Ravaged Captive (Wren's Song 4)

Chapter 1

Soft, reverent.

A kiss was pressed to the sensitive skin behind the spent mouse’s earlobe. And though he was rarely delicate, another followed the juncture of her jawline and neck. Caspian’s lips raking down the line of her throat until he set his teeth over the most vicious of his claiming marks. Biting down, a full body shudder left him loudly purring. The First Alpha relived the pinnacle of his victory over his captive Omega, teeth punched forward until his panting prize went stiff.

Slender neck in his mouth, the scent of familiar female, of her cum-laced slick, and just a soupçon of blood.

It was splendid.

So was her tiny taste of pain.

She should not have hidden herself in the Warrens. She should not have dared to deny him what was his.

But she trembled even in her pleasure. She starved. She thirsted.

She stank of equal parts shock, desire, anxiety, and resolve.

Teeth digging again into his claiming mark, Caspian could feel more than the distant flicker of her emotions—he could also feel her sudden swamp-thick mortification.

“I thought I was your new little girl.”

Eyes lifting, mud-brown irises slid over what had set the female into such a state.

Kieran.

Kieran and his doll.

The new female dared a territorial whine. An Omega call for attention.

Time and time again, Caspian had seen this scene play out. New little girls held the foolish belief upon joining the ranks that their novelty held power. They hissed and scratched until a few months in the pen broke such undesirable behavior. Or made them more cunning.

Blue eyes narrowed in animosity, curled lip—the doll with her bleached-white hair and soft pink dress was a long way from cunning.

With a snarl, Kieran turned on the female glued to his side, the one he had been fucking for the past week. “You were ordered never to speak!”

Bought and paid for, the Omega should have known better than to argue. “But…”

The little female with wet eyes and aghast expression, the one who stumbled when Kieran shoved her in warning, turned her attention back to Caspian’s mouse.

At the female Kieran had made her up to mimic.

And fat tears fell.

They were nothing like the tracks on the mouse’s dirty cheeks. Despite the forward thrust of her lip and the jumping of feminine shoulders, the act smacked of disingenuity. Not even Rosie pulled that move.

Fake tears were the work of less domesticated whores.

And the interloper’s antics were clearly upsetting his mouse.

Nameless aggravation buzzed under Caspian’s skin. It mutilated the bliss of knotting the mewling Omega, and stole away a portion of his triumph.

Purr pouring over his mouse, the one that had let her know that he might be savage, but that he would not hurt her, warped into a deadly growl.

Theatrics cut short on a sniff, the doll dropped her eyes to the ground and wisely took several steps back.

Intruding female silenced, Caspian’s attention returned to filling the hungry cunt wrapping his cock. Rocking his hips, distracting the pretty mouse from her cringing embarrassment, it didn’t take long before she lowered her lashes.

Such good behavior altered the First’s vicious growl into something almost tender.

After a pathetic cringe, the Omega’s internal muscles clenched, squeezing Caspian’s aching cock. Grinding his knot in a twist of muscle, the female’s greedy pussy managed to suck his balls bone dry, syphoning out one last, lingering spurt.

Pinpricks of pleasure gathered in the Alpha’s drained sack. Sensations merged like crashing waves that broke in an erratic throb, pumping his engorged knot to a greater mass—cock kicking, eyelids drooping.

The extended groan that spilled like honey, rattled loudly—a week’s worth of pent up sexual tension draining right out of his dick. Pulsating in the rhythm of his pounding heartbeat, Caspian’s knot held fast, even though his body would need time to prepare fresh sperm.

This knot, this fuck, was about so much more than cum. It was about domination.

About punishment with forced pleasure.

Ownership.

Need.

He needed to keep her pinned to that table no matter how much her little legs kicked, no matter her grunts and frustrated sighs… no matter unwanted intrusions. No matter her shame to have another female glare at the sad picture she made.

He would keep the mouse knotted until she knew what she was.

His.

Fuck credits and a year’s worth of water. That’s not what she needed. Caspian would drown her in enough of him that water would be nothing. And money? He’d get her body addicted to the only currency that mattered between Alpha and Omega. And if she ever tried to hide from him for a week again, he’d have her chained to his goddamn bed. He’d fuck her until she forgot her name.

He’d revel in Toby working her ass, in Kieran shoving his dick between her parted lips.

She’d know nothing but pleasure until she purred incessantly. Until she clamped those lavender eyes on him and gave him the attention she’d dare denied hiding herself away.