003 How To Tame A Pet

If what I'm wearing now is slutty, then what her Alpha originally had in mind can only be described as disgusting. 

But obviously this is too much for her already. She is always in a tidy shirt with tight skirts, her hair always combed nicely into a bon behind her head, flat and dull, even now. Only this is the moment I suddenly realized --

She's mimicking Alpha Damon's neat style! To get his attention, I presume?

An awkward attempt though. 

His style shouts restrain, but that brings up the wildness in his eyes even more, giving off a dangerous feeling of a fragile piece of clothing barely containing a fearful beast. 

However, doesn't have the dominating power behind his soulful eyes, her prude style only comes off as dull and boring.

Now I can have some fun.

"I'm sure to Alpha Damon, hot is defined as a tight hair bun." I curve my lips and Lola hisses at me. But she wouldn't cross the line, not with her dear Alpha next to her.

"But how do you know he doesn't prefer slutty over hot though?" I continue, sitting down on his other side before landing my chin on his bicep lightly to let him feel my throat vibrating when I talk.

He can't resist that. I know his body too well. 

After all, the most time we spent together in the past three months was all in bed. He might hate me, but his body wants mine. His body needs mine. We both know that.

Maybe that's why he hates me -- to think that he, the almighty Alpha, doesn't have full control in front of a mere omega. 

That must burn him badly.

Surely enough, the moment I let my jaw rub against the tender side of his bicep "by accident", his muscles tense up like a mimosa. His arm twitches slightly as if he wants to flee.

In his dream.

I shrug to catch his arm in my neck, I turn my throat to his arm and swallow before I lean to him a little and let my lips open, just the slightest so I can breathe his favorite lipstick into his face. He always gets hard hearing me breathing through my lips.

His chest heaving, his throat rolling, and he narrows his eyes dangerously at me, glaring as a warning.

I would have been scared. In fact, I still am. The man can be intimidating when he wants to. Not to mention I have no chance of resisting his Alpha aura. No wolf can, and I don't even have a wolf.

But I didn't flinch. I stare back at him, pinching my palms to force my body to take the fear. I no longer care if I would anger him. He hates me as it is. He enslaved me, he raped me, he kept me prisoned, and now he humiliates me just because I'm not the tamest pet like how he wants me to be.

How can it possibly get worse? I don't have anything else to lose.

Smelling his arousal, a burnt growl escapes Lola as she glares over, her eyes turning red.

My smirk only lasts a second after that. Apparently, God forbids if she gets upset. Or, HE forbids.

"Getting fierce, aren't we? If you want me to take you right here, all you need to do is ask." Alpha Damon smirks coldly, suddenly picking me up by my waist and throwing me onto his lap before he grabs my breast with his huge hand and kneads hard.

I gasp in shock, barely holding back the escaping groan: "Let go! It hurts!"

"Does it?" Alpha Damon tilts his head to search for my eyes as if he really cares, "I thought you wanted this, little thing?"

I wiggle under his iron arms, but the more I struggle the harder he kneads my breast. His smirk widens yet his eyes get colder. In the end I have to give in. I have to bear the pain in my chest as I rub my nose tip under his chin to please him. To let him know that I submit.

He snorts and lets go.

My face burning in shame as I hide it in his chest, nearly in tears.

The pain doesn't hurt as much as the humiliation.

I hate to be forced to submit, so much! But what hurt me was the realization that he didn't care about me at all. Pain is just a tool to teach me a lesson, like I am some pet throwing a tantrum. For another woman no less. 

Just because I taunted back the humiliation she threw at me first.

When I was little my father did the same to me. Whenever I disobey, he would starve me until I submit. Every time I bear it to the last minute. I guess I'm just born stubborn. I failed every time, too. Because no matter how long I starve, no matter how painful it becomes, my father would never budge. So I have to. Every time I dragged my powerless body to him, to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, and every time in those moments I realized more clearly than ever--

He doesn't care about my pain at all. If he cared even a little he wouldn't use such a cruel tool on me just to teach me a lesson.

How pathetic of me, to think that even to a pet, this heartless man might have grown some sort of feelings after three months.

There isn't any.

He is still the same heartless man who didn't even care to answer when I told him about my pack's tragedy.

I should have known. What I don’t know is why he wouldn’t just get rid of me.