Ravaged Captive: A Reverse Harem Omegaverse Dark Romance (Wren's Song Book 4) Read online

  After an embarrassing length of time, her mind ceased reeling, and she was able to push back to her haunches. Twisting so her legs splayed before her, Wren leaned against the coolness of the wall, breathless and… smiling.

  This must be what it felt like to die.

  A lightness that fooled her body into believing it drifted, not slumped on dirty tiles. She couldn’t even smell the mud and shit that she’d crawled through.

  Not when out of nowhere Kieran leaned over her, so close that if she turned her head just a touch, she could lay her cheek to his.

  Before she might lean into his heat and draw in his scent, the male shoved to his feet. Bracing his legs on either side of her hips, he tore down his zipper, and shoved a fully hard cock past her teeth. Unprepared, Wren instinctively swallowed against the rising water that was moments from escaping her belly, and found his pelvis met her lips.

  In all the times this demon had worked his evil down her throat, he’d never shoved his meat so deep.

  Not that she particularly noticed.

  She couldn’t even comprehend the words he was shouting as he held himself there beyond her ability to hold her breath.

  Kieran keened, jaw clenched and teeth exposed in the following hiss.

  What shot into her belly warmed soul-deep, shooting zings of feeling from tummy to fingertips. Filled her.

  Becoming an active participant to the mauling, Wren swallowed again, and set her teeth to the root of his cock. Should he pull away what fed her, she’d bite down. Hold him until she’d had her fill.

  More and more flowed thick and creamy from him to her, bloated her belly, yet still she refused to let go.

  Rough fingers pinched her jaw, forcing it apart. “You have to breathe!”

  The entire length of him was drawn from her esophagus, slimed with her mucus, and pulsating as it continued to spurt on her parted lips and waiting tongue.

  But it wasn’t cum.

  Thick, viscus, and white as snow. Stringy like taffy.

  Addictive.

  A nutrient substance rutting Alphas fed their Omegas in estrous when females were unable to eat.

  When they could hardly drink.

  A substance that would tax the Alpha’s strength as he gave his vigor to his female.

  Something Kieran could have only been able to produce if he’d been with an estrous high Omega.

  He’d force-fed Wren another woman’s due. And she, the slut that she was, lapped it down like ambrosia.

  Immediately buoyed, feeling reason and strength return, the panting Omega met burning green eyes and knew.

  Kieran had lied.

  Chapter 5

  Lightly laughing at a mildly funny quip, Rosie kept her face bright, her smile winning, and let the Alpha who’d pulled her to his lap think he was the only man in the world. Twirling his hair around her finger, easing close enough the sweetness of Omega scent might charm him, she drew in a decent option for nightly protector.

  Someone who would keep her out of the orgy in his greed to have Omega cunt to himself.

  This game, she’d played it a million times. Same smile, same giggle, different cock.

  Play the part, and food and water were available in abundance—as was a sort of safety. The protection of strong males, the comradery of other females who lived and breathed the same sorry life. Everything in the pen was organized and in its box.

  But it was a job. Unpaid even.

  Generally, Caspian gave his whores everything they needed beyond the standard food, shelter, water. Spoiled them as far as pimps went with clothing, luxury items, even the occasional excursion into the city. He didn’t beat them, not unless they had it coming.

  But he sure as fuck didn’t care about them either.

  The male liked holes. Preferred those holes to be of the female variety and trained in how to make his dick cough up cum like a geyser.

  And that male was going to hand her off to whichever asshole brought his missing mouse in. Which, considering the Warrens, could be fucking anyone.

  And when she was handed off, the future she had tried so hard to build would crumble. Aside from the upscale bride markets, the pen was the nicest place an Omega might whore. Here there was an actual chance she could be sold to some powerful old fart who lived above the smog.

  Where she would get to have babies and be safe. Even if the Alpha was weak and wanted nothing more than a sexy nursemaid, he’d be able to afford guards. Life would be comfortable.

  But all these years she hadn’t been offered in trade. Not while she was one of Caspian’s top girls.

  She hadn’t been offered anything but more work on her back.

  And time was running out.

  The mouse was alive; Rosie's days were numbered.

  A sense of sadness she had refused to allow herself to feel in all the years she’d been in the pen was knocking on her heart for entry.

  So she smiled all the harder, moaned all the louder, and faked orgasms like a fucking pro.

  At this point, she could slick her thighs on demand—do the ol’ in-out-in-out, and feel nothing. Because she’d had a plan and a future.

  Now she had an ax over her head and a replacement who hadn’t even had to brave the pen, the males, or the females.

  No. Jax only had to contend with three.

  Well, Toby was a freak on a whole other level, but still. Three only. Rosie had fucked three guys before breakfast.

  After all, those who didn’t fuck didn’t thrive.

  Turn the men down, refuse to participate, and starve.

  And it was so much more than the lack of food. The girls would turn on those who took but didn’t give. Share the burden of pleasing the males, share the disappointment and the shame, or get your throat cut while you slept. Ladies didn’t get to languish in the pen. Period.

  Those who tried to hide away, the men forgot. Once the men forgot, no one would notice a corpse. In all this water they just… floated away.

  And new pussy came.

  A gruff, unpracticed purr seasoned the words, “What do you think about that, beautiful?”

  Rosie had no fucking clue what the man had said. Not that it mattered, she knew the perfect coy look, the tease of expectant smile he’d want to see at the corner of her lips. She didn’t need to speak at all.

  Even Caspian fell for that one time and again.

  But before she might make her play, might cuddle closer and put all she was on offer, high pitched, unintelligible shrieking cut through the room’s many conversations.

  A spitting, clawing, pale-haired mess of an Omega was dumped on the floor by Caspian’s personal guard.

  Rosie’s heart stopped. This was it; this was her end.

  The mouse had been found.

  And a tear fell, unbidden and strange over a painted cheek before someone as hard-hearted as her might will it away.

  What had been loud grew silent, couples in the midst of flirtation, conversation, fucking, stopped long enough to see the white-haired female gain her footing.

  Thrusting a tangle of hair away from her face, the girl wobbled forward as if she thought to pursue the very Alphas who’d caged her in. “She can’t have him! Kieran is MY MATE!”

  The lurch and first beat of a heart kicking back in jolted Rosie forward. Wiping the back of her hand over her cheek before that sorry droplet might betray her to anyone, she gawped—just like everyone else—at the wild thing daring to threaten Alphas.

  “My mate will have you killed! Do you hear me? Kieran will murder you for treating me this way!” As if to punctuate her threat, the doll, the very doll whom Rosie had taken such exception to last week, set her marked shoulder on display.

  This wasn’t a mouse.

  The not mouse turned to the room, to the spectators who’d broken character. “She harassed me! Told them I was ugly, that they didn’t want me. Claimed I copied her… as if she invented Omegas!”

  Oh, and now it was getting good. Rosie might be at her end—she was
n’t stupid, she knew exactly what this cunt was blathering about. After all, she’d been recently replaced herself. But there could be something here to work with.

  Slipping off the Alpha’s lap, Rosie approached, all class. “Who called you that, sugar?”

  A breakdown of epic proportions began before Rosie’s blue eyes.

  “I did everything he wanted.” The doll, the fresh meat, fell to her knees and sobbed. “Nothing she said was true. She slandered me, right in front of him. She told lies!”

  The show was glorious, so believable that only a few of the whores laughed under their breath.

  But a few was all it took to set the broken doll into another rage.

  Again, the new Omega pulled her hair aside to show the mark on her shoulder. And it was true, she stank of Kieran’s spend, her slick, and god only knows what else. “He’s my mate. MINE! She can’t have him.”

  “Honey.” And that endearment came like honey, thick and sweet. “No male here is faithful. It’s no fault of yours. I mean, look at you. Pretty as a sunset from the top tier.”

  “She harassed me! In front of my mate.” More tears, real ones which said so much more about this female than any of the crazy things she’d screamed.

  “Who? I’ll talk to her.”

  Wiping her runny nose, the Omega looked up. Those helpless wide eyes had probably got her far in life. “He called me his doll.”

  For fuck’s sake. Rosie swallowed, about ready to reach forward and shake the story from this woman. “Did she have white hair?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And she said things about you to your male?”

  Defensive, all claws, the doll hissed. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

  The laughter in the room grew.

  “Cupcake, I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”

  “Yeah?”

  “If you want to be angry, be angry with Kieran. Hell, we all have been one time or another. He promised me children and a way out of this hellhole.” Rosie pointed to an exotic Beta who’d been here even longer than she had. “He promised to clear Janice’s debts and a job up top somewhere respectful. All of us have been let down by Kieran. Life is disappointment, especially around here.” Not an appropriate thing to announce in front of the clients, but at this point, who cared? Rosie was toast, burnt toast covered in cum jelly with zero fucks left to give. “You’re in the pen now, just like the rest of us. Pick a John and get to work. Cock ain’t gonna suck itself.”

  The slight thing straightened her shoulders and squared off against the queen of the whores. “I’m mated. I don’t have to fuck anyone anymore.”

  Boy, was this new girl in for a rough go of it. “Suit yourself, doll. But just so you know? The Omega you saw, the one Caspian marked? She’s Toby’s mate. And, sugar... she can’t talk.”

  Tossing her bleached hair, the Omega turned to walk out, screeching again when the guard at the door shoved her right back in. Landing on her ass, humiliated when the Alpha guard barked, “Stay in the pen!” she went wild.

  Forearm clawed, a few beads of blood matting the dark hair, said Alpha gave her the only warning that might shut up the whimpers and whines. “And if I hear you sass Rosie again, I’ll throw you to the slaves for the night’s entertainment.”

  Chapter 6

  Under the warm cascade of clean water, Kieran scrubbed her skin as if he were on a mission to scour off any trace of what had happened in the big room. Every inch of her was washed, rinsed, washed again, until Wren’s flesh was pink from too much friction.

  He cleaned her ears as if she were a child, wiped her nostrils free of mud despite her attempts to bat his hand away.

  Perfectly capable of cleaning her own body, she tolerated only so much.

  But her complaints were weak, unspoken, and considering she could hardly stay standing without his support, pointless.

  Soap, shampoo, special cleansers designed specifically for an Omega—every bit of foamy lathering chemicals was used up, even after the water no longer ran brown with dirt.

  Yet it would seem that whatever he was determined to get off of her, was more than skin deep.

  And Wren, she couldn’t meet the male’s eyes after what he’d done, how she’d swallowed, and still craved more. Had even dared to fight him under that spray when the urge took him again—when he’d pushed her to her knees and thrust his cock between her lips until she swallowed his full length. Then he filled her belly with sustenance.

  Three times so far, he’d invaded her throat.

  Three times he’d given her his Alpha nutrient substance.

  At each of the interludes, it seemed something had completely come over the male. He practically shook with the need to force his ejaculate down her gullet.

  And she was no better, once fed something akin to a drug. A single taste, and Wren went from fighting the Alpha to keep his erection from her lips, to fighting him to keep his cock buried so far down her throat she couldn’t breathe.

  When he’d filled her, when her face was turning purple, he’d pinch her jaw and pull out, leaving her bent and sputtering, and too weak to drag him back for more.

  And then the manic scrubbing began all over again.

  Between her toes. Behind her ears. Eyelids. Navel. Labia.

  Every trace of Caspian’s scent was rinsed from inside her.

  Wren had never seen Kieran in such a manic state—utterly focused, grim, determined. Where was the flippant snark, the disapproving looks, the teasing?

  This male was someone utterly different.

  And to be perfectly honest, he frightened her.

  The silence, the roughness of his handling when she failed to turn just so. He moved her as if she were a thing, an item. He ignored how her knees knocked and made her lean into him each time she slipped.

  It wasn’t until exhaustion won out and she slumped to the floor, refusing to stand no matter how he snarled at her and tried to drag her upward, that he finally stopped.

  Whatever he was planning to do, whatever the purpose for the insane washing, she just wanted him to do it and have it over.

  The water cut off.

  Arms scooped her off the slippery tile, and while she hung like a limp noodle, Kieran took her from the bathroom.

  Leaving a trail of water droplets where they passed, the male surveyed the room, and let out a lengthy, irritated snarl. He kicked a nearby pile of old dishes, sending ceramic to smash into the wall, rotting food scattering for the rats no doubt hidden in the piles of garbage scattered/ heaped in the room.

  Skin tight from too much scrubbing, Wren ignored most of his grumbled complaints, her attention instead on the soiled nest waiting on the bed. One brush of that soggy fabric would make her feel far filthier than the mud she’d sported over every inch upon her arrival.

  Cringing, knowing it was inevitable, she let out a loud breath.

  Kieran hiked her up higher in his arms, the swing of his head when he stopped surveying his disaster so abrupt her eyes went wide when they met his.

  How he glared.

  The man was fucking pissed. Snorting bull, steam rising from his ears, incensed.

  Again, this was not Kieran. Not the man who secretly desired to be purred to and have his hair stroked. Not the walking open wound his mother left on his soul. This glaring male was Alpha only.

  Lacked personality.

  It had to be the aftereffects of whatever drugs he’d inundated himself with over the last few days.

  Even with the shower, he looked more animal than man.

  Wren signed best as she could one handed. “You need to sleep it off.”

  “That first day, you made your nest on the floor. Over there.” Not breaking eye contact, he jerked his chin toward the window. “You’ll make one there now.”

  With what? Every item in this room was disgusting.

  Stomping over the refuse, he carried her to the least cluttered corner of the room. Before he set her bare feet to the floor, he kicked aside odds
and ends, clearing a circle.

  Still sopping wet, hair tangled and in need of a comb, Wren shivered once the male stepped back.

  “If you move from that spot before I return, I will punish you.”

  Nodding, wary, arms around her middle, Wren complied.

  And just like that, a fully naked and very wet Kieran charged from the room.

  The door slammed, perhaps even more forcefully than upon their arrival, and Wren let out the breath she’d been holding.

  Three beats of her heart passed before she disobeyed his order. Rushing from the cleared circle, Wren dashed toward the food trays that seemed the most fresh, grabbing up random bits of abandoned food and shoving them into her mouth.

  Taste didn’t matter, texture, or smell. All that mattered was getting something into a body that was running on nothing.

  Nothing but Kieran’s nutrient ejaculate.

  God help her, she didn’t want to ever be sucked into the enrapturing high that thick fluid inspired again. It was wrong, so wrong, and if she could get her stomach to stop rumbling, perhaps the male would cease this craziness.

  And that’s how he found her upon his speedy return, picking through scraps like the Warrens rat she was.

  She thought he’d been angry before…

  That was nothing to the roaring male running full steam across the room.

  ***

  Fist in her hair, long fingers down her throat, Kieran forced every bit of food she’d swallowed to come back up. Roughly gagging her despite tears and pleading moans to vomit up every bite.

  The already dirty rug was ruined.

  Putrid.

  A string of mucus tying her fingers-stuffed-mouth to the mess, Wren heaved again. Over and over until there was nothing left to lose.

  Slimy digits left her aching throat one second, and a resounding slap hit her rump the next. It was more startling than painful, at least at first. As the male continued to rail open-palmed punishment on her ass, discomfort burned into outright throbbing.

  “What the hell is going on in here?”

  She hadn’t even registered the sound of the door being thrown open, not between her own noisy struggles to escape the fire Kieran affected upon her skin.