Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
She would not show her face, or her silent tears—her only view the sight of his thick cock, shiny with slick, infiltrating her body, just as his taunts penetrated her mind.
Shepherd stroked a hand up to grip her neck, pulled her closer until her breasts were flush to his chest, the location of their bond in contact. He held her so wet, green eyes were compelled to meet his. "Kiss me."
Claire felt it begin all over again. "No."
It was his show, it was always his show. Her life was his, her body too; but her lips were her own.
Her defiance only excited Shepherd more. With a low, animal growl, what had been unhurried became an all-out carnal attack. He turned them about, bouncing her on the mattress to pound the scented, pretty hole that sheathed him so perfectly. She screamed, filled the air with sobbed moans of his name. Shepherd held her by the nape, felt the strength of her climax lock on to his cock as he swelled and secured her to him. And though his hips were trapped by the knot, it did not stop the pad of his thumb from grinding against Claire's swollen clit.
He was merciless, pushed her past pleasure and to a point of overburdened sensation.
She tried to writhe away from his finger, the friction too strong, but could do nothing, pinned as she was. Begging in breathless catches of sound, Claire panted, "Shepherd, please stop."
Watching her lips form the words, dissecting the tortured desire and uncontrolled pleasure, he rubbed even faster. Snarling like a beast, still painting her womb with spurts of cream, he demanded, "Who do you belong to?"
There were tears leaking from eyes squeezed shut as she jerked and twitched from his abuse of her clit and the cramping orgasm, prolonged too far. "Pleeease, please stop... I can't..."
"WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?"
She was going to die, it was too much, the sensation so great it was agony. Everything went white, as if the world was made of nothing but blinding, horrid light that stripped her bare. Back arching, she sucked in air, like the first gasping breath of a newborn, and felt another wave of devastating contractions in her core. With a face full of pained pleasure, Claire gasped, "I belong to you!"
"That's right, little one," came a voice as if leagues away. The pinch on her nerves abated and she sobbed when the over-strong, extended climax began to abate. More waves of hot semen burned her from the inside when Shepherd purred, "You belong only to me."
The punishment had been brutal and it took him almost an hour to soothe her trembling muscles and ragged breath. Eyes shut tight, Claire burrowed into him, pressing hard, worried that should the contact vanish she might cease to exist.
With a stroke down her hip and back up again, the monster explained in a low, soft rumble. "If I ever smell another man's scent saturating you again, I will hunt down the male and rip off his limbs while you watch... then I will fuck you in the pool of his blood."
Her fingers simply clawed where she clung, digging in deep. "When you speak that way it frightens me."
Strangely, he hushed her as if comforting a child, gathering her tighter in his embrace.
Chapter 8
He just couldn't believe it. Shaking his head, hurting for her, Corday fought boiling anger. Rumors had spread like wildfire, varying stories of how an enclave of Omegas had been rescued.
That was the term Dome Broadcast used to describe it. Rescued.
And Claire was gone. Deep in his gut, Corday felt responsible—that he should have known the Omega would do what she felt was best—and hated himself for not seeing the signs.
Waking up on that lumpy couch, a crick in his neck from the odd angle, he'd realized at once what she'd done. Leaping to his feet, cursing up a storm, Corday had run out the door.
There had been no need to search, his hours racing through the city wasted. Had he simply turned on his COMscreen, a distorted version of the story—including footage of emaciated women accepting food—would have played on repeat. There had been no shot of Claire, or even Shepherd for that matter. But a short Beta known to be Shepherd's second-in-command was featured, offering blankets to the Omegas and directing Followers to see them to safety.
A lie.
Corday didn't know how Shepherd had found them, but after seeing the flyer and the outrageous bounty, he suspected that one of Claire's friends had betrayed her.
The thought broke his heart.
The Enforcer knew Thólos, understood what she was up against. Innocent Claire was too idealistic, too sweet, and no matter how willful she was, still Omega. She saw the world through the eyes of a caretaker, a nurturer—not a warrior.
From the look of the icy grounds surrounding the capture, from the steam of starving women's exhaled breath, it was the freezing Lower Reaches that had sheltered Claire's group—a dangerous place where more than just the subzero weather could kill you.