Page 12 of His Prize
Half a minute later, I began to question whether it had been as good for Darby as it’d been for me.
My knot was still tight inside him. Usually, omegas felt soothed and euphoric when an alpha had them knotted, even if they didn’t particularly like the alpha. I’d never been with anomega who didn’t purr and preen and have aftershock orgasms while we were knotted.
Darby was weeping. And not the good kind, because he’d been so well satisfied. He was genuinely weeping. His listless body was limp, not with bliss, but with what felt more like abject defeat.
If that wasn’t bad enough, he quietly moaned, “They all could have died.”
My eyes popped wide, and the sweet high of orgasm quickly faded, despite still being knotted and joined tightly with Darby. That presented me with a huge problem.
Something wasn’t right with Darby. His comment, which I wasn’t sure he’d heard himself make, clearly wasn’t about the fantasy. But the hard and fast rules of the Dark Fantasies Club were that you could not bring real life into a fantasy unless both parties agreed to it. You couldn’t ask your fantasy partner about their real identity or the problems facing them in their lives.
I’d never been interested in the lives or identities of the omegas I’d played with before. Outside of the characters we’d created for ourselves to play with, they were, essentially, anonymous sex encounters. Everyone agreed to that, and everyone liked it that way.
I felt the visceral need to know more about what had Darby weeping so hard. The teacher in me, the coach who looked after the mental health and welfare of his students and players, flared to life, wanting to know what he could do to help. But how did you help when you were forbidden from learning the first thing about your fantasy partner?
I started with the parameters of the fantasy.
“Did you like that, boy?” I asked, thrusting a bit in Darby to move my knot over his prostate. “Did you like being bred by your owner?”
As expected, Darby shuddered with an aftershock orgasm, his body tensing, then going hopelessly limp. “Yes, sir,” he panted listlessly.
“Are you a wretched thing that deserves to be used as a dump for alpha seed?” I growled close to his ear.
“Yes, sir,” he moaned, dark with emotion.
I needed more.
“What do you deserve, boy?” I demanded, leaning into him so he would feel even more constrained and skewered. “Tell me!”
“I deserve to be punished,” he gasped, his body twitching under me. “I deserve pain, humiliation.”
I sucked in a breath, easing up the intensity of my possession of his body and breathing in his berry scent as I did. I was getting a better idea of what I was dealing with. Being physically joined with Darby while he was in heat had the advantage of opening a tiny conduit for me to feel what he was feeling, and what I was getting from him was dark, guilty.
Right. I’d felt this sort of thing, in the vaguest terms, from high school kids who had flubbed a play and lost an important game. They felt like they’d let the entire team down, like they were worthless and should be cut because they were a liability. I’d never once cut a player for making one mistake, though. Or even several mistakes. The players who failed were the ones who deserved more attention. They were the ones who needed the support of their coach more than ever.
If that’s what I was dealing with, I would need to shift tactics with Darby. Not all the way, of course. This wasn’t a high school soccer game, this was a dark fantasy. Darby had agreed to test the omega auction concept because he wanted to have dirty, kinky sex with an anonymous alpha Dom.
Well, there was more than one way to feed a sub’s need for humiliation and lowliness. There was definitely more than one way to share a fix for deviant sex with someone while gettingthem to a better place mentally. But to do that, I needed to say goodbye to the sadistic playboy and hello to the nurturing praise Dom, whether Darby was ready for it or not.
CHAPTER FIVE
Darby
Ishouldn’t have shown up this afternoon for the omega auction trial. This whole thing was a terrible idea. I’d thought by throwing myself at the mercy of a Dom I could get the punishment I deserved for my failures, but it just wasn’t working out that way.
“There, there,” my sadistic prince said, kissing my bunched and sweating shoulder as his knot started to go down. “It will feel better in a second.”
I hung my head as much as I could in the tight restrictions. It already felt too good, and that was the problem.
He might have looked young and green, but this millionaire rich kid knew how to work my omega body like he was playing an instrument. I don’t know how he did it, but he was so in tune with what I craved and what gave me pleasure. He’d been able to push my buttons in a way no one else ever had, giving me wave after wave of orgasms so intense that they hurt.
He felt so right knotted in me. Everything about his body, especially his cock and knot, was oversized and made me feel like my anatomy would need to rearrange itself to accommodate him. But I was happy to do that. I was happy to be at his mercy.
I was happy, and I didn’t deserve it.
People could have died because of me.
“Mmm, your scent is delicious,” my prince hummed, sniffing my neck as his knot continued to go down. He licked my skin, causing a shiver to slip all the way down my spine to my still half-hard cock. “I could cuddle you all day.”
