“I asked you a question.” He caught her hair, fingers tight against her scalp as he jerked her head back until the line of her throat was exposed and vulnerable.
Jaw clenched, lips pursed, she glared. Of course she was hungry, and he damn well knew it.
“Not hungry for food? I can feed you something else I know you enjoy.”
“Fine, yes, I’m hungry,” Quinn said, hissing through a strained breath. Fingers curled over the edge of the mattress so she wouldn’t claw his eyes out. “I want food. Just get the fuck off of me.”
“I’m tending my Omega.” Tilting her head further back until she had to fight for every thin breath, cold green eyes bore into smoky gray.
“I wantnothingfrom you.”
“You’ll relish the attention I give you. You’ll be grateful for the care you were so desperate for.”
Demanding what he had no right to, she sneered. Quinn couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t bear the feel of him inside of her, still tight with the promise of pleasure a simple twitch away. The way his presence, so close, made her want to purr and hum. Tightening her grip on the mattress, she pulled, lurching away.
Searing violet pain throbbed against the back of her eyes, exploded through her as she managed scant inches from him. Still hard and thick, the knot tethered her to him. Delicate skin began to tear, insides wrenched into agonizing disorder. Arms shaking, weak as water, she collapsed back onto the bed.
Panting, sweat covered her in a clammy film. Kahler’s snarled words were lost in the crushing darkness of his rage. Half aware of rushing feet, the slam of the door seemed to come from a long way off. She would have screamed if she’d had the breath to when he rolled, covering her with his bulk, shoving his cock home.
“You’ll take what I give you.” The words were a promise delivered on a harsh, rattling call. His hand was already shoving under her hip, nails scoring flesh as he sought out her clit. Like a flower opening to the sun, the delicate nub was swelling and pushing free of its hood, pulsing with her erratic heartbeat.
Head whipping in denial against the mattress, Quinn shrieked and bucked, fighting to ignore the brutal pleasure that zapped up her spine.
There wasn’t even a hope of a chance. Rumbling against her back, he pushed the dark resonance into her body until Quinn’s struggles diverged. Arching her hips up into his, a jumbled mass of sounds that tread a fine line between pleas and fury tumbled from her lips.
“That’s it, sweetness,” he said through the aggressive growl. His weight pushed her flat, stilling her writhing to erratic twitches. Grinding his hips against her ass, his arm looped tight around her shoulders, pressing against her throat to stifle her breath. “You take everything I give you.”
The last strands of coherent thought disintegrated under his determined violation, spider silk in the morning sun as skilled hands played her body like an instrument. Again and again, he brought her to the brink, refusing to allow her to tip over the edge into oblivion. Not until the knot abated enough for him to fuck her.
Knowing she was moaning, that her loud wanton cries were praising the Alpha and his mastery of her, Quinn still couldn’t stop the sounds she made. The pleading whines for him to take what was his, to give her what she wanted, what her bodyneeded.
When the knot came again, forcing her body to stretch and rearrange to accommodate him, she screamed and sobbed. There were tears, but she couldn’t say if they were relief or desperation.
He only allowed her to drift for a short while before he began his game again.
Another blanket had been brought for her when Kahler left. While it smelled of him, it also bore the unmistakable fragrance of her slick. Quinn had tried to distract herself from the increasing need to nest on the narrow mattress covered in far fresher scents by speculating on that. Huddled in the corner as far away from the stomach churning miasma as she could get, gray eyes fixed on the floor to avoid seeing it all together.
Fingering the velvety nap, she tried to call up some memory of the throw. There was nothing clear. The dusty blue color and velvety softness of it was neither familiar nor unfamiliar. It was impossible to dismiss the fact that, with the prominent musk and sweetness, it had been preserved from any laundering.
He had saved it from her previous nest. To what end?
Realizing she was already crawling across the floor towards the bed, Quinn snarled and threw herself back into the corner. Knocking her head against the wall, the disorienting shiver that rippled across her vision was all too brief. The dull throb in the base of her skull only made her want to go to what would offer serenity and comfort all the more.
There wasn’t even the twisting hunger to concentrate on anymore. Kahler had fed her from his fingers, little bites of succulent meat and crispy vegetables slipped between slack lips as he purred and encouraged her to eat. When she grew too lucid, he had swiped the thick mess from between her legs, coating lips and tongue with the taste of them both. Every bite had been like manna from the heavens.
Whatever his ploy, he’d seen that she’d fed until she was full. Not until she whined and tried to snuggle in his arms had he stopped. It wasn’t long after that he’d quit her.
Raw and swollen, her pussy ached with the remembered feel of him pulling free. Still hard, the full swell of his knot still thick and pulsing, he’d made a show of brushing at the stains covering his pants before pulling them on. As if even that paltry claim disgusted him. He’d grumbled something about laundry to Curtis as one left and the other entered. The blanket had been dropped without ceremony by the mattress, tray retrieved. She’d been left alone once again.
Tears welled, wavering before spilling over her lashes. There was no one to see how low she’d fallen, how miserable she was. Omegas had no rights, no claims, nothing. It didn’t matter that she needed to feel… well, anything. She didn’t have to be strong just now.
Quinn didn’t correct her path when she found herself nearing the mattress once more. Instead she dragged the blanket to the sad mess with her. Hands shaking as she struggled to shift the few items into something that broke her heart more than it soothed, she cried ugly tears and didn’t care who heard her.
Chapter 8
There was some game going on, and Quinn was certain she didn’t know what it was. She was just as sure she was losing.
The passing of time was measured by how many trays Curtis brought, but there were instances where it felt he came much too soon and others where he took ages to reappear. It might have been a month, but it could have been more or less.
