Page 46 of Dark Company

Reaching in between us, I drag my fingers through her lower lips, groaning at the silken, slippery feel of her body. Karis clamps her legs around my thigh, trying to deny me access, but my leg is nearly as big as her waist. There’s no way she can keep me from what I really want.

Staring into those beautiful gray eyes, I slide a finger in, my cock twitching as her inner walls clamp down on the thick digit. Her brain may not want me, but her body does. It’s a start at least.

I increase the pressure at her throat, cutting off just the smallest amount of air. The moment she stops hyperventilating, she’ll know that she has more than enough to live. Easing my finger out, I slide it in again, but go deeper, curling it until it reaches the spot that made her cry out several times during her heat.

Will she scream for me again?

Her moan is so soft, I nearly miss it. Her eyes glare daggers at me, but her hips rise of their own accord, her body desperate for release. A smile curls my lips as I watch her, playing her body like a finely tuned instrument. She wants release so badly. Her desperation coats the air.

But she’ll not get it from me. Not like this.

Pulling out, I grip her hips and turn her so that she’s face down. Once more, I put my knee in between her thighs, but this time, it’s more for tormenting that small bundle of nerves at her apex. What I’m planning can be done whether or not she squeezes her legs together.

I bend over her back to claw at the nest, dismantling the parts closest to her face so she can breathe. At my actions, her body explodes into a flurry of movement as she thrashes about, snarling and growling. Without missing a beat, I palm the back of her head and force her face down into the mass of material, holding her there until her frantic heartbeats tell me she’s learned her lesson.

“I didn’t want you to suffocate, you silly girl. You can put your nest back together when I’m done with you.”

Sobs wrack her body as she curls into the remaining nest. “You’re a monster!”

Sorrow floods my end of the bond, slamming into me until I nearly squirm in discomfort, but it’s her cries that hit me in the heart. It’s never my intention to make her cry like that. I turn her over into my arms so I can cradle her when all tears vanish. Once more, she lashes out, her nails raking at my skin in an attempt to claw at me.

Anger burns hot in my gut as I stare down at this conniving wench. It seems the gods have played a cruel joke on me. Instead of granting me my wish for a docile omega, they gave me a hellion straight from the pits of Arnakas. I knew my soul was tainted, but to curse me with this?

Our bond is not the loving warmth I was led to believe it would be. Instead, it twists about like a fish on land, gasping for life. It’s mangled and twisted, full of anger, fear, regret and recrimination. This isn’t the life I wanted. If I knew a bond could cause so much strife, so much anguish, I would have been satisfied to keep to my lonely existence.

But now, I have no choice. We are both bonded together, whether or not we want to be. Karis stares up at me, her lips twisted into an angry sneer. It reveals her teeth as she bares them at me, snapping as if to bite me again. Shaking my head, I toss her back onto her stomach and pull up her hips so that her ass dances in front of my face.

Perhaps a little taste of humiliation will tame her, at least a little. I don’t know much about female anatomy, but now, I have an unwilling omega to learn on. Sliding my hand down to the back of her neck, I pin her to the mass of fabrics, holding her firm as I stuff a wad of pillows and blankets in between her thighs to keep them open.

I don’t give a damn that I’m messing up her nest. I don’t care that her heart rends in two with every pull and rip. Even with the bond, I can no longer tell what’s real or her trying to get a reaction. Pain zips through the mark on my shoulder as I move about, but I force my brain to ignore it.

I’ve had much larger wounds before and still could fight. I’ll have to see to it eventually, but right now, I have to show this feisty omega who’s in charge. I shouldn’t have to, though. This should be as easy as breathing. Damn Annora. Though I never thought I’d ever harbor ill will towards another, especially one that’s over me, the hatred I have towards Annora burns deep.

If only she told me Karis was an omega. Hell, it goes much deeper than that. The very fact that Karis wears that cursed beta mark is a result of her. I knew Gemhardt for many years. He never interfered with Annora and Karis once he was with the rebellion, so every action lies squarely on Annora’s shoulders.

I don’t even fault Gemhardt. There’s no telling who infiltrated our camps. If he revealed the true nature of either girl, it could have put not only them, but the rest of the rebellion at risk. Gemhardt rode on a razor’s edge when it came to his sanity. He was a powerful man, the strongest I’ve ever known. But he had his weak moments.

Only Leon, Langston, and I ever saw him break down. We were his safe space, the three people he could always count on. What would he think to see Karis acting this way? Knowing him, he’d take her over his lap and spank her for her behavior. He never seemed to be one to shirk on punishment.

Keeping a firm hold on Karis’s neck, I bring my hand back and smack the upturned cheek, watching in fascination as the skin below changes from a pale color to red then back to pale. It’s intoxicating. Though she squirms and screeches like I’m killing her, I no longer care. She’s had this spanking coming for probably her whole life, and far be it from me to be one more person to let her down this way.

I smack the other cheek, noting the similar change in color. Karis bucks up against me, thrashing as best as she can, but it’s moot. My firm grip keeps her planted, no doubt adding to the rage I feel rising through her, threatening to suffocate me through the bond.

So much anger. So much resentment. So much hurt. The more I spank her, the more her feelings become muddled, morphing into the underlying cause of everything. Under everything, at the very core of her being, lies a nugget of pain. It’s hot and spiky, as if one of the suns themselves threw a piece of their fiery vortex into her heart to fester.

Every time I try to touch it, to soothe it, the prickles transform, turning into rusted knives that cut us both. Karis sobs underneath me, but this time, it’s not an act. I can feel each scalding teardrop as if it’s landing on my soul. I want to help her; I want to make this better, but I lack the tools. I’m not a man that deals in the currency of affection. I don’t know how to make this right.

All I know is that my spanking her is letting the suppressed emotions out. It’s giving her a safe space to spew all that rage and hatred. What I still don’t understand is what she has to be so angry about. She’s so young, at least a third of my age. She hasn’t even had a chance to see the world and find out what a dangerous place it truly is.

By all rights, she’s innocent, devoid of the experiences that would turn her this jaded. Despite the pain, despite the agony that sore spot causes, I delve deeper, forcing it to come to the surface. It’s like acid in my soul, as if Karis’s whole being is tainted. But that can’t be. I refuse to believe that there isn’t some good in her.

Pulling back out, I continue to spank her, not wanting to push the issue any further. Karis continues to sob, but the sound changes from angry tears to a gurgled choking, as if the emotions are so much that they’re clogging her throat, making her unable to spit them out.

Her ass is a mottled red with bruises starting to peek through. Guilt slams into me as I stare down at the blotchy mess. I never intended for this to go that far. I only wanted to teach her a lesson, not harm her. I’m not sure I should even continue; the hold on my sanity is tenuous, about to snap.

Seeing her like this only makes me want to bring more violence to her body, to make her sing with the pain I inflict, to make her cry out for me. Will I be able to stop? The small voice inside my brain cries out, demanding I stop before I do something I regret. But even as the guilt tries to eat me up from the inside out, I look down and stare at her lower lips, shocked by the amount of slick gathering.

It’s so much that it drips from her body and infuses into the fabric below. Can it be that somewhere deep inside, she finds the pain pleasurable? Is it like with me and that damned milking machine, or is this something different? Sliding my spanking hand up to rest on her back, I give her a moment to calm down as I travel through the bond back into her.