Taken by the Tanker by V.T. Bonds

Author:V.T. Bonds [Bonds, V.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: V.T. Bonds
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Char

One moment, gentle caresses lure me closer to a lust-drunk, restless sleep, but the next, The Tanker’s warm body disappears from my back and cold metal presses against my front. Fingers weave through my hair and pin the side of my face to the table, filling my vision with the half empty water jug.

I flail, but my full belly slows my reflexes, and he pins my hips to the edge of the table with his own before I land any hits. His knuckles brush against my back, and the scent of his seed fills my nostrils. Another moment passes before I realize he’s stroking his gigantic cock while he looms over my prone form.

I don’t know how to react. Obeying my first instinct—which is to fight and scream—will surely end in pain, and while I hate the degradation of him spilling his seed on my flesh, he hasn’t torn me to pieces like most alphas would have.

I still don’t understand why. Or how. Or what.

So, I clamp my teeth together and endure the ache in my belly, trying to ignore my cheering omega instincts as his vile offering splashes onto my back, shoulders, the side of my face, and my hair.

I blame my reluctance to move on the fullness of my stomach. The unusual food doesn’t sit right, and even though I want more water, the thought of putting anything else down my throat makes me nauseous.

The throbbing lower in my abdomen changes, like there’s too much there, yet not enough. I squirm as the rough surface of the table digs into my hips. He groans and shifts his aim so the fresh wave of musky, salty liquid lands on my cheek and chin. I breathe through my nose and press my lips tightly together.

He pulls my hair, so I push off the table to stand, but he shoves me onto my knees. I balk as he rubs his still-spurting tip all over my face, but he grabs my hair near the roots and mashes the tip of his cock against my lips. Wonder blanks my mind as I push against his thighs and feel the softness of his leg hair. Such a big, hard man shouldn’t be so silky.

“Open your mouth.”

I can’t. I really, really can’t. I’ll throw up. I’m too full.

I shake my head and push against his thighs as hard as my trembling arms will allow. He relentlessly sprays fresh seed against my lips, so I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my teeth.

“Look at me.”

His cold snarl sends dread through me. I lift my lids and look up into his blown pupils. His teeth reflect the soft yellow electric light as he bares them. Another wave jettisons from his cock. His beard does nothing to hide his grimace of pleasure.

“Open. Your. Mouth.”

He punctuates each word with a deceptively slow glide of his tip across my lips and a tightening of his fingers in my hair.

Saliva fills my mouth and salty fluid stings my nostrils, but I beg him with the only tool I have left—my wide eyes—and pray he relents.

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