He chuckled. "I hope it doesn't make you too docile, though. I thoroughly enjoyed disciplining you—not that I will ever need a reason to spank you."
Those words should have made her furious, but it seemed that—when he was touching her there—nothing could faze her, not even that outrageous statement. She was already providing him with the evidence to back his words.
Very quickly, nearly all of her bravado and bluster and rebellion and resistance left her, and the only thing she cared about was that he wouldn't stop what he was doing, even though he had driven—was driving—her out of her mind.
And then he stopped, and, had she been free to do so, she would have grabbed for him, for his arm, at the very least. As it was, all she could do was mewl and writhe pitifully as he purred at her to calm her while he rearranged himself so that he was lying between those beautiful thighs of hers, the weeping head of his cock already nuzzling the dripping entrance to her body.
But Zerk felt her stiffen and try to pull away from him when he did that, the hypnotic spell he had carefully crafted around her dissolving in the face of the pain she knew he meant to inflict on her again as she tried—however futilely—to close her legs to him, but it was much too late for her. It had become too late for her the moment in his office that he'd recognized that she was coming into heat.
Instead of getting angry, though, he cupped her cheek gently in his hand. "Shhh, little girl. It should be easier for you to take me this time as you get used to being bred and your body learns to conform to my size more easily. Yes, there will be pain when I hook you and when we are knotted together, but I promise that even those things you dread now will only enhance things for you later."
She stared up at him through lust filled eyes she could no longer focus, trying to decide whether or not to believe him, and then Cat realized that it didn't really matter whether or not she believed him. He was going to do that horrendous thing that her body craved even more this time than ever before, again. She was more helpless and less able to defend herself than she had been since she was the little girl he kept teasingly calling her. And she hated that almost worse than any other part of this whole bizarre turn of events.
This time, though, he didn't just shove himself into her and fuck her in a manner that seemed designed to be as uncomfortable for her as possible. Instead, he eased himself into her bit by bit—and it wasn't good and it wasn't pleasant; it was excruciatingly fantastic and she never wanted it to end. That overwhelming feeling of those sensitive folds being forced open around him, of being invaded and claimed and taken—even though it was everything she would have railed against at any other time—had her actually canting her hips beneath him, trying to get him to move more quickly.
Of course, that drew a short, sharp chuckle that splashed a bit of cold water on her excitement, but it didn't abate for long.
"Someone's gotten quite eager, hasn't she?" he teased, not moving any more quickly, and in fact, holding her hips down so that there was no chance that she was going to have any say in how quickly he took her.
Cat nearly shrieked in a deep frustration she knew she shouldn't want to feel, but he simply grinned down at her in that insufferable manner he had, and she gathered whatever shreds of will and dignity she still had around her and forced herself not to struggle to do that which she would have sworn a few minutes ago that she never would.
But she couldn't stop herself from releasing a long, satisfied groan when he finally claimed as much of her as he physically could, even though he was bumping up against something within her that actually hurt her a bit every time he did it.
Still, it was wondrously magnificent to have every inch of herself utterly filled, which only added to her passionate arousal, to the deep aches he seemed to conjure effortlessly within her and not relieving any of them.
Then that palm was on her cheek again, and he tilted her eyes to his. "Take a deep breath."
She could barely understand what he meant before all of that too good to be true pleasure dissolved as if it had never been, and she found herself caught again, in that agonizing way he'd done every time. He pressed himself into her, and her greatly increased sensitivity to him made Cat feel as if he was trying to tear her apart from the inside. Tears flooded her eyes again, much more readily than they would have before.
Zerk saw her eyes fill then overflow, seeping down into her hairline and beyond, since she didn't have much in the way of hair to stop it. That had a strange, unexpected effect on him, making him want to soothe her almost as much as he wanted to fuck her. And he knew just how to best accomplish both of those things.
Big fingers found their way back to where they had been before he'd possessed her, to where he could christen them and apply them to a clit that he was becoming deliciously familiar with, and that—despite her obvious pain—he could tell was nonetheless much larger than it had been when he'd left it. Flicking the rough tips of two fingers over the very tip of the nose of her clit had her moving beneath him in a way that had to be hurting her, considering the sharp anchor he'd embedded within one of the most sensitive parts of her body, but she didn't seem to notice.
He felt as if he'd discovered a very valuable treasure as he began to move slowly within her, the tip of his cock nudging her cervix with each motion. That had her groaning and trying to move away from him at first, but eventually, she began to enjoy even that, panting nearly as hard as he was as he held himself back in order to increase her pleasure.
Zerk continued to brush and rub and pluck and tease her where she most wanted him to, even if she could never admit it, as his cock moved, and thus, the barb she'd suffered through him seating in short, sharp thrusts. He knew she was much more caught up in her heat—in the web of need and desire and passion—than she had been with him. It was a transformation unlike any other he'd ever seen, played out on her face and in the unmistakable responses of her body.
Even being pierced by him aroused her to no end now, even if—or perhaps because—it still had to hurt her on some level, while it stimulated her body's already greatly increased hormones to receive his seed and prepare itself to breed.
The difference in how her body was reacting to him—not just there, but everywhere—was incredible. She was more relaxed and pliant, and because of that, he could feel that she was taking every bit of him for the first time, really, his tight balls nudging her lips with each stroke.
The moment wasn't far away, though, when he wouldn't be able to move much at all anymore, and he wanted her to have found her release at least once before that. So, he began to flick that little nub with more purpose, watching her avidly as she couldn't help but move herself—as much as she could, which wasn't much—beneath him. She tugged at her wrists, her head rolling restlessly back and forth, eyes heavy lidded and mostly closed at first, although the closer she got to her climax, the wider they opened.
Cat looked a bit frightened as he continued to stroke her, and he knew she didn't understand what was happening to her, so he began to purl at her again, which he had eased off of while she was so involved in her own ecstasy, and the terrified look receded from her eyes. Mostly, anyway.
Zerk could feel her muscles gathering and tightening and knew she was very close. "That's it, baby. Here it is. This is for you; this is what I can—and will—bring you to every time I have you. Don't fight it—just let it happen, and I'll make it as good for you as I can."
And he made it damned good—too damned good!
She wasn't quite sure what he was driving her to, but Cat again acknowledged to herself that it didn't really matter—she was going there whether she wanted to or not. And it seemed to be quite a pleasant ride, despite the accompanying pain, and, for once, she did as he suggested and tried to just let it—whatever "it" was—happen.
It was well worth trusting him enough to do that. She was wound just about as tightly as she had ever been in her life. All of a sudden—as he surged powerfully into her, jostling that piercing quite a bit, but
it was simply added into the enormous pile of sensations—he let go of the string he'd held her with. She burst within herself in devastating spasms of complete ecstasy that seemed to translate to him, too, if his groans were anything to judge by while she clamped down on him strongly with each contraction, sometimes to the point of disabling him for a long moment, until she unclenched.
Since he continued to fondle her in just the right way, somehow, even the knotting, which had been hard on her before in a different way from the other thing—felt good to her as she found herself expanding tightly around him, fit to him as closely as a second skin, the discomfort she inevitably felt as she contracted only heightening her lustful neediness.
Under the expert touch of his surprisingly delicate fingers, she careened wildly from one peak to another, and they only seemed to increase in strength. He didn't let her even begin to come down until he was nearly drained—which happened more quickly than usual because of how the strength of her spasms served to milk his spunk out of him. And he carefully, deliberately, didn't separate them as he might have but merely turned them so that he could fit her into the curve of his body. She found herself literally surrounded and still somewhat impaled by the most potent and powerful Alpha male in the known world.
Cat couldn't think—couldn't even begin to try to think—and when he began to rock her and that rumbling began in his chest again, all she could do was surrender to and even welcome how it soothed and calmed her. His hands were never idle as he touched every bit of her as if he was going to leave some sort of indelible imprint on her body that proclaimed his ownership of her, but it felt reassuring and was just what she needed at that moment. Cat might have protested—had she been in her right mind—that she didn't need any of that stuff and particularly not to be rocked by him, which he began almost immediately. But then again, no. Even if she had been sane, she wouldn't have asked him to stop that. It felt too damned good.
He was talking to her. She couldn't fathom the words yet, but the sound of his voice was almost as relaxing as the purring, so she allowed herself—just this once—to indulge in letting him make her feel good. And she did that, better than she might have wanted to, considering the circumstances.
She had no mind for protests and defiance, at least for the moment. She wished he'd give her her arms back, but she surprised herself by acknowledging why he might not, and she didn't dwell on that restriction he had placed on her. His arms were warm and strong around her, and for once, she didn't feel bad about being small. There was a veritable fortress of protective Alpha flesh around her, and for the first time in her life—in eighteen long, hard fought years—she actually let her guard down.
Zerk felt it when it happened. It truly stunned him that she had done that. He closed his arms around her gently, always cognizant of his size and strength and her lack of both, no matter how invincible she liked to think she was.
Chapter 6
During the height of her heat, which had lasted almost ten days, he had stayed with her the entire time. They had everything he deemed they needed there except for food, which was delivered to them regularly because it seemed that was how he had always had it arranged for himself. It eliminated his need to go out and get it for himself, which inevitably ended up with him becoming involved in other problems and situations and never actually getting to eat.
And he wasn't about to let that happen to her. She was already much too skinny—she would need sustenance in order to hold her own with him, even when she wasn't essentially insatiable.
He also made sure that she got enough sleep, although sometimes her exhausted body helped him with that, and she practically came and fell asleep in his arms within the same breath, he would swear. Sometimes, it seemed she could only fall asleep sniffling and hiccoughing, with a sore, stinging bottom that he had worn out because she refused to do so.
Since this was going to be her room, too, and she was going to be spending a lot of time in it, Zerk had Cat's things brought to his room, not that she had much, but he allowed her to keep her meager possessions in one of the drawers of his bureau. She had a small amount of clothing—mostly uniforms, and not a lot else besides a few trinkets, little of which was of much interest to him until his eye settled on one item, in particular, that she wished she'd never possessed.
She wondered who did these little errands for him—bringing food, emptying out her room—but within a few hours of her first orgasm, her mind was lost to her almost entirely. And—to her great mortification—she rarely thought about anything except how to get him to do that for her again. As she'd never had the urge to be that way with anyone else but him, she was no siren or vixen, but her glaringly obvious attempts to entice him back to his bed usually succeeded, although the laughter they elicited from him hurt her more than she could acknowledge in the moment.
She had even lowered herself—once and only once—to present herself to him, arranging herself on all fours on the bed so that her ankles were hanging off the side, just over the edge, then leaning down onto her elbows and consciously spreading her legs more than wide enough to accommodate his presence between them.
Cat could feel herself secreting a humiliatingly steady stream of her own dew down onto the already well-baptized bedclothes. She couldn't believe that she was doing this, but he had insisted on showering—without allowing her to do so—and he refused to take her until he'd cleaned up a bit.
So, that was the sight that greeted his eyes when he stepped out of the bathroom, and he abandoned the cloth he was using to dry himself in favor of taking her up on her offer with a long, low growl that incited an answering one in her as he sank himself into her.
It wasn't as if she wanted to act like that—she certainly didn't. But the combination of her rampant hormones, the frightening depths of her heat, and his presence within a thirty-mile radius of her, apparently, rendered her very little more than a brainless, eternally leaky, needy, weepy cunt.
Which, of course, was everything she had never wanted to be, and she was frankly surprised he put up with, but he could be quite patient with her—about some things.
She couldn't even stop herself from wanting him to fuck her when she was already terribly sore—inside and out. And, to her eternal horror and shame, she found she really wanted him once he'd punished her, which was sad but true, and she wished that neither one of them had discovered it.
Normally, he was up well before she was, and she usually awoke in his arms after he'd reached down to where she slept now to carry her to his bed, so that he could put her through that terribly humiliating process that she craved so much more than air or food, even though he'd barely been able to tear his hands from her the night before. As much as he wanted her, in particular, to rest, he sometimes had to literally force himself to stop mounting her long enough that the both of them could get some sleep.
That was one of the reasons she'd ended up where she was rather than sleeping in his bed, besides the fact that it reinforced her lowly new position in life. Cat sat up from the small pallet he'd made for her during her first days with him. It was on the floor at the end of his bed, and she had a thick, strong leather cuff around one ankle that kept her tied to one of those bolt holes that seemed to be everywhere she didn't want them to be in the floor of his room, no doubt put there by him so that he could tether whatever poor female he'd taken captive wherever was most convenient for him.
But, since the accompanying chain was long enough for her to lie next to him on the bed, but not to get into any other kind of mischief, he'd not moved it anywhere else—yet, anyway.
In fact, when they were alone, she was most often free, which had surprised her. But the door was locked from the inside while he was with her by a key that he wore around his neck on a considerably thick chain of something yellow and shiny, which, unless she could knock him unconscious, somehow, she doubted she'd ever be able to get from him. She had yet to get a chance to polish her lock picking skills on it because he was almost always in
the room with her, and when he wasn't, her chain didn't extend nearly that far.
And there was no getting out or breaking the chain that held her there, either. She'd tried most of the first night he'd fitted her with it, after laying her down on the relatively comfortable nest of clean, soft blankets—some of the first she'd ever encountered—he'd made for her atop a surprisingly clean, very small child's mattress. Her attempts to rid herself of it had come to a screeching halt, though, and she'd frankly held her breath when his voice drifted to her from the bed through the darkness.
He didn't sound angry, but his low tone was still full of a warning she was definitely learning to heed—when he bothered to give her one. It was also laced with not a small amount of amusement that annoyed her no end. "Apparently, I didn't wear you out nearly as much as I thought I did if you're up being naughty and trying to escape when you should be sleeping, quita."
Cat had sighed at that, abandoning her goals and lying there quietly—hating him—and herself—with everything she had until she finally did fall asleep.
She'd never worn a cuff herself, but she'd seen the scars some men in the militia bore that had been bound like that for some reason in the past, and she wondered if her ankle would end up all red with ugly scars, too. But he'd swapped it out the second day for one that was just as stiff and unforgiving but was lined with an incredibly soft material that felt like her ankle was surrounded by a cloud.
He saw her looking astonished at it. "Well," he said, almost defensively, "your skin is damned near flawless, and I made that so that it would stay that way."
"You made this?" she couldn't help asking.
"I did."
He was a strange man, by all accounts. He was horrendously strict with her, punishingly her severely for even the smallest of infractions. His mentioning that she wasn't likely to ever sit easily around him wasn't bragging—it was her reality. And yet he took the time to do something like that. She didn't think that most men would ever even have considered it. Granted, he'd done it so that he wouldn't mar her, not for her comfort, but still.
An Omega's Awakening (Alpha's Woman Book 4) Page 7
