Page 21 of Her Broken Alpha
His tone didn’t appeal to her any more than his grunt. It wasn't nice. But something more complex tugged at her chest—pain, not anger. She rubbed at the feeling, frowning. Was that him? What did he have to be hurt or angry about?
Naya needed him to lay with her. Put his thing in her.
Knot her.
Naya closed her eyes and moaned as slick poured out of the “V” between her clenched thighs. She looked down at it. There was so much. Now she understood her mother's extra-thick padded panties. What a mess.
"What can I call you?" she asked quietly. She wanted to know the name of the alpha who made her slick at the very thought of him.
"You can call me Monster, because that is who claimed you." He shut the water off and picked her up without drying off.
A delighted hum built in her chest at the satisfying skin-to-skin contact. Oh, yes. She needed this.
"You're supposed to be afraid of me. Terrified," he rumbled.
Naya wrapped herself around him as best she could, frustrated by an inability to lock her ankles and squeeze him tight. He was just too big. Hitched high on his chest, she found the place where she had marked him and bit him again.
Chapter Six
Naya
He carried her into a room with an oddly positioned bed lifted high off the ground. The space was clean, but it looked old. This whole place reminded her of a rundown building from another era that needed a million good sector credits’ worth of remodeling.
Furnishings were sparse: a standing rack of clothing, two gigantic trunks, and a wooden chair with a broken spoke where a glowing clay lamp had been set. No rug on the floor. No comfy window seat for reading.
Thin and worn bedding covered a broken-in mattress. It was completely unacceptable. When Monster tried to set her on it, Naya jerked away and clung to him.
"What is that? This isn't my nest!" The pitch in her voice climbed with every word until she was screeching.
Monster grumbled. "Fucked you on my desk and you were fine. Put you in my bed, and now you want a nest?"
"You can take me home. I have a nest there. Just take me a minute to arrange it for... you," she said primly, picturing what she had prepared versus this alpha's size.
"No. No going home for you, girl. You use what I have,” he said with a put-upon sigh. "I didn't know I would need nest-building materials and girly shit today."
His words contradicted his mind-bending purr and the way his hand glided along her back and through her wet hair. He made no move to put her down; instead he went over to one of the trunks. Shifting her to his hip, he worked the combination and threw open the lid, pulling out the long top tray. Then he grunted at her again.
This was a nicer grunt—noncommittal, but it seemed to ask a question.
Naya looked inside. She saw bundles that looked like real furs.
"Oh, yes,” she moaned in delight. Loosening her legs, she slipped to the floor so she could see better, touch better.
There were three giant furs, all of them different textures, colors, and types. She'd never seen anything like them. There was one with long, curly white and blond hair, enticingly soft and shaggy; one with shiny black hair that lightened to chocolate brown near what she thought were arms and legs, sleek in one direction, but prickly when brushed in the other; and the third one had brown stripes interspersed over gold hairs that almost looked orange and was amazingly soft.
There were smaller furs too. She gathered everything she found, then went to his clothes rack and picked items from there.
All of this she arranged carefully on his bed. She got in and out of her creation a couple of times, rolling around, testing the size and layers, feeling those furs on her bottom, her breasts, and making noises of delight.
"Are you done yet?" Monster asked.
Naya hummed as she looked up at him.
All his muscles were magnificently tense. His cock arched dramatically in his hand, leaking milky stuff that he caught with his palm and drew down the shaft, rubbing it in.
The flesh there had a darker pigment than the rest of him, colored like a ripe plum at the tip and blending to a deep nut-brown at the base where hair curled in tight, short circles.
Beneath his cock—round and swollen, dark skin taut—were his testicles. The diagrams from her studies hadn't been colorized and hadn’t described the heady smell, nor the tempting hair she wanted to rub against her cheeks. Bigger than her wrist was wide and ridiculously long, she couldn't believe that his cock had fit inside of her.
