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EZRA

“Don’t move, sir.”

Delicate hands cleaned the wounds on my chest, wiping away the blood and rubbing them with a strong disinfectant. I hissed at the sting and cursed under my breath, but the little omega was undeterred as she laughed.

“Mighty ‘alpha of alphas,’ can’t handle a little puribalm.”

I was lucky to be alive, I supposed. I had been off to the side of the brunt of Marlowe’s attack, where she’d burned the alphas from the inside out.

My lungs felt a little charred, and the cuts from the Berserker’s gross claws hurt like a bitch, but otherwise I was okay.

I sucked in a quick breath as she dabbed another wound. “Like you could do any better,”

I grumbled.

She tucked the curtain of hair that had fallen across her cheek behind her ear, revealing a long, jagged scar across her cheek. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m used to it,”

she replied softly.

Dammit, I hated it here. I knew that shifters had lived in havens for hundreds of years, and that when Alaroth took the throne he started separating the designations—betas in the labor camps, alphas in the garrisons, and omegas used as needed, either for his pleasure or the alphas’.

But they weren’t allowed to form packs or bonds, so neither alphas nor omegas could find any satisfaction besides the fleeting physical. I didn’t have a pack myself, but I could feel the call for one. The need to claim others as my own.

It was different from the connection I had with Marlowe. ‘Had’ being the operative term, because now she wanted nothing to do with me.

But the alphas here weren’t… normal. They’d been raised as mindless grunts, not as individuals to pursue their own interests and become well-rounded people. I couldn’t even hold a conversation with one, they only talked about fighting and fucking.

It was exhausting.

The omegas were brought up separately until they came to the age of maturity, the king taking the ones he liked while the rest were sent to places like this, forced to service the alphas and provide them an outlet for their frustrations.

And by the look of the scar on this one’s face, it wasn’t always just for sex.

The ends of her soft, shiny black hair tickled my chest as she worked, bandaging the worst of the cuts. Her chestnut brown skin looked warm, and large, brown eyes with thick lashes watched me carefully. Timidly.

“I’m not going to hurt you,”

I said quietly. Maybe she’d already guessed, seeing as how I wasn’t like the other alphas here. But I wanted her to know for certain that she was safe with me.

Her cinnamon and clove perfume washed over me and I closed my eyes, inadvertently licking my lips. “You smell like Christmas.”

The omega’s giggle was like a bell. “Krissmiss? What’s that?”

“A holiday on Earth,”

I explained. Her full, wide hips swayed hypnotically as she got up to grab more bandages from a nearby table. The dress she wore was thin, and I saw the shadow of her thick thighs. My cock began to stir as I imagined them around my face.

I hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Her curvy body was exactly my type, and I willed my cock to behave. She didn’t need me coming onto her and knotting her like the others in this place. I had just promised her I wouldn’t hurt her, for Moons’ sake.

She hummed a little song as she worked, but every moment I spent in her presence was making more difficult to contain myself. Especially as she moved onto the cuts on my abdomen.

“Spring…”

I was lost in a daydream of fucking her against the wall. “Hm?”

“That’s what you smell like. It’s nice.”

My cock wasn’t listening anymore, and now stood straight up. It was times like these it might have been better if I wore clothes.

“What’s your name?”

I asked, my voice getting low.

“Canna. And you’re the Commander.”

I grabbed her hand and took it to my lips, kissing it gently. “You can call me Ezra.”

Her cheeks blushed adorably, and a fresh wave of her scent released into the air. She took her hand back and then looked at my cock, hard and ready to go. Pre-cum glistening on the head, and she bit her lip.

“Canna, you are here to dress my wounds. I don’t expect anything else of you.”

She turned towards me, hurt in her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m almost done, I apologize.”

Shit, she thought I was spurning her. I stifled a groan as I pushed myself up. “No, you have nothing to apologize for. I simply mean you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The hurt melted away, replaced by a mischievous understanding. She slowly ran a finger from my swollen knot, up my shaft and to the tip. My whole body shivered. “And what about the things I want to do?”

she purred.

Fuck. I could lose myself in those eyes. Those thighs…

“What do you want to do, Canna?”

I asked, my throat bobbing.

She moved herself onto the bed between my legs, grabbing a hold of my cock and lowering her mouth right above it. “I want to taste you.”

Her warm, soft tongue circled the head, and I moaned, my fingers digging into the sheets.

One hand massaging my balls, the other on my knot, she expertly worked her mouth up and down, licking every inch and inserting as much of me into her mouth as she could. When her lidded eyes met mine I nearly lost it, resisting the urge to buck and cause her to gag.

“Canna,”

I sighed. “You feel so good.”

She hummed her response, the vibration driving me crazy. I couldn’t take it anymore, and I ran my fingers through her thick, silky black hair. I marveled at the hints of blue and purple that were picked up in the light, feeling my release hurtling towards me like a train.

My balls tightened and I groaned, spilling myself into her mouth. She happily milked every last drop from my cock, pulling away with a smile as she swallowed.

Something in me clicked. I needed her, more than just for this moment. I suddenly couldn’t imagine not having her in my bed every night, crying my name as my knot locked inside her sweet pussy.

I beckoned her with a finger. “Come, it’s my turn.”

She blushed again. “What do you mean?”

I laid back down. “I can’t move, I need you here,”

I replied, pointing to my face.

Her eyes widened in shock and surprise, but then she nodded eagerly and shimmied out of her dress.

My breath hitched at the sight of her. Full, heavy breasts with dusky nipples begging to be sucked, and hips made for grabbing onto. Her perfect skin was marred by more scars, and she nervously covered the bigger ones with her hands.

“Don’t,”

I ordered. She stopped moving towards me, her shoulders slumping in shame.

“Don’t cover yourself from me, Canna. You are so beautiful. I want to see every inch of you.”

She raised her eyes to mine, my cock coming back to life. “Really?”

she asked, her voice small.

It killed me to think she was embarrassed of her body. Of her battle wounds.

She was tough. A warrior. She was surviving this hellhole.

But that all ended today. Because today, she was coming with me. And on me.

“Really,”

I replied. “Now sit that beautiful pussy right on my face so I can lap up that slick straight from the tap.”

She laughed again, the sound making my teeth ache to claim her. To latch down on her lovely neck and mark her as mine.

Canna slowly crawled on top of me, making sure to avoid touching my wounds. Then she kneeled around my head, her hands holding onto the headboard behind me. Her smell enveloped me and I growled, grabbing her juicy ass and slamming her right into me. My tongue pierced through her tight pussy and we both moaned, her taste even sweeter than her smell.

“Ezra,”

she whispered, now beginning to grind her hips across me. “Mmm, Ezra.”

I licked through her folds, finding her clit and sucking it between my teeth. She whined, the sound going straight to my cock. “Do you like that?” I asked.

She rubbed herself against me harder. “Don’t stop!”

I chuckled and continued, so happy she felt so at ease with me that she could order me around. I would gladly be her slave.

My hands ran up and down her hips and thighs as I ate her out, the pain in my chest gone as I lost myself in the pleasure of her pleasure. Was she a screamer? Did she like to come silently, with her mouth parted in a small little “oh?”

I needed to find out, soon.

One of her hands left the headboard and she grabbed her own breast, kneading and pinching as her climax hastened.

Oh, my sweet omega. She was a goddess.

I focused all my attention on her clit, and she threw her head back and yelled. “Yes, yes yes!”

Every second I wasn’t inside her was a waste, and I didn’t care about my injuries as I lifted her off me and slid under, flipping around and kneeling behind her. I entered her with a hard push, feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm clench around my cock.

“Yes, Ezra!”

she screamed. “Fuck me just like that!”

“I am yours to command, Canna.”

The bed scraped wonderfully against the floor as I thrusted with everything I had, her pussy stretching perfectly to accommodate me. My hands grabbed her hips and I pulled her in with each push, my balls tightening and getting ready for my next release as they slapped against her wet skin.

Slick was dripping down her legs and I wanted to lick her all over again, losing myself to the rut and euphoria of her perfect body.

I would not be leaving here without her.

“Canna,”

I growled. “I want you. I want only you. Can I claim you?”

“Yes!”

she screamed. Her orgasm returned, and she continued to come around me until I couldn’t hold out any longer, releasing myself inside her and locking my knot in place. Then I grabbed her around the waist and brought her up, sinking my teeth into her neck.

A small gasp of surprise and pain turned into one of pleasure. “Yours,”

she sighed, deliriously. “Yours, yours, yours.”

“Yes,”

I replied, licking the wound closed.

Mine.