HIS hot breath caressed the crook of my neck and tickled my sensitive skin. His warm hand rubbed my side, igniting the fire within me.
"Spread your legs, Christine," he said, and his deep, almost guttural voice made my aching and yearning body shiver. His calloused hand purposefully separated my thighs before he inserted himself between them, while I inhaled his mint and musky scent.
As I felt him hard and ready, I swallowed hard.
"Moan for me; I want to hear you calling out my name while I'm doing this, Christine." He pinned my hands over my head and pushed in.
I wheezed and mumbled, "Tyron," arching half of my body.
"Louder!" he commanded, his greyish orbs piercing mine. He slid off and then thrust fervently, indicating his desire to possess all of me.
As I convulsed in mind-numbing delirium, my head threw back and my eyes rolled back. "Tyron!" I yelled, completely surrendering to him.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Fat-ass, open this goddamn door!"
A loud banging on the door and Jillian's; the son of GrimStone Pack Alpha's enraged voice jolted me awake from my slumber.
Still disoriented, I creased my brow as I looked out the window, only to curse inside my head when I noticed the bright streak of light passing through the aperture's thin lids.
"Oh, no!" I sat up and jumped out of bed, whimpering. With no time to put on my slippers, I dashed to the door and opened the leaf, only to be met by Jillian's fist.
He hit my left eye, and I yelped out loud in shock before collapsing to the floor. My vision was filled with stars, and I squirmed in agony.
Goddess! It was excruciating!
It took a few seconds for my vision to clear and I was able to pull my body away from my attacker, but Jillian quickly grabbed a fistful of my hair and dug his nails deep into my scalp. "You worthless b***h!" he screamed, his jaw clenched. "We've been waiting for you to make our breakfast, but it's been ages and here you are, still lazy in bed!" His nose flared as he yelled and whacked me in the face again.
As I was knocked over to the floor, I let out a squeal, extreme fear filling my entire being. "Stop, please," I begged, shifting away, but Jillian was faster. He kicked me in the gut so hard that it was excruciatingly painful that I almost forgot how to breathe.
My form trembled violently, almost passing out, as my strength gradually deteriorated. Jillian kept hitting me, and I forced my arms to cover my face as I lay on the ground, receiving his cruel attacks on my battered body, because he would not stop until he was satisfied with tormenting me.
"I expect you to make our breakfast in fifteen minutes or your fatty-ugly self will be sorry!" he growled after a few seconds of ragged breathing. He gave me one last kick in the side, and I swear I heard something snap inside my mistreated trunk before turning around and exiting the room.
My entire being was engulfed in agony. I clenched my teeth and curled into a ball, tears welling up in my eyes. As hatred surged into my veins, my chest heaved up and down.
Jillian! That jerk. His day isn't complete unless he gets his evil paws on me.
I pushed myself up, wobbling and wincing, and rose to my feet. I limped out of my room, groping my throbbing side.
It was not Jillian's fault that I was having difficulty walking at the time. Alpha Sigma was the one who severed my leg the other night. His women irritated him, and unfortunately, it was me on whom he vented his rage.
To be honest, I had no idea why I was their go-to punching bag. There are many Omegas in GrimStone, so why do they choose to victimize me?
I sighed deeply and wiped the blood from the side of my busted mouth, thinking that I was still blessed. Being a recuperating wolf favored someone like me. Nonetheless, as the abuse continued and worsened, I concluded that my body would not be able to withstand much longer.
I was almost at my limit, and I could feel my body giving in as the Alpha and his son continued to torment me. I'd been in that position for four years, ever since my parents were killed in an ambush. It's been four years since I was sent to hell.
I passed out several times when Jillian and his father mistreated me, and I was aware that I was becoming weaker by the day.
Bullying and abuse gradually shattered me and my immortality.
Who cares about my helplessness?
Nobody. Because I had no worth in the GrimStone pack.
I'm just garbage.
A pointless Omega.
TYRON buried his fingers in the hair of the blond she-wolf on her knees in front of him.
As her hot and sinful lips bobbed up and down on his thick and throbbing length, his teeth gritted. Before sliding him in, she teased the tip with her playful tongue.
Tyron rasped, "Hell, yeah!" as she deep-throated him. "Faster, b***h!" he yelled as he felt his release approaching.
The she-wolf heeded, and his jaw tightened in one final deep and long blow as he finally reached the pinnacle. Tyron cursed and fired all of his rounds directly into the she-throat, wolf's and she swallowed his slimy fluid without hesitation.
Tyron panted and backed away, taking his still stiffened girth out of her mouth. "Out. Now."
There was no need for a second order because the woman quickly gathered her belongings and dashed out the door.
Tyron marched towards the restroom, shaking his head. He entered the shower and turned it on. He closed his eyes and tossed his head back, allowing the warm water to soothe his aching muscles.
The Alpha had a long and exhausting day. He and Kisses had only been in DarkStone City for thirty minutes. It was a must-to-attend meeting with the Alpha Alliance, and as he predicted, everything went wrong because the subject was Alpha Sigma of GrimStone.
According to the extensive investigation, the ruler of the aforementioned territory became involved in a werewolf mafia.
DarkStone City's Alpha Zacria preferred Alpha Sigma's head, but the other Alpha fools were opposed. Tyron would be delighted to tear the bastard to shreds if they asked him for his thoughts. He's fully aware of all of his transgressions, and he can't wait to make the old geezer pay for them all.
TYRON walked out of the shower room, stopping by the open window with the only towel covering his lower half. From the top of the nearby cabinet, he reached for the cigarette and lit it.
It was nearly midnight, and the air was slightly chilly, but he felt quite the opposite. Something unexplainable was writhing in every fiber of his veins, and he realized it had something to do with his dreams the previous nights.
In his dreams, he fantasized about a she-wolf. A chubby woman, to be precise, and the strange thing was, he was constantly f*****g her on his bed.
He could still hear her muffled moans up until that point. Her warm hands were on his body, and he could feel them. He could see her shuddering beneath him, her nails digging into his back. He liked how she threw her head back while he was slamming inside her.
For the third time that day, he cursed mentally as those enticing scenes from his dreams gave him a major hard-on. Tyron tossed the towel around his waist, grabbed his manhood, and jerked his hips up.
"f**k! Kisses, send that w***e back into my room right now!" he commanded his Beta through mindlink because f*****g his hand isn't enough for him.
"The hell, Alpha, I'm doing her right now."
He groaned in frustration, and after a brief moment of thought, an idea occurred to him.
"It's time to look for that chubby she-wolf."