TEN WAYS TO KILL ALPHA PENKING
Chapter 3
"Someone is scared," he said, rising and coming toward her.
She didn't talk.
Her mind ran faster than a car on asphalt. Her hands were trembling. There's no way he found out who she was. There's no way he knows. There's no way he knows her brother-Dan. She sucked in a breath as she felt his presence behind her. He stood almost too close.
He reached his hand into her skirt, into her pants, and squeezed the skin of her pussy. She swallowed-pain, pleasure, confusion-overridden quickly by the burn of her pussy in his hand.
"It's already okay that you're broken, but you seem to have forgotten that your father sold you to me before he died." He kissed her neck. "Amelia."
Her legs wobbled.
Oh no.
He knew her.
Her eyes rolled in their sockets, the touch on her flesh getting fiercer after every second.
"It will take me a whole lot to flush out every other guy from your system. It will take me a whole lot not to have any other name slipping off your tongue while I fucked you."
She quivered, her eyes closing, senses blurring.
Meeting him here at the club wasn't a coincidence.
It wasn't deliberate. He may have lied about being in rut too. It was clear he planned it-and she fell for it without knowing, without remembering the face, without etching the face of the man who brought ruin to her family into her skull.
And now she not only bedded him, she had-
"Ugh!!!" She moaned as he stuck his finger into her, thrusting.
"See?" He whispered into her ear, licking all over again, kissing her neck, grabbing her, his hands all over her body, still fucking her with his finger. "You love it when I drive you insane like this."
She shook.
"And now you're making me hard all over again," he whispered as he pulled his ember from his underpants, poking her wet pussy before sliding in.
She fought for balance immediately, collapsing her hands over the door for support, bending, throwing all thoughts to the wind as he rammed into her center-hitting the spot quicker than before.
"Ahh-"
"Ahhhhh-"
"Augh!!"
Her moans came louder each minute he thrust. He raised one of her legs into the air, holding it, shaking her entire core with each movement, their rhythm dangerously overlapping.
Her hair flayed over her shoulders, her breasts bobbing and bouncing until he dropped her leg and gulped them into his large palms. The heat that visited her nipples caused her to still in pleasure, a guttural sound tearing from her throat.
He pressed, teased, tickled her nipples. She collapsed onto his body, and he wrapped his large arms around her frail self, going deeper, breathing over her, his legs holding sturdier to support her weak ones.
She could taste him on her breath.
She could taste him in her mind.
Then-like a shooting star-she screamed from her lungs as she felt herself coming. He lifted her into his arms. She hugged him, her legs around his waist, his hands under her butt cheeks, grabbing, squeezing.
"Let's... stop..." she whispered.
"Stop?" he said, already into her again, hitting her harder than before.
She bounced on top of him, meeting his hard ember with more ferocity than the first. She gripped tighter.
She was tired of pleasure. She was tired of how it made her feel. But it didn't stop her from reaching heaven again, senses gone, until-
"Ughhhh!!" tore from his throat.
He finished and held onto her for more than a few seconds.
"Omegas are bitches, but you..." he whispered. "You disgust me more."
He dropped her, and she fell to the floor, legs still quaking, her heart beating fast, tears burning at the corners of her eyes.
"All of you-always slaves to pleasure." He clicked his tongue. "I thought I heard wrong when they told me you fucked men at clubs, but now it's true. That little bitch I waited ten years to grow is a prostitute."
She clenched on the floor.
"You could imagine my anger, Amelia. Your body-we need to do something about it."
A knock came on the door.
"Your driver," he said. "Here to take you home."
She shouldn't cry. She began to wear her dress, her whole self deflating more than she thought possible.
"Remember to crawl on the floor and get those notes. Now."
"I-"
"That's if you want to get home and meet your brother."
She restrained whatever she wanted to say. She went down on her knees, crawling between his legs, picking up the notes one after another, her hands trembling with anger while he watched.
"Now you look like the bitch you are," he said with a smirk, lighting another smoke. "You turn me on again when you crawl like that."
She gritted her teeth, picking up the last note.
"Stay like that," his voice came again. "Don't move. I want to watch you on all fours for another second-memorize every bit of you before you stand."
She stilled.
Biting down the words that crawled to her throat.
She would kill him. She prayed it inside her bones. She would be the one to take his life. She had been planning it day and night for ten years.
He was behind her, squatting down.
"The back of your skirt is soaked from all those cums. It's begging me for more again," he said, kissing her butt fondly before placing both palms on the skirt and shredding it from her waist to her thighs.
Her butt was bare again, shining under the light.
He kissed her butthole, sniffing.
"Smells good. At least you smell good."
His eyes caught the waist beads around her waist.
"Who put these on you?"
"Why do you ask?" she managed, feeling the blow of air into her anus driving her mad again.
He hooked his fingers into the beads, rolling them over his fingertips before tearing them off. The beads scattered across the floor.
She froze.
"No!!" she screamed, turning over, her eyes following each bead as it rolled away.
"How dare you-"
He hushed her with a kiss.
"I own you. I'm allowed to do anything I want with you."
"I own every bit of you."
She knocked him over to the floor and dug her hands into his neck, squeezing.
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