Page 4 of Taken By the Tanker

In the darkness, I allow a smirk to lift my lips.

The more metal looms above our heads, the harder she shakes. The deeper we descend into the belly of the tanker, the quieter she becomes.

My smirk widens.

Heavy with the same layers of grime and decay as the rest of the ship, I find the stairs leading down to the next level. My footfalls break the eerie silence, echoing across the empty deck. No one who wants to live hides this deep in the belly of the tanker. Those who have tried met the weapons of my guards. My people call this deck the buffer zone.

The five betas following us stay on my heels until we’re halfway down the hall. Then they branch out to ensure every room remains devoid of life.

Once certain we’re alone, I break the seal on the massive steel door and duck through. The pitch-black stairwell sends a fit of tremors through the tiny female draped over my shoulder, but I ignore her and descend with ease.

The beta sentry at the bottom of the stairs greets me with his normal warning, and when I give the expected answer, he relaxes, though he doesn’t move aside until he sees who I am. I send him a nod of approval and continue down the hall.

The hum of the electric lights and the rushing of water against the ship’s hull create a noisy background for the murmurs of my people as they glimpse the omega slung over my shoulder. No one approaches until I reach the front door of my chambers.

Janine—the beta woman who manages the harem used by the males I’ve deemed worthy—steps from the room next door and bows.

I stop and nod, giving her permission to speak.

“Two females are still preparing the bath suite for you.”

My omega stiffens, her muscles bunching before she buries her face into my back.

“Baal will make sure they return to you,” I reply.

Janine bows again, ignoring the sniffles from the female slung over my shoulder like a sack of supplies. Showing the wisdom of a woman who wishes to survive in my world, Janine backs through the doorway and sits in the chair most visible to me, keeping her eyes lowered. With my senses tuned to the hall behind me, I turn and open the door to my chambers.

A vicious tremor runs through my prize when I duck through the doorway and slam the hatch behind me. The din of vibrating metal does nothing to hide her attempts to stop her sobs, her swallow so labored I feel it as though I’m the one fighting back tears.

Furious over the sliver of weak emotion invading my defenses, I stomp to the bath chamber and dump my terrified female onto the bench lining the wall. She shrieks until her rump hits the hard surface, her eyes wide in pain and fear as the air rushes from her lungs.

“Do not move.”

All three females in the bath suite freeze. One beta remains leaned over the tub, her hand outstretched with a clean washcloth, my command stopping her in the middle of setting it on the ledge. Another stops mid-motion as well, holding a thermometer just above the water. Tear-filled green eyes stare up at me as my omega’s diaphragm finally drags fresh oxygen into her lungs.

I lean down and grab the hem of her shirt, peeling it over her head before she has time to react. Her gasp and slapping hands have no effect, other than to offer me a glorious view of her breasts, but before her body distracts me, I wrap a hand around her throat and lift her from the bench. Two seconds later, her shorts pool around her sorry excuse for slippers. She twists and sobs, scratching my forearms with her sharp nails.

Enjoying the pricks of pain, I pin her neck to the wall and stoop to remove her shoes. When her knee jerks up as though she means to hit my face, I swing her back onto the bench and align my forearm with her sternum, pressing my elbow against her larynx and pinning her arms across her stomach with my hand. Her breasts pillow my arm while my fingertips graze along the exposed apex of her thighs.

She clamps her legs together and tries to curl into a ball to protect herself. I use her reaction to my advantage, yanking her shoes and shorts off and dropping them onto her discarded shirt.

I look over my shoulder and nod for the others to finish their tasks before grabbing her slim ankles with my unoccupied hand. Holding her feet flat on the smooth bench, I allow myself a moment to enjoy her curves.

She may be tiny, but she no longer resembles a child. I ache to sink my teeth into the pink tips of her breasts, while the triangle of hair covering the juncture of her thighs fills my mouth with saliva, her heady aroma strongest there. Though still not ripe enough to sink my cock into, her cunt calls for attention.

As she flexes her fingers into her own waist, I notice the dirt trapped beneath her nails. Bruises on her arms and legs betray a history of abuse, which threatens to drag me into a rampage.

This fragile female is mine.Mymarks will be the only ones marring her flesh.

I can’t wait to tame her.

Chapter 3

Char

The cool air wafting over my naked body chills me despite the alpha’s scorching arm plastered to my torso. Without my consent, my flesh reacts, pebbling and tightening as the hairs on his forearm brush along my breasts. Too terrified to scream, I fight to get away, even though there’s no escape.

The door shuts with a soft click. I freeze as I realize I’m alone with the massive brute.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com