Page 18 of Her Broken Alpha
She gave in, clamping down until blood boiled up from his flesh where she'd broken it.
The monster bellowed in triumph while the man inside could only watch in dismay.
The girl released her hold, laughing in sex-drunk joy.
Then his mouth was on her, finding the bruised, raw skin he'd worked over in preparation. He bit down in a claim, sealing their bond.
The mad monster of Sector 2 had taken a bride.
Chapter Five
Naya
Naya shook her head and sputtered when a stream of water ran into her face.
The water poured through a large, round spigot above them, the backside of a metal bowl with holes poked in it. It came out with no more pressure than gravity provided. Tucked in the alpha's arms, she licked her lips when the water touched them. They stood there until drenched by the tepid liquid.
He turned a lever and stopped the flow.
"Stand." The command in his voice was deep and gritty, his tone so low it vibrated through her chest.
Naya’s body obeyed before her mind did. She unfolded herself to stand on loose, trembling legs. Pain zinged sharp and insistent down the cords of her inner thighs and up into her body where it still ached and burned—and not in a pleasant way.
The coupling had hurt.
She wanted to do it again.
It hurt worse without him inside her, a building throb sharp at all the edges. He'd rammed himself deep inside her, created space for himself. Why wasn't he filling her up?
He needed to rub at the hurt. Ease it. That was his job. Instead he had her in this water for some reason she couldn't comprehend.
"Girl. Stand," he repeated.
Her body trembled from head to toe in response. He pushed her back a single step, steadying her with a hand so large it covered her entire shoulder. He was big.
They were in a long box—a shower, but not like one she'd ever seen. There wasn't anywhere for her to go, no way to put space between them.
From a bucket hanging on the wall, the man pulled a cloth and lathered it.
Wait. What day was it? Naya made a noise of protest. She remembered buckets and drones and a scrub brush not fit for pavement.
She opened her mouth to tell him she'd already bathed, but as the soapy water ran down her body to the drain, it changed color from pink to red. They were both covered in sticky red matter.
Paint? Ink? She didn't remember.
She registered the mixture of disgusting scents—blood, body fluids, and pheromones. The cool water felt good on her naked, feverish skin, but it didn't reduce the nerve-deep demand quickening in her body. She wanted to mate.
He needed to fill the space inside her.
Naya’s center clenched and slick spilled down her thighs. She moaned, reaching for him. She needed to crawl inside of him. Desire to wrap herself around him and mold herself against his body compelled her. They should fit their pieces back together the way they belonged.
What was wrong with this alpha? Did he not want her? Why was he making her wait?
She'd been so sure, even though he hadn't said it. She'd felt it—his call, his demand. He’d wanted her bite. He'd asked in the end, hadn't he?
She needed that again, but he was wasting time with bubbles and wash rags.
Drugged by his smell—cedar and nutmeg, like spice cake cooked over an open fire—Naya had allowed him to do things to her and had done things to him she’d never imagined.
