Already, he could feel his knot thickening, for he’d been too long without her tight little quim milking him dry. He’d be quick this time. And he’d make no effort to drag this out.
No.
Giaus was taking what he wanted from his Queen. That was her purpose. To spread for him. To beg for his knot and breed for him.
Huffing against her throat, he licked at salted flesh. Taking the globes of her ass in both palms, he spread her wide open and began to truly rut. Feeling the bloated edge of his knot as he worked it between the slippery lips of her cunt, he reveled in that which was his to abuse. Made her ride his girth and forced his knot in.
The way only her true mate could.
Pulled it out, and forced it in again. Thrilled by the way her body yielded to him, no matter that the litter in her womb wasn’t his. That the kits were Omega, and her body hungered for an Alpha? It would make a strong batch of younglings, to be sure. For no matter what he’d told her, there was a measure of truth to that old milkmaid’s tale.
If the breeding female didn’t have enough attention from the sire, her body would abort the litter to protect the dam in the event of the sire’s absence. No nesting female, no matter her caste, could raise six or more young alone. It was the nature of their species; with one female born to every three males, evolution had needed a way to protect the most vulnerable.
Even if that meant protecting the females, above all else.
But if the sire was relentless in his efforts and mounted her daily, the healthier their offspring would be.
Giaus would see these kits fed with the essence of an Alpha in his prime.
Grunting and growling, he took her like a beast.
He could feel the eyes of his pack as they gathered to watch, still as stone. Lurking in the dark. Each and every one of them stopped to watch their King rut his Queen—and Giaus loved it. Fucked her all the harder, though true, some part of him remained leery of her condition. Was careful not to batter her cervix as hard and ruthlessly as he wished he could.
And when his balls tightened, he didn’t hold back. Instead, he crushed her against his chest, buried his teeth atop the old claiming marks, and forced his knot inside her before it truly bloomed.
“Take it,” he hissed through spittle and blood. Imprinting the words against her shoulder as he filled her narrow passage with cum and a knot worthy of his Queen.
Panting, Renegade did as she was told. Internal muscles clamping around his girth, she locked him there and milked his cock. Trying to force an orgasm he’d been too selfish to provide. Too self-indulgent to ensure she came first, for his Queen was nothing if not well attended.
And it felt so fucking good to let her work him like that.
Struggling and fluttering around him.
Sighing, he stepped back, taking her with him as he retreated to the nest with arms full of Renegade. Cock seated, belching hot cum into his mate who’d grown surly and quiet. In want of an orgasm of her own, no doubt.
He’d enjoy watching her ride him, he decided, settling into the furs with her astride his thighs.
“You’re an asshole,” Renegade drawled, though her voice lacked the heat her words implied. For she’d gotten exactly what she’d demanded of him. A thick knot. His undivided attention.
Sickle shuffled in the nest, moving clear of his Alpha. Feral eyes gleaming in the semi dark. “May I?” he asked, taking careful steps until he had claimed Renegade’s back.
And though Giaus felt he should snarl and rage at the other male, he found himself doing something truly mad.
He purred.
Watching the slender Omega male who’d taken his knot so well, Giaus’ cock stiffened with sordid memory.
When Sickle dared to slip both hands around Renegade’s hips? Parting her folds to reveal the obscenely swollen bead of her clit, the stretched pink lips of her pussy?
Giaus chuffed, turning his Omegas into a pair of pliant, hungry pets. “Make her cum, boy. Milk your King dry.”
Chapter 18
Startling, Renegade woke to overbearing heat lining her back, front, and everything between.
Giaus.
He was still inside her. Knotted deep and immovable, the massive Feral Alpha’s hips continued to pump her, even as he dosed. She could feel him kicking and twitching, the occasional volley of sticky heat making her guts clench and twist.
Nirvana to a breeding Omega with a litter to think of.
A Queen.
A set of lips on her lowest set of nipples distracted her only slightly more than the deft fingers moving to work her swollen cunt.
Sickle, that nasty little slut. Lapping and feasting on all the royal pair had to offer. Eyes shining black as pitch when he glanced up and found her awake. Deep in the rut, her little Omega male. Drunk on breeding pheromones and Alpha sperm, both.
But no matter the size of her nesting pit, nor the many other members of the pack who likely needed to rest—or fuck—none had dared to enter while the King took his pleasure.
Renegade stretched, making sure to arch her back and work her Alpha’s knot in a way that saw him snarl in his sleep. Burrowing deeper, he crushed her ribs with naught but a careless flex of those massive, burly arms. Wrapped her in safety and ferocious protective instincts that weren’t even close to normal.
“Giaus,” she wheezed, making him growl, fucking into her once, twice, before pumping another soft load into her churning depths. “Wake up, you great savage beast. I have questions.”
Instead of speaking, he grunted. Lapping at the fresh mating scars he’d left at her nape. Took a breath of her scent.
“I want you to return to the Krust,” Renegade said, reaching up to cup at the stubble on his cheek. And when he went still and silent at her back, she offered a hearty purr to soothe. “Or at the very least,” she continued, arching just a little when Sickle slithered down, to suckle at her clit, “send a raiding party.”
Giaus hummed.
“I have a shopping list fit for a Queen,” she purred, twisting to lick at his cheek. Tasting his lips. “I’ve had quite enough of rags and furs; I want a seamstress. And if I’m to nest for you, I’ll need another handmaiden or two. Perhaps more. Oh,” she said with a careless flick of her tail, breath coming in shallow pants, “and make sure they come from a similar background as that of precious Camille, hmm? I’m growing rather fond of her brand of loyalty.”
Giaus rumbled and caught her throat. Forced her to still as he inhaled her breath. Fucking her from behind, his free hand snaked over her hip to land in Sickle’s tousled mane. Forcing the slight Omega male to stay where he was. To service his Queen properly, so she might milk the King of anything he had left.
Renegade grinned, pleasure building in a lazy wave of one who didn’t have to see to her own needs. “Oh, yes,” she cooed, her three tails held clear, allowing her mate the freedom to do as he wished. “If I’m to rule this pack, I cannot have sucklings constantly underfoot. In my nest.” She paused, then. Tweaking nipples that had grown red with abuse. Lifting her knee to give Sickle better access. And then, “Have the Betas build me a nursery.”
“Anything else?” her mate asked, lacking the irritated lilt she’d expected to hear. Instead, there was only patient amusement.
Indulged—encouraged, even—Renegade smiled something truly wicked, and said simply, “A throne.”
Selfish prick that he was, Giaus grunted in answer, spewing exhausted lust into her depths yet again.
A Sneak Peak at Defending the Renegade Omega…
Panting heavily, the beast moved from rutting to eating with little discernible effort. Crunching bone and sinew from his very temporary mate even as he tore head from shoulders and lapped at the gore with tail wagging.
The Primus.
Even after all this time as his captive, the slight female cowered before such a sight, for she knew the Primus hadn’t been entertained by that Beta male long enough to spare her
from his heinous attentions.
She knew what was coming for her should her plan fail.
Feigning sleep, she curled in on herself, wrapping around and around her emaciated, broken frame in a sad attempt to stop the shakes from rattling her bones apart.
The Primus shook his mighty head, flung the headless corpse clear over the nearest tree, and stretched his mutant frame. Shuddering and shaking until she could scent his musk, all the way on the other side of the compound. His heavy cock dribbled, leaving stringy unsatisfied blobs where it brushed against the pine needles sticky with unspeakable things. And though he eyed her cage with a gleam she knew all too well, he seemed content to laze in the sun.
At least for now.
She waited only long enough to hear the oppressive rattle of his snore before she uncoiled. Moving slow enough not to be heard, yet fast enough to accomplish her task, she slipped fingers long twisted by abuse through the bars of her cage and jimmied a bone splinter through the lock. Wiggled it until she felt the latch click, and offered a moment of thanks to the tiny female whose marrow had given her this chance.
Then she moved to the other cages.
Not nearly brave enough to chance even a glance over her shoulder lest she lose her nerve, she focused instead on the rumble she could feel in her chest and prayed the Primus would sleep for just a little longer…
The other beasts, however? They took notice of her actions. Watched her with murky, glazed eyes as she left their cages open—knowing they knew better than to attempt escape with the Primus so near.
She also knew the whisper of freedom—even to those whose brains were rotted and their minds turned to mush—would override that instinctive submission eventually.
And then she would take her chance, knowing it meant sacrificing each and every one of them.
To save herself.
With several dozen cages left unlocked, the female hobbled back to her prison, slipped through the narrow opening, and pulled the gate shut with a clang that jerked the Primus from his slumber—and made the infected jitter. Nervous, reeking of terror and piss.
Rolling, the Primus cast a baleful glare over his shoulder, looking for the disturbance.
An instant of his terrible attention was all the push they needed.
Howling, the first of the mindless infected charged free, barreling from one terrible death to another, they tried to flee. Dwarfed by the Primus, diseased Betas washed over him, though not a single one tried to fight. Oh, no. The Primus had shown them over and over and over again that he was the strongest male of the bunch. Maybe ever. He’d demonstrated what he would do those who didn’t simply lay down and take whatever sick punishment oozed from his head.
The Betas saw their chance to avoid a truly grotesque death beneath bloated, mutant cock, even if it meant running straight into the maw of one that was easier. For even through their rotten brains, they’d choose to die swiftly over what they’d seen.
Pausing at the sight of truly magnificent bloodshed, the tiny, abused female took a breath for those who fell so she might attempt to live, then fled.
The only hint the Primus had of her escape, was a flash of three muddy, white tails as she slipped into the wood…
FREE BOOK! Tentacles From the Deep
Don’t want to miss the next filthy release? Sign up for my newsletter by clicking this link, or join my Facebook group, M.D. Pentacles’ Infernal Coven, for sneak peaks, free shit, and weird as hell pics!!
Hunting the Renegade Omega—An Omega unlike any other, Renegade rejects her society and lives as a wild thing. Until her heat comes, and she is forced to seek male attention… but she catches more than she bargained for…
Conquering the Renegade Omega—She left the six males after drinking her fill and taking just enough to get her through her heat, but the scent of a breeding female has drawn the attention of a far greater foe… Can Renegade escape before the Feral Alpha claims her for good?
Taming the Renegade Omega—The Feral Alpha has claimed his mate, but can he tame her, or will he have to chain her in place even as he takes his fill of the Queen of the beyond? Out here, Giaus is King, and the King shall have his legacy…
Crowning the Renegade Omega—Kept and cared for, Renegade chafes at the doting attention of her males. Longing for the freedom now utterly beyond her short leash… Life in the beyond is hard, but it can always get darker…
Craving something else from the vault? Give Tentacles from the Deep a whirl, and see why the youngest apprentice warlock in a thousand years can barely handle the queen of the deep…
M.D. Pentacles
M.D. Pentacles is fond of speaking in the third person because she feels it’s an accurate representation of the fracture in her psyche and the legions who’ve made themselves comfy up inside her brains. This crack goes deep—Hell deep—but that’s okay because M.D. grew up wrangling the darklings and by this point is mostly just tired of their shit, yet happy to give the raunchy darlings a voice. After a brief episode of perception-altering insanity, M.D. realized she had two options: keep the filthy chaos to herself and risk causing a super massive black hole with the ensuing implosion, or share her slutty demons with those brave enough to join her in embracing the chaos...
She’s chosen the latter and doesn’t care about the consequences.
Join her Facebook group:
M.D. Pentacles’ Infernal Coven
Follow me on:
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16585747.M_D_Pentacles
Bookbub Deals: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/m-d-pentacles
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/MDPentacles/
Crowning the Renegade Omega WIDE Page 7
