Page 9 of Drowned By the Dreadnought

“Good try, little mouse, but you won’t fool me with these cheap tricks. I won’t fall at your feet because you bat your lashes and shed a few tears. Now open up and use that mouth for what it’s really made for.”

I resign myself to his abuse and retreat behind the invisible shield I’ve built, but my heart aches as he angles his hips and aims his tip toward my mouth.

The premonition building within my jumbled emotions warns me of my imminent failure. Deep down, I know my defenses won’t last against his brutality. It doesn’t matter how much he hurts me; my omega instincts will yield to his dominance. I crave his touch even though wounds fester in my soul from his disappearance and recent cruelty.

His mocking words bounce around in my skull. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose, refusing to bat my lashes and shed a few tears for his amusement.

My lack of reaction infuriates him just as it did my father. Alpha egos hate being ignored.

Surprisingly smooth, warm flesh presses against my lips and intriguing masculine pheromones invade my nostrils.

“Open,” he snarls.

I hesitate, unsure if he means my eyes or mouth, but choose the lesser of two evils and part my teeth, deciding to protect my soul over my body. I can’t win against his strength, but the slight, improbable chance of me maintaining a sliver of my sanity lures me into reluctant obedience.

A moment passes. Water trickles into my mouth and threatens to go up my nose, but he pushes the broad head of his cock between my lips and forces himself past my teeth.

“Open wider. If your teeth scrape my cock again, I’ll return the favor.” He thrusts deeper, but the awkward angle means he hits the roof of my mouth. He groans. “Do you want that, little mouse? Want me to bite your pussy? I could mark you there and ruin you for anyone else.”

I try to shake my head, but his hand on my forehead doesn’t budge, so I squirm and grunt. My mind screams no while heat pulses between my legs.

He shifts back and forth, rubbing my stretched lips and mashing the roof of my mouth. Wetness leaks from his tip and slides toward the back of my throat.

I can’t resist. He smells so good. I need to taste him.

His flavor blasts along my taste buds as I run my tongue over him. He jerks and groans as a stronger wave of fluid leaks from his tip.

I’m a goner. Delight spears through me. Wonder grips my omega side. I’m helpless against my overwhelming need.

Instincts overrule my higher thoughts. A needy sound leaves my throat and I lick him again as I try to take more of him into my mouth.

He pulls his cock away with a snarl.

“What the fuck are you—” I steal a lick. “Goddamn it, Morwenna, come here,” he groans.

I gasp as he slips his hand from my forehead to the back of my head, my scalp lighting up with delicious sensations. My entire body tingles and throbs as he lifts me into a sitting position with his hand cupped around the base of my skull. He shuffles backward and rises into a high kneel with his knees on either side of my hips.

I don’t even think to fight as he angles my face and pushes his cock into my mouth. I mewl, making animalistic sounds I know will embarrass me when I think about them later, and accept his harried thrusts as the vibrations emanating from his chest drop impossibly lower.

“Fuckin’ hell, little mouse. So good,” he purrs.

My insides melt at his praise as he weaves both hands into my hair and kneads my scalp. My heart basks in his praise while my mind struggles to understand how such momentous emotions can rise from such a degrading act, but my body leaps out of my control, and I worship his cock with my mouth. Following my instincts, I swirl my tongue as much as his girth will allow, tighten my lips around him, and suck as though I can force more of the delicious nectar out of his tip.

His groans feed my soul. He pulls me closer. I hum as he hits the back of my throat, too far gone to gag despite my watering eyes.

He jerks away. I follow with a hungry growl. His hands tighten painfully in my hair.

His snarl breaks the spell of lust and yearning woven around me by his taste. He yanks my head back. The fury in his eyes decimates my sense of self worth. I feel dirty. So dirty.

“You almost fooled me, you lying little whore,” he snarls.

I push against his thighs, shame and fear seeping into my soul, but he twists his fingers in my hair and shoves his cock back into my mouth. All traces of pleasure flee and only brutality, self-loathing, and suffocation remain.

“This isn’t your first time servicing a male like this, is it?” His words strike deep into my wounded heart. He punctuates each thrust with an angry growl. “How many do I need to kill? How dirty is this mouth? This throat?” I dig my nails into his thighs as he forces himself so deep he blocks my airway. It hurts. I can’t breathe. I panic. He ignores my struggles and uses me as he pleases.

“Why, Morwenna?” he snarls, silently cursing me with every painful jerk of his hips.

Spit and snot join the water running down my face as he quickens his pace and lengthens his thrusts, pulling out far enough so his tip hits the back of my teeth, then sinking deeper into my throat, again and again until my jaw aches and my throat throbs.

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