He must think I am a lunatic. And he’d probably be right. I straighten slowly, forcing my hand from my face so I can apologize. I don’t care who he is—there is no excuse for this vulgar display. None.
“I... I’m really sorry, I don’t know why this keeps happening to me.” My voice is a humiliated whisper.
He cocks his head at me, and I have to fight myself to not hide my face behind my hand again.
“I’m really sorry,” I repeat, a frantic note making my voice shrill again. “This should never happen—it’s so wrong, I’m so sorry.” My fingers clutch at the fabric around my midriff, and I fumble desperately to secure them to preserve at least an echo of my dignity. I don’t manage to make any headway before the air pressure shifts and I automatically glance up.
Once more, the alpha is right next to me, close enough to notice that his eyes now appear fully black, swallowed by dilated pupils. Without my conscious command my fingers release my pants, letting them slide back down.
Oh, God.
His nostrils flare, and a new rush of wetness drizzle down my thighs, as if my body’s responding to his obvious scenting of me. Like I wasn’t already drenched enough for even a normal person to smell my pheromones—they’re so thick in the air I can practically taste them.
A wry smirk pulls on his full lips, and in that single change of expression the ever-present predator leaps to the forefront.
“Oh, God!” I gasp as I see him removing the leather glove from one hand, carelessly letting it fall to the ground. My body clenches and shudders in primal recognition of what is written all over his face, even if my conscious mind still refuses to acknowledge it.
When his thick, warm finger reaches between my legs and dips into my slit I wish I’d saved the outburst for this. He pulls it up, dragging it through my folds all the way from my sopping hole to the aching nub burning at the top before lifting the digit slowly, provokingly, to his lips. I stare at him in shock when he opens his mouth to suck my fluids off.
His eyes flutter shut, a deep growl resonating from his throat and all the way into my spine sending a new gush down my thighs, and I whimper pathetically. Half from need, half from fear, because even before he says it I know there’s only one way this can go now.
Black, primal demand flashes against me when his eyes open once more, the smirk still present—taunting.
He knows I won’t be running this time.
Chapter Five
“I—I really don’t think this is a good idea!”
Of all the things I could have said when faced with a rutting alpha, alone in a dark, abandoned park, that’s probably not the best choice. Especially not since every cell in my body is thrumming with desperate need, and at the most primal level I know the only thing that’ll cure me is him. Him, and everything his darkened eyes are promising he’ll do to me.
He cocks his head at me again, and I get the distinct impression he’s quirking an eyebrow at me underneath the mask. Not that I can blame him—despite the panic pulling sluggishly on my lust-soaked brain, I know he can scent my desperation for his touch. I might not know him, but my body knows he’s the only one who can stop the aching deep inside of me.
But this is wrong. No respectable woman would yield to a stranger like this, on a muddy river bank surrounded by corpses. I can’t do this—I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.
“Give me one good reason.”
His low growl, deep and rich and so fucking alpha I can’t help the whimper escaping my throat at the sound of it, makes me realize I’ve spoken out loud.
“I…” I fumble for an answer that will end this madness, that will let him release me so I can run home and hide until every last memory of this night has been wiped from my mind. But it’s so hard to think when he’s so close I can feel his heat penetrating through my skin and into my blood, and all I want is to give in to the unyielding demand I see in his lust-darkened eyes.
Not waiting for me to finish, he wraps an arm around my back as he slides his glove-less fingers down across my abdomen until he reaches my drenched sex. The lightest touch of his fingertips against my aching clit sends an explosion of white-hot sensation through my shaking body.
“I can see them!” I blurt out, pulling my upper body back from his even as my hips press forward in desperate pursuit for more. “I can’t… we can’t…
I can see their blood and…”
A feral sneer pulls on his sensual mouth, and before I can blink he picks me up like I weigh nothing more than a rag doll and carries me through the maimed bodies on the ground to a nearby tree. Roughly, he puts me down and spins me around so I face the wide trunk.
“There,” he growls behind me, his breath raising goosebumps along the back of my neck.
His hand presses against my spine until my shoulders meet the rough bark. When I twist my neck so my face is not against the surface I can no longer see the corpses.
Another hand roams down my back while I am pinned in place, following the curve of my ass until it reaches the soaking wetness between my legs where I am aching and clenching for this. But he is a stranger—I am panting and spread open for a killer, and I know I should fight him.
I want to flinch when his massive body moves to rest firmly against mine, but instead my hips push backwards and my legs part as wide as they can in the pants trapping my ankles. Everything I do seems an invitation to him, down to the small, impatient whines escaping my throat, and I can’t stop myself, no matter what my muted reasoning is screaming from behind the thick veil of lust.
He bends his head over me, breathing deeply in the now shared air, and finally I am hit fully by his scent. He smells like ... like musk and alpha and raw sex. So much better, fuller, than anything and anyone I’ve ever scented in my life that there is hardly any comparison. My eyes roll back in their sockets as the last resistance leaves my strained mind.
He has accepted my offering. He will have me.
Large hands find my hips and I feel him shift behind me, lining up, and then firm heat presses against my soaking lips.
Yes, yes, yes!
The tension increases, but the relief of penetration doesn’t follow. I arch my back further, desperate to accept his cock now that I have finally given in to nature’s inescapable demand. I feel his flared head pressing against the soft, wet flesh so anxious to welcome him, and whimper with frustration. Inside! I need him inside!
“Please!” I pant, trying to back myself onto him, disregarding the pain I’m causing myself. He is so thick—if he will just fill me up like every instinct in my body is screaming for, I will be sated, I know it.
The hands on my hips catch my attempt at spearing myself on his cock, thumbs digging painfully into my skin when I buck against his restrain.
“I am your first alpha.”
It is more of a statement than a question. I whine a confirmation nonetheless.
He growls angrily, causing my pussy to clench with pathetic need and a river of slick moisture to pour out of me and over his cock, but instead of pushing past my body’s resistance and completing his claim he draws back, letting the cool night air brush over my exposed opening.
“No! What are you doing?” He can’t leave me like this, unfulfilled and empty. I squirm, trying to twist around. I need him, I need—
Sharp teeth close around the back of my neck, sending shocks of pleasure straight to my nipples and clit. He growls again, warningly this time, and something in my brain clicks, freezing me in place.
He licks the nape of my neck, loosening his bite now that I have stilled again. I shudder at the sensation of his tongue, such a silky soft contrast to the hulking roughness of everything else about this alpha. It plays over every sensitive spot there, but the gentleness is soon shattered when his fingers slide from my hips and up under my ruined shirt and sports bra to pinch my nipples.
“Ah!” I cry out wordlessly, jerking from the unexpected pain, but he quickly bites back down on my neck again, triggering the same receptors as before, and I go lax, whimpering in confused surrender.
Another agonizing pinch follows, as if to assert his right to do with my body as he pleases, but this time I simply moan, locked in place by his jaws as I am.
Impatiently he smoothes his gloveless hand down my stomach, and my hips, which have been firmly pressed back against his strong thighs until now, jerk forward in blind search of stimulation when he brushes over my bared mound.
Thankfully, he doesn’t pause, but goes straight for my throbbing clit, circling it rapidly before dipping two fingers further down, coating them in my own lubrication. Then, he presses both firmly against my little nub, and my pants of, ‘oh, oh, oh’ change to a shriek of pleasure. It burns through my blood, delicious and dark and perfect, but still... wrong. I am still empty of him, still not claimed, and no matter how good—oh god, so fucking good—it feels, I need more.
“Please... fuck me!” I manage to gasp out between yowls as he attacks my sensitive clit. “Please, please, please...!”
The fingers leave, and I sob with frustrated need for three full seconds before both return to my exposed pussy, finding their ultimate goal. My entrance stretches eagerly when he thrusts his thick digits into me and I push my hips back against him once more, automatically assuming the position of a submitting female.
“God!” My voice is a hoarse whimper, my breath quick and labored. So close. This is so close to what I need. I thrust back against him, encouraging him to go deeper.
“Impatient girl.” It sounds like a snarl against the back of my neck where he’s still holding me in place, but quiet laughter brushes over my skin. He finds amusement in my plight.
I let out a sound I’ve never produced before: an angry yelp, like an animal in pain. This is not fucking funny!
A third finger presses into my clenching sheath and I groan, immediately distracted. He’s stretching me deliciously, slowly pumping in and out, flexing his hand to spread me wider as he does.
“More, please!”
He releases my neck and obliges me, thrusting faster and as deep as he can. It’s not deep enough—my cervix is weeping to be battered and conquered, and despite the wonderful pressure against my walls where he’s spreading his fingers to widen me I feel anger at his incompetence flooding my brain now that my compliance isn’t assured by his bite.
“What’s wrong with you?” I snarl, forgetting myself—my place—in my desperate lust. “Fuck me! Are you not man enough? Take me!”
It’s the wrong thing to say. Of course it’s the wrong thing to say. He’s an alpha, the most aggressive among males, but for my goal it is also the perfect incentive: the one thing that will make him give me what I need right now.
His fingers leave me and are on my hips before I can gasp. His furious growl resonates through the park while he aligns me with his cock, prepared to punish me for my words. Even an alpha as powerful as he cannot let a challenge to his virility stand, no matter how firmly his claim to the top of the food chain is already established.
The tip of his hard length touches me, deepening just enough to ensure that my flesh has adapted sufficiently from his hand’s manipulation before his fingers dig painfully into my hips, assuring that I stay put.
And then he thrusts.
“Yes!” I cry out with bone-deep relief as I feel myself open around his invasion, but in the next moment I have to brace my hands against the tree-trunk, my pleasured outburst turning to deep grunts. He shoves his entire mass into me in that first, brutal thrust of his hips, flattening me against the tree with strength that far surpasses mine.
I have never, ever, been wrenched open like this, and had he not prepared me, my screams would be from agony. As it is, I grit my teeth against the massive intrusion, feeling him spread me open far wider and deeper than any man before him. But he is alpha, and my body adjusts to him because every instinct hot-wired into my DNA recognizes that he will accept nothing but complete submission.
He growls over me, behind me, forcing my weeping womb to coat his thick cock in even more liquids with the noise that vibrates from his chest into my back and down to my very core. I shudder in his grasp, moaning with forced pleasure when he rolls his hips against mine. There is no denying the need I have for this, nor how unbelievable it feels. I have a fleeting thought of finally understanding the women who shamelessly throw themselves at
any alpha they meet, before I have to dig my fingers into the bark and bite down on a scream. He’s picking up speed, battering my pussy into submission with each and every thrust, his grunts of pleasure accentuating the yelps that escape through my gritted teeth.
I have almost adapted to his rhythm when he shifts the bruising grip on my hips, one hand moving in front of my body where I’m pressed against the tree. He reaches his goal—my throbbing clit—and my world shatters. He rubs it roughly, just the way I need him to, and I lose all ability to hold myself upright.
“Please, please, please,” I sob when he pauses the deep pounding to shift his grip on me. “Don’t stop, please, please!” My pussy clamps down on his rigid cock and attempts to stimulate him into continuing the unrelenting ravaging. I arch backwards, pressing myself down so far on him that my cervix protests at the depth.
“Please, I need you!”
An iron band closes around my torso, underneath my breasts, propping me up against the tree despite my legs’ failing support. Once again his nimble fingers dance over my clit, faster and faster despite my wailing demands that he also fuck me, until every muscle in my body clenches.
Only then does he move.
The orgasm his skilled hands have pushed me to the edge of crashes over me like a cave-in with the first, brutal thrust into my quivering pussy, and every one that follows brings me higher. I clamp so hard around him I’m sure my release will force him to still, but no matter my body’s desperate efforts at containing the climax he only drives in harder. I cry, I scream, I beg for more as well as an end. My nails break on the roughened bark I desperately claw at, but only when he finally, finally, shouts out in a guttural outburst and freezes deep inside of me is my body allowed to ebb.
I sag in his arms, too spent to worry about the semen pulsing against my cervix, and moan softly with the small tremors of aftershock while I come down.
My mind is so exhausted, preoccupied with gasping in enough oxygen to not pass out and the small bursts of pleasure still firing through my nerve endings, that I don’t register the growing tension between my legs before the alpha grunts and wraps both arms tighter around my torso, shifting his hips a little so he can press in deeper.
