Lahat ng Kabanata ng His Purchased Omega : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Julian slumps against the desk, chest heaving, legs trembling violently, sweat coating his skin. Enzo's knot has just gone down after the second brutal round, leaving him raw, leaking cum, and completely exhausted. Why does the damn Alpha even have to knot him every fucking time?! His thighs shake as he tries to stand straight. The office smells like sex, sweat, Enzo's dominant pheromones, and his light, hardly perceivable ones. He meets Enzo's silver eyes, pleadingly. "I… I can't take anymore like that," Julian pants, voice hoarse. "Please..." Enzo is still smirking, though he's breathing hard too, watching Julian with barely restrained hunger. His cock coated in Julian's slick is already hardening again, as if he didn't just release. "Five million left." He says breathlessly. Horny bastard. Julian swallows his pride. Fine, if Enzo won't let him rest, maybe he could try another way? "Then let me ride you. I'll do it… just go slower." A slow, amused smirk sprea

The underground auction hall beneath the Golden Palm Hotel is alive with dark luxury, where the most powerful Alphas in Los Angeles gathers. The invitation had come for Enzo days prior, and although he wasn't particularly interested in any of these Omegas for now, he still had to come. This has been his turf for years now. The Alpha known to always purchase several Omegas to assist with his unstable rut sessions-- not coming suddenly would only attract unwanted attention. So Enzo Moretti showed up dressed in a carefully tailored three piece suit, his dark hair gelled back, attractive face sharp with unrestrained irritate. The moment he steps in, he wrinkles how nose at the scent of aged whiskey, expensive cologne, and anxious Omega pheromones clinging thickly in the air. The auction organized by moonhound, only coveted Omegas on the West Coast. Many have been trained for years to be professional sex workers--Omegas with good smells and blood. Some were taken as collatera

Julian steps out of the black car on shaky legs, the cool night air biting against his skin. His body still throbs from Enzo's fingers in the car, his thighs sticky, his mind a mess at the realization that Enzo is done playing games with him. He doesn't look at the older man as they walk into the mansion. He just wants a shower, silence and a night to himself. Hopefully. But the moment they enter the main living area on the private floor, Julian stops dead. A stranger is sitting on the long sofa near the windows, legs gracefully crossed, wearing a soft cream sweater and tailored black pants that look brand new. The Omega is very beautiful --lean, almost feminine, with soft brown curls and wide hazel eyes. Bruises fade along his collarbone and wrists, but he holds himself with surprising poise. Enzo still wouldn't look at Julian, he just brushes past him. Julian has no choice but to follow quietly behind him. "This is Eli," Rico whispers from behind him, voice laced with...

There's blood still drying on Enzo's knuckles, silver eyes locked on the lifeless frame. The traitor's body slumps lifeless in the chair, head lolled at an unnatural angle, fingers scattered on the concrete floor like broken toys. The metallic scent of blood hangs thick in the air. Enzo doesn't feel an ounce of guilt, his fingers flexing with the urge to keep torturing him even in death. He hated traitors, they reminded him of a past he'd rather not remember. Marco and Rico are already besides him, waiting for orders. Enzo's jaw is tight in anger. He'd spent hours torturing the man and he still refused to fucking break. "Get rid of it." He orders them. "And clean all this mess up." He doesn't need to tell them what to do. They were his most efficient men for a reason-- they knew perfectly well how to properly dispose of a body. Rico-- the one with the highest blood lust between the two grins, fingers twitching in excitement as he pulls a pair of latex gloves over his h

Enzo marches through the abandoned shipyard, boots crunching over broken glass and rusted metal. The night air is cold and damp off the river, carrying the faint smell of salt and decay. The location pin from Kane had led them directly here– a perfect trap if he had walked in blind. But Enzo is done playing games. He hadn't even confronted him about approaching Julian when he heard. He had wanted to see how far Kane was willing to go-- and now he'd seen it, Enzo decided his time is up. His men already surround the entire parameter, guns drawn, blending silently behind the decaying cargo containers. He only comes out with Marco and Rico visible behind him, guns drawn. Kane waits in the center of an open clearing, surrounded by twenty armed men. He grins when he sees Enzo, a cigarette in hand, looking far too relaxed for a man who just declared war. "Moretti," Kane starts first, sitting up. "I thought we were friends. But after last night..." he clicks his tongue. "...you