Chapter 88 Chapter 88
Reed
Rayne chuckled, low and amused, his breath hot against my cheek as he said, “You always did like to outdo yourself… and I’m the silly one for continuing to indulge you. But we’re not quite done yet.”
Before I could blink, I was flat on my back.
He moved like lightning—flipping me over, knocking the breath out of my lungs, and pinning both my wrists above my head in one iron grip. His cock slid out of me, leaving me achingly empty for a heartbeat, but the look in his eyes told me he had no plans of ending this any time soon.
With his free hand, Rayne ran his palm down my chest, rough and claiming. When he reached my nipple, he pinched it—hard. Sharp pain shot through my chest and I gasped, arching up, grinding uselessly against nothing.
Rayne gave me a cruel little smile. “Your body’s looking way too spotless for how filthy you are.”
I laughed breathlessly, pushing my hips up just to feel something, anything. “Mark me then,” I said, bratty and eager. “I want your teeth everywhere. So much I can’t hide it. Scent me. Brand me. Make me yours in every possible way.”
His pupils dilated. I leaned in, voice dropping. “Don’t be gentle with me. I won’t break. Wanna be your Omega bitch.”
That was all it took.
Rayne descended on me like a predator. His mouth was on my throat, biting, sucking, nipping, leaving hickeys like bruised kisses. I gasped as he bit down hard, right over the side of my neck—his fangs dragging against my skin like he was pretending I was an Omega. Pretending he could mark me for real.
Pleasure flared with the pain and I cried out, shuddering as he lapped at the small trail of blood he drew. My heart stuttered in my chest. It felt right. Even if it wasn’t a real mark, I wanted it. I needed it.
“Fuck, Rayne…” I gasped, squirming as he moved lower.
He bit again—my collarbone, then lower. My ribs, my abdomen, my inner thigh. He knew exactly where Omega scent glands would be if I were actually one and he devoured every one of them. My body throbbed with the attention, every nerve ending alive.
By the time he was done, I was a masterpiece of bruises, welts, and bite marks. My skin sang. My cock twitched, hard again even though I’d just come, leaking against my stomach, red and untouched.
Then, his voice dropped.
“Mine.”
Rayne grabbed one of my thighs, hiked it up over his shoulder, and slammed into me in one sharp, brutal thrust. No warning, no preamble.
I couldn’t breathe.
The sudden pressure knocked the air out of my lungs and I froze for a moment, fingers scrabbling at the sheets. Then it hit—the fullness, the heat, the stretch. I forced a breath back into my body and moaned, my eyes rolling back into my head.
He didn’t wait this time. No buildup. Just raw, reckless fucking. He pounded into me like he was trying to erase something—his guilt, his doubts, his regrets. All of it, shoved deep into me, over and over.
And gods, I thrived on it.
His hips pistoned forward furiously like he had something to prove—hard, fast, rough. His grip bruised my hips as he used me like I was nothing but a warm, tight hole to fuck. And fuck, it felt so good. The drag of his cock, the slap of skin against skin, the filth of it.
I loved being used by him like this.
I gasped, voice hoarse. “Give it to me. All of it. Your anger. Your pain. Your hate—fuck it all into me. I can take it.”
Something snapped in him.
“Such a needy little bitch,” he growled into my ear. “You like being used, don’t you? Like being nothing but a fuckhole for me to unload into.”
I nodded furiously, body shaking. “Yes—yes, I love it—please—”
He slammed harder, his grip punishing, nails digging into my hips. I knew I’d bruise. I wanted to. He bent me in half, took me like I was his property. His thrusts turned violent, every slam echoing off the walls.
“You want me to fill you up? Make you drip with my cum like a good little cumdump? That it?”
“Yes! Fill me up—make a mess of me—please Rayne!”
“Fucking slut. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you? I could spit in your mouth and you’d say thank you.”
My brain short-circuited at that. I opened my mouth on instinct.
He didn’t hesitate—he spat, and I swallowed it down like it was holy.
“I knew it,” he snarled. “Fucking perfect. My dirty little whore.”
I screamed when he hit that spot inside me again, my voice breaking into a sob. I was leaking all over myself, cock bouncing against my stomach, red and pathetic. No one was touching it. I didn’t care. This—this—was what I craved.
Rayne growled, low and unrestrained. “Just look at you, so drunk on cock you can't even think straight. You like being used, this much? Fucking pathetic. Just lying there, legs spread, begging for it like a filthy little cumdump.”
I moaned loudly, tightening around him. “Yes,” I gasped. “Use me. Treat me like the whore I am.”
His hips slammed harder. “You don’t even care if I love you, do you? You just want my cock. My cum. You want to be bred like the needy little bitch you are.”
My cock twitched violently. I was so close again it hurt.
Rayne grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. His other hand dug into my hip, keeping me in place as he pistoned into me like he was trying to fuck the memory of anyone else out of my body.
“This what you want? To get wrecked? Split open and stuffed full?”
“Yes—fuck—Rayne, yes,” I sobbed, nails clawing the sheets. “Harder. Use me harder. Want to feel it tomorrow. Want to feel you inside me for days.”
I felt raw, ruined, perfect.
My cock was bobbing uselessly between us, not even touched, just bouncing against my stomach. Precum dripped from the tip in long, messy strings. I was a mess. A wreck. His wreck.
Rayne’s thrusts grew sloppy. I could feel the tension in his body, the low growl vibrating from his chest.
“Cum inside me,” I begged, desperate. “Breed me, I wanna feel it. Want your cum in me so deep I’m leaking for days. Stuff me full—make my belly swell—please, please—breed me like a bitch.”
He snarled.
One more brutal thrust, then another—and he came with a shuddering growl, hot spurts of cum flooding me. He didn’t stop thrusting, not even as he came, his hips jerking to fuck it deeper, stuffing it back inside like he didn’t want to waste a single drop.
That did it.
I screamed, head thrown back, cumming untouched. My cock jerked and spilled all over my stomach in thick, hot ropes. My hole clenched around him, milking every last drop of his release.
We stayed like that for a few seconds—trembling, panting, fucked-out and shaking.
Rayne pulled out slowly and I whimpered at the loss. I could feel his cum dripping down my ass, thick and warm. I wished I could plug it up, keep it inside me. I wanted to keep him inside me always.
He collapsed beside me, chest heaving.
I turned to him, grinning like an idiot, utterly spent. “Don’t you feel a lot better now?”
Rayne let out a tired yawn. “Yes. And it’s all because of you. Thanks, love. You’re the best.”
I chuckled, brushing a kiss against his lips, lazy and satisfied. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here.”
He hummed, curling slightly toward me as his eyes fluttered shut.
I lay there, blanket pulled over us, watching him. My eyes roamed his face, every line, every shadow, drinking him in like it was the last time. He looked so peaceful when he slept—so handsome it hurt. I was obsessed. Addicted.
He was mine.
Eventually, the quiet rhythm of his breathing lulled me. My body ached in the best way. His scent was all over me. Inside me.
I closed my eyes.
And smiled. I would never give this up. Rayne Hunter was mine.