Marked as His Slave, Born as His Mate.

I shouldn’t be doing this. But I can’t stop. The room is still, silent except for the shallow gasps falling from my lips. Moonlight glows across the stone floor, soft and cold against my bare knees. My thighs are trembling, spread wide as I kneel on the thin blanket I dragged to the floor. Two fingers are buried deep in my p***y, soaked and curling just right, thrusting harder each time I imagine him. Alpha Raze. Dark. Dangerous. Pure, raw power wrapped in a hard, unforgiving body. I hate him. I fear him. And yet, I crave him more than I crave air. I pump my fingers faster, harder, soaking my hand with slick heat. My cl*t throbs with every pulse of blood rushing to it. I can feel how wet I am, dripping down my thighs, slicking my skin as I rock against my hand like a girl gone mad. I think of his mouth. His hands. His c**k—thick, veined, perfect for breaking me apart. I imagine him grabbing me by the throat, lifting me onto his desk, slamming into me until I’m a sobbing, soaking mess. I want to be pinned down in his shower, water pouring over our bodies while he f*cks me against the wall. I want to be bent over in front of his guards, legs wide, showing them how he owns me. “F**k,” I whisper, voice raw and shaking. I add a third finger, stretching myself open as I picture his golden-blue eyes staring down at me with dark hunger. My p***y clenches, desperate for something bigger, thicker—him. I rub my cl*t in fast, wet circles with my free hand, slick juices smearing across my palm. I’m moaning now, helpless, hips rolling wildly. My body is on fire. “Raze,” I gasp. “Please… please just f**k me.” My orgasm hits like a slap. My thighs spasm. My fingers stay buried deep as I c*m all over them, my p***y clenching hard, sucking me in. I cry out softly, body shivering, slick pouring out of me in waves. But I’m not done. I pull my fingers out, coated in wetness, and shove them back in harder. I grind down, desperate for more. I want to be used. F***ed until I forget my name. Owned like a good little omega slave. My second orgasm comes faster, crashing through me like a storm. I collapse to the floor, panting, legs twitching, soaked and ruined. That’s when the knock comes. I freeze. Shit. “Ava?” Mila’s voice filters through the door, soft but firm. “You decent?” No. Not even close. I scramble to my feet, tugging my dress down over my dripping p***y, wiping my slick fingers on the edge of the blanket like a guilty child. My heart’s pounding. My thighs are still sticky. I probably smell like s*x and heat. “One second!” I call, breathless. The door creaks open before I can fully recover. Mila steps inside, her nose twitching. She sniffs the air—subtle, but enough. She smirks. “Rough nap?” I flush from head to toe. “I… yeah,” I mumble. “Wasn’t expecting company.” “Well, you’ve got it,” she says. “The Alpha summoned you.” My heart drops. “What? Now?” Mila nods. “His guard came straight to the lower wing. Told me to fetch you myself.” I glance at the puddle soaking through my blanket, the sheen of sweat on my chest, the dampness between my legs. Of all the gods-damned times… Mila steps closer, her voice quiet. “Be careful, Ava. Omegas don’t get summoned to his side of the house unless he wants something.” I nod slowly, still trembling. She leaves. And I go. The hallway to Raze’s wing is darker. Colder. It feels like walking into another world, one where he controls everything. My breath quickens. My p***y is still wet. I didn’t even have time to clean myself, and now I’m heading toward the one man who could smell everything I just did. And then… I smell him. Oh goddess. His scent is thick in the air. Woodsmoke. Power. Alpha musk so strong it makes my n*pples harden instantly. My thighs clench, trapping the mess still leaking from me. I’m dripping, soaking my panties again, just from his scent. By the time I reach the stone corridor where he’s waiting, I’m flushed and slick and aching all over again. And then I see him. Alpha Raze. Standing like a storm held still. Arms crossed. Golden-blue eyes glowing in the dark. The scent of him crashes into me again and I nearly stumble. “You’re late,” he growls. “I—I came as fast as I could, Alpha,” I stammer. He steps closer. I step back. “Don’t lie,” he says softly, eyes dropping to my thighs. I swear he sees the way they tremble. “You were doing something else.” My breath catches. Can he smell me? Can he feel it? His eyes are burning now, jaw clenched like he’s barely holding back something primal. “You’re not going back to the kitchens.” My head snaps up. “What?” “You’re being moved. Into my wing. You’ll serve me now—personally.” I swallow hard. My p***y throbs. “As your—?” “My omega slave,” he says, voice low and final. “You’ll sleep two doors down. Close enough for me to hear if you make those little sounds again.” I freeze. He knows. He knows. I want to die. I want to vanish. But most of all, I want to drop to my knees and beg him to use me like the filthy thing I’ve become. “Yes, Alpha,” I whisper. He turns without another word and walks down the hall. I stand there, heart pounding, thighs soaked, p***y still clenching around nothing. I don’t know what’s waiting behind that new door. I just know this: I’ll never be the same again.