Vengeance in His Bed

Dorrent shifted his weight slightly, his frame pressing heavier between her thighs as he looked down into her flashing eyes. "You can tell your mind that I am not your type, Jannah... but you can never lie to me and say that you don’t want me."

"I don’t want—"

Before she could even form the words to reject him, Dorrent’s hand shot down beneath her thighs. His fingers slid over her sensitive outer lips, his palm flattening against her womanly junction.

Jannah let out a sudden, sharp gasp, her mouth flying wide open as his hand registered the overwhelming reality of her body. She was wet. A torrent of slick moisture had completely soaked through her center, weeping uncontrollably against his skin despite her venomous words.

Dorrent didn’t show an ounce of mercy. He began to aggressively rub his palm over her throbbing node, applying a heavy, pressurized friction that sent a blinding shockwave of stimulation straight to her brain.

"Ah-hnn... stop!" Jannah gasped out through the breathless, fractured sound of his hand igniting her flesh. Her hips gave a weak, traitorous arch against his palm, her core convulsing around his fingers. She desperately clutched his wrists, her voice breaking into a breathless beg. "Dorrent... please, stop it... can we never... can we never talk without being intimate?! This... this disgusting perversion will only ruin a serious talk..."

"I wouldn’t mind ruining it at all," Dorrent rasped out, his voice thick, rough, and swamped with an intense, unholy hunger as his hand maintained its rhythmic, heavy friction over her weeping center. "I wouldn’t mind burning down this entire house if it meant I would get to have you right now, Jannah. Your body belongs to my touch."

"Maybe... maybe if you would stop being so perverted like you are..." Jannah gasped out, her eyes rolling back slightly as his hand suddenly increased its speed between her thighs, his fingers digging into her sensitive flesh, driving her to the edge of a messy climax. She fought through the heavy fog of pleasure, her voice shaking with a bleeding honesty. "...maybe you would have actually been my type! I hate how perverted you are! I loathe how manipulative you are with my body!"

Dorrent froze entirely.

His hand stopped its rapid motion, remaining flat and heavy against her soaking, weeping center. He slowly lifted his head, his eyes locking onto her flushed face. Her lips were swollen, her chest heaving in rapid, jagged cycles, and her skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat under the lamp light.

"Even if it makes you feel this good, Jannah?" Dorrent asked quietly, his voice dropping into a rough, strained frequency. "Even when your body responds to me this intensely, you still hate it?"

"I loathe it!" Jannah shrieked, a sudden, breaking sob ripping out of her throat as the emotional dam inside her chest finally burst. "I loathe it very much, Dorrent! I loathe how your disgusting touch makes me completely lose control of my own flesh! It makes me crave for things I don’t want... things my mind completely rejects! You can never, ever understand how horrific it feels for me... to look at the very face that was responsible for my parents’ brutal death... and then feel my body begging for him!"

Hot, stinging tears finally broke free from her eyes, pouring down her pale cheeks in a torrential downpour of agony. Her frame began to shake beneath him, her chest bouncing as she broke down into hysterical, broken sobs, losing her complete restraint.

"Every single time... every single time I am riding on top of you," she wept, her voice shattering into a ragged, miserable whisper that cut through the silence like a scalpel, "every time I let you sink inside me... I feel like I am betraying my parents. I feel like a filthy, disgusting traitor to my own blood."

Dorrent went utterly rigid.

The words hit his chest like a physical, crushing blow, completely draining the predatory heat from his veins. He stopped himself entirely, his hand slowly slipping away from her wet lower half, his fingers trembling as he looked down at the strong nineteen-year-old girl sobbing beneath him.

The fog of his own possessive desire vanished, replaced by a sudden, terrifying clarity that filled his chest with a cold dread. He looked at her blotchy, tear-stained face, her small shoulders shaking with a grief that had been locked away for long.

For the first time since she had come into this mansion, Dorrent truly realized the horrific disparity between them. She was only nineteen years old. She was too young—so completely, heartbreakingly too young to be experiencing these conflicting feelings of primal craving for the very man who had orphaned her as a child. She had so little experience with the chaotic architecture of an omega’s biology, compared to him—a thirty-four-year-old dominant Alpha.

A sickening wave of self-loathing crashed through his chest. He realized how all this time, during every single encounter in bed, all he had ever been doing was taking unhesitating advantage of her natural arousal and her weak, sensitive body that easily responded to his presence and touch. Not once had he truly cared about her emotional fractures when he sunk his length into her. He was a grown man, almost twice her age, and he had been treating her like a hardened, mature woman who could handle the psychological warfare of his desire. But she wasn’t a grown woman. She was just a broken, traumatized girl who didn’t know what to do when her flesh became aroused, leaving her with no choice but to have him fuck her even when her mind and soul were scream-crying against it.

An aching sorrow completely overtook his handsome features. Without a single drop of his usual arrogance, Dorrent leaned his frame down. He threw his arms around her shaking body, hauling her frame tightly against his chest in a desperate, fiercely protective hug. He buried his face in her hair, his lips moving against her hot cheeks, tenderly kissing the tears away as they poured from her eyes.

"I am so sorry," Dorrent whispered, his voice cracking with an intense, raw emotion he had never allowed himself to feel before. He squeezed her tight, ignoring the sharp, tearing pain in his bandaged ribs as he held her against his heart. "I am so sorry for overwhelming you with these horrific feelings, Jannah. I am a bastard. I just... I can’t control my need for you. The moment I am near you, my mind loses its logic, and how bad I always want you... it’s like you have completely bewitched my inner alpha."

He smoothed his palm down the back of her head, his voice trembling with a desperate sincerity. "Please... don’t blame your body for behaving this way. You shouldn’t loathe yourself, little physician. It is only natural biology. Your body’s response to my pheromones has absolutely nothing to do with you betraying your parents. You are innocent in this. I am the only monster here."

Jannah’s mind was blinded by her grief and fury. Hearing his apologies, hearing the frequency of his remorse only made the hatred in her chest turn into a lethal, burning fire. She didn’t want his comfort. She didn’t want his pathetic understanding.

With a sudden, feral burst of strength, she lunged her head forward. Her teeth bared, and she bit down onto the shell of his right ear with the hardest, most vicious force her jaw could muster. She sank her teeth deep into the cartilage, her grip so unrelenting that the taste of his blood instantly flooded her mouth.

"I hate you!" she shrieked through her locked jaw, her voice a muffled, hysterical weapon against his neck. "I hate you so bad that it is literally killing me, Dorrent!"

Dorrent flinched from the sudden, agonizing burst of pain, a grunt escaping his locked teeth. He tightened his arms around her trembling waist, holding her even closer against him as his blood began to trickle down her chin.

"Bite me," Dorrent growled through his pain, his voice a rough, bleeding vibration against her ear. "Bite me as much as you want, Jannah. Tear the flesh right off my bone if that is what it takes to reduce that hatred in your chest."