The Omega Within (Alpha's Woman Book 5) Page 6

  His fingers began to massage her as he learned more about her in the next half an hour than he had in the past three days, despite how many times he'd had her. He found a jagged scar on her left calf, and—on impulse—bent down to kiss it. There was what looked like an old bruise that had never faded that began on her ribcage in the front and wrapped around to her back. He sat back and drew a finger over it.

  "What's this from?"

  "Fight," was all she said, although he took perverse satisfaction from the fact that her breathing was ragged.

  "Someone hurt you?" he asked, pausing to listen to her answer.

  She shrugged, as if she couldn't understand why he'd ask that. "Lots of people have hurt me."

  Garron felt his entire massive body stiffen at that, but he knew it was an irrational reaction. Still, he couldn't stop himself from saying, "If you should ever encounter one of them again, you let me know."

  That drew a soft chuckle from her that made him frown. "Why does that make you laugh?"

  "Are you going to beat on whoever has hurt me?"

  "Yes," he answered in a vehement, animalistic growl.

  "And I laughed because you are, by far, the person who has hurt me the most in my life."

  That statement—and the fact that he realized it could very well be true—set him back on his haunches, literally, making him grind his teeth together painfully, but he made no further sound, gave no indication as to how much of a wound that was to his already battered pride.

  Still, he was trying to rectify that situation, and he did love touching her in any way, even this tame one. What's more, he could feel her relaxing as he ran his big hands over her, turning her from her front onto her back and spreading her legs around him.

  For a split second, he thought she was going to fight him, but then the leg he was holding relaxed, and he went to work on her thighs, slowly moving his way down to her feet, taking each one onto his lap, placing her heel right on top of his enormous erection and rubbing.

  A long, low moan escaped her, the first he could recall ever hearing from her lips, and he was about as far away from mounting her as he could get. Still, he'd take what positive reactions he could get at the moment.

  That encouraged him to stay there, noting that her feet were in horrible shape—callused and rough and dry and cracked. He reached into his trunk and brought out a small jar of something that he rubbed into her sole that would help them heal. And he got another long sigh from her when he treated her other foot to the same care.

  Unable to continue to be so chaste around her, he knelt between her legs then leaned down to scoop her butt cheeks into his hands, serving up her feminine delicacies—the font of her scent—to himself and his eager mouth, then transferring her slight weight to the palm of one splayed hand, so that his fingers could part those tiny lips of hers. The stark sight of just how small she was made him wonder how she could possibly take him, but she did. He knew it wasn't an easy thing for her to do, but she was made to receive him. And he'd never allow her to deny him.

  Garron was literally dizzy with her heady musk, but he kept his goal in mind as best he could, the corners of his lips moving up when his fingers parted those swollen lips, only to have a veritable river of her slickness flow down his palm and over his big wrist.

  Some of her body was already on his side and had been from the start.

  As soon as he moved his hand upward a bit, exposing that little gem of hers, his mouth watered, and he latched onto it like a baby onto a nipple, tongue swirling and flicking, licking and sucking gently.

  Her reaction was unmistakable. "No!"

  That brought him one of the few full on smiles he'd ever produced—and he would never have guessed that it would be because his omega was trying to resist him.

  Olly tried to buck and writhe away from those warm, wet lips, but he subdued her with annoying ease, never allowing her to dislodge him from his chosen spot. Her legs were easily maneuvered onto his broad shoulders, which held them just that much further apart, making it even easier for him to devour her, which is what it felt to her as if he was doing.

  And he was making her only too happy to let him do exactly that, although she'd been here before, only to have that relentless ache replaced by the sheer discomfort of the act of being bred, which set her arousal back to zero—and beyond.

  But there was no denying his skill, and she had no choice but to be swept away by it; she had no defense against it, and was almost wishing for the distraction of the pain. She was already forced to submit to him, she didn't want to lose herself fully into a heat that she knew would rob her of herself.

  As he brought her closer and closer to something she didn't even know the name for, though, she knew she should simply acknowledge and do her best to accept that what was going to happen to her was utterly out of her control. She was bound with her hands above her head and blindfolded, to boot. He was ridiculously larger than she was and could lift her without any signs of strain, with just one hand.

  As much as she didn't want to descend into it, he was determined to bring her into heat.

  He moved away—just short of bringing her off—to arrange her as he usually did, in front of him, on her hands and knees, knees and elbows this time, bottom up in the air, head down. She wondered if he was going to leave her aching unfulfilled, as he always had in the past. But with both the bonds and the blindfold still in place, and although her body had stiffened in anticipation of an act that she hated, she was alarmed to realize that she hadn't lost one iota of her arousal.

  Usually by now, she'd been already sniffling.

  His hand came down between her legs to rub his fingers slowly over that entire area as he spoke directly into her ear—directly into her brain, it seemed—in a low, hypnotic rumble. "This is mine; all of you is, but this most importantly." His hand captured every bit of her most feminine place, firmly but gently. "This is where I'm going to breed you. This is from where my children will begin and then be born. They'll suckle at your breasts and play at your feet, and I will fill you with another even as they do. And eventually, sooner than you think, you'll want exactly that, too."

  Olly could feel that awful piece of him nudging insistently up against her. She'd stopped trying to fight him, but for some reason, she couldn't help but try now, even though she knew it was futile. And it was. One hard arm around her waist stilled her immediately.

  But he didn't just cram himself painfully inside her as he had before.

  Instead, he began to spank her with his free hand, and she opened her mouth and let out a wail that didn't end until after he stopped spanking her—about twenty horrible smacks later—and he immediately began to make good on his cock's implicit threat.

  Again, though, he didn't do to her what he had before. Instead, he entered her slowly and carefully, as if he was luxuriating in it, and from the sounds he was making from behind her, he was doing just that. She could hear his breath sizzle in between his teeth as he held her captive—in so many ways—while he advanced into her, forcing her to accommodate him, to stretch around him to the point of discomfort.

  But this time, even that felt strangely good, rawly arousing and soothing at the same time, as if he was scratching an itch she could never quite reach.

  All of it—everything he was doing to her—felt much too good, even the spanking, although she'd never admit that to him. It was beginning to feel too good. It was beginning to feel right to have him do these things to her.

  "That's it. This is what you were born to do—take your Alpha's cock. And your body was born to enjoy it, too, Ollyah, as you're about to find out."

  He sounded very sure of himself, which alarmed her to no end, especially when she realized that her now traitorous mind was agreeing with him.

  His unyielding solidness and thickness, how every inch of him scraped—in a delightfully pleasant way—over every nerve ending inside her felt amazing, and she heard herself whimpering, as if in the distance. Blood was rushing
around her body, to every pore, every cell; she would swear she could hear it. It roared in her ears, leaving her deaf as well as blind, unable to think or feel anything but that which he allowed her.

  And it was a bliss she found she could no longer fight. She didn't want to fight it.

  All this while, she'd thought she was already caught—bonded to him. But these long moments, this entire encounter, was proving her dead wrong.

  What he'd done to her before was nothing compared to this.

  Olly felt utterly consumed by a need from within that was absolutely undeniable. It overtook every part of her. Contrarily, she tried to buck away from him, denying herself that which she craved, but unable to stop herself from doing so until he clamped down on her further, smacking her bottom again and saying but one firm word.

  "Settle."

  Then, as his enormous hands planted on the mattress on either side of her head, and he physically covered her with himself like a stallion did a mare, surrounding her with his presence and his own potent scent, he began to do some kind of purring thing in his chest.

  Garron had never made that sound before in his life, but now it came naturally to him, and it, along with the judiciously delivered smacks, seemed to calm her a bit, and she left off trying to dislodge him.

  "Good girl," he murmured, while still rumbling deeply.

  Praise of any kind had been completely absent from her life, and when it came from him, she found herself suffused with an altogether different kind of pleasure, but one that was no less powerful than the kind that now had her backing herself up and further onto him, opening herself to him. Inviting him to take her.

  The big man gasped at that movement, not having expected it, but corrected her still, even though it resulted in his own enjoyment. He didn't want her moving on her own, at least not at this delicate point. So, he spanked her.

  "Stay still, little one," he ordered, voice half growl, half purr. "You follow my lead, not the other way around." Five more hard swats. "Understand?"

  Her "yes, Sir," was almost unrecognizable as her own. She rarely whimpered, but his spankings hurt like the devil!

  When he stopped, he reached his hand—warm from disciplining her—around to the front of her, splaying her legs just that much more in order to accommodate it, and unerringly finding the cream soaked scrap of flesh that he sought. Using his index and ring fingers to uncover her secret, he rested the pad of his middle finger over her enormously swollen clit and began to rub.

  She could barely move with the wall of flesh that was him all around her, but she desperately wanted to, and in an instant, she was right there again, right at the edge of something she instinctively knew was going to be big. But she'd been left at the gate so many times that she was wary.

  Garron knew she was close—probably closer than he wanted her to be—so he slowed the movements of that finger down considerably as he used his other hand to grasp her hip and steady her in anticipation of her reaction to what he was going to do next.

  Deciding to do it quickly, he jerked himself forward—getting himself as far into her as he could—before pulling back slightly, sinking the barb at the tip of his penis into the area on her body that was at least as sensitive as her clit, if not more so.

  He felt her stiffen and cry out—and not in pleasure—holding her still and purring loudly, which seemed to help her cope, even as she chanted "nonononono" softly under her breath until he had set himself into her completely, beginning to move his finger again, but not expecting much.

  Almost immediately, though, to his great surprise, she began to writhe and moan beneath him and, this time, not in pain.

  His knot was already forming, swelling quickly at the sounds she was making and adding what he knew was another level of pain to her experience, but he refused to feel sorry for her. Instead, he held her tightly, whispering through the rhythmic hum in his chest, "That's a good girl. I know it hurts, but that's what you're supposed to feel. I'm going to make you come through it, though, and by the time my balls have emptied into you, you'll be fully in heat, and you'll crave to do it again as much as I do."

  He heard her defiant yet hardly full volume, "no!" and chuckled as he began to rock himself inside her as much as her tightness, the hook buried deeply within in her, and his knot would allow, knowing every movement was a sharply unbearable contrast of pleasure and pain for her as his finger teased and tortured her ceaselessly.

  When her body began to coil in on itself with the bliss he was bringing her, he could feel Ollyah clenching at him, making it even harder—but that much better—for him to move, but he had to. Garron reached down with his free hand and grabbed the back of her neck firmly, pressing her face further into the mattress, controlling her even more completely.

  It was that act that sent her over the edge as he fucked her mercilessly and continued to do so while she orgasmed around him, milking him almost forcibly, never moving his finger and throwing her into a whirlwind of ecstasy that had her screaming and crying and peaking uncontrollably until he could feel himself squirting the last of his seed deep into her, the tip of his cock lodged directly up against her waiting cervix.

  Garron kept her in that position, even when he was technically done with her, unhooking her quickly as she gasped at the pain, then withdrawing to press himself against her as a combination of the two of them spilled down the insides of her legs.

  To Olly's surprise, he then flipped her over, onto her back, pressing her legs back so that her knees were near her ears, and encasing her very sensitive bits in his mouth, holding her legs so far back that her bottom was lifted well off the bed. Garron used his mouth and tongue to scoop up as much of their spunk as he could and deposit it inside her again before his demanding mouth again settled on her clit and he gave her no choice but to climax five or six more times—she lost count as to how many.

  "Please, no more!" she whispered, utterly exhausted.

  And he forced her to several more. When he stopped after that, she kept her mouth shut.

  Garron, who wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, knew that he couldn't do that until he'd seen to her—just as he would never put his horse away wet.

  She could be put away wet, but there were still things he felt he needed to do to make her comfortable.

  He released her arms, drawing them down slowly and massaging her shoulders as he did so, then removing her blindfold. She looked tired but thoroughly fucked, and her eyes had a dreamy, faraway quality to them that he'd never seen in them before.

  Olly surprised both of them by reaching for him and kissing him while trying to rub up against him.

  Barely able to believe the change in her, he still knew he had to put his foot down, moving her a bit away from him and holding up his hand. "Stay where I put you, Olly, or I will make you fetch the paddle."

  She gave him a wary look, but she did as she was told, although her hands immediately began to wander down to her crotch. He caught them there and slapped them lightly. "Now that will earn you my belt in the future, little girl. I am the only person who is allowed to touch you there, including you."

  Olly actually frowned at that, reluctantly moving her hands to a more neutral spot on her thighs.

  Garron gave her a warning look, then he got up and went to the front flap of his tent.

  "Sergeant."

  The younger man entered. "Yes, Sir."

  "I am in need of bath water and food, both double time."

  "Yes, Sir."

  The man paused just slightly at the tent flap, lifting his head as if scenting the air, but then he shook his head and carried on.

  Garron, who was cursing the fact that he was naked and had no weapon if things had gone awry with the man, threw more of whatever that herb was onto the fires around them, turning around after the last one to find her practically trying to climb up him.

  He was flattered, of course, and he wanted exactly the same thing she did. But before they descended into madness, he had a few things
he needed to take care of. He'd been at her so frequently already that she hadn't had a proper bath—although losing her clothes had helped a lot in the area of helping her smell less offensive. He was hungry, too, and he figured that the two of them could use some food before they began to go at it the way they really wanted to, and he needed to issue orders that they were staying in camp until further notice.

  But before he did any of those things, he crossed to the trunk, with her following close as a shadow.

  When he pointed to the paddle, for her to pick it out of the trunk, she blanched and tried to run, but he caught her arm before she got more than a step away, saying but one word, "Stop."

  Olly looked at the floor, in a state of total unhappiness, mixed with incorrigible horniness as he brought her back to the trunk.

  Olly sighed, reaching into it and handing him the paddle, which he accepted then put back into the trunk, turning to her instead and issuing an order that made her really wish she'd obeyed him in the first place. Although not as much as she was going to in a few minutes.

  "Go to the armor rack and get my belt."

  Her big eyes shot to his, as if to beg him no, but he merely gestured to where it was hanging off the rack.

  She trudged over there—severe reluctance in every step—then trudged back.

  Her Alpha arranged her over the side of the bed, instructing her to, "Keep your palms on the bed at all times. Do not reach back. You won't like what's going to happen, but you'll like it even less if you try to cover your naughty behind."

  Olly hated it when he used words like that with her—even his endearments made her feel even smaller than she was.

  She couldn't see it, but he then folded the thick belt over to hold both ends in his hand before taking that stance next to her that she was beginning to hate.

  "Did I tell you to stay put, Ollyah?" he asked, not sounding angry in the least, and she wasn't sure whether that was better or worse for her.

  "Yes, Sir," she replied softly.

  "And did you hear me give you permission to get up?"