The Alpha’s Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger

Chapter 390: The girl who called the darkness II

Delia

Someone starts to knead my breasts, pinching my nipples and causing me to arch my back in pleasure. At this point, I could barely hear a word of what they were saying. The sensations were overwhelming, and I could feel my body gearing up to a heightened sense of pleasure.

As I continue to service the man in my mouth, I feel a hot jet of something splash against the back of my throat. I tried to remove my mouth, but Steve pinned my face to his, groaning out and moving his hips erratically.

Jordan and Tommy took turns pounding into me from behind and in front, their sweaty bodies grinding against mine. My cries of pleasure mingle with their grunts and gasps, creating a symphony of lust that echoes off the walls of the alleyway.

As they continue to use me, my muscles clench around them, milking whoever was inside me for all they’re worth.

I felt my woman’s core clutch suddenly, and I let go of the person inside my mouth, throwing my head backwards as I groaned in pleasure. Waves of pleasure washed over me, while I thrust my hips into the person behind me.

I could feel them shooting something warm inside of me. My body vibrated as I rocked them one last time.

Finally, the four of us collapsed to the ground, exhausted.

After a few minutes, I lay on the cold ground, watching as the boys rose to their feet, adjusted their clothing, and all of them had proud smiles on their faces.

"You liked it, freak, didn’t you?" Steve sneered and reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled $50 bill, which he threw at me. "Since you enjoyed it too, I think this is fair enough."

Tommy leaned down to squeeze my breasts one last time before they turned and started moving away, laughing.

Now that the initial pleasure had died down, everything hurt. The humiliation stung worse than the physical pain I felt.

This was my life, working myself to death just to be treated like garbage by people who threw away more money than I made in a week.

I managed to pick myself up, realising now that I was bleeding. Just as I managed to zip up my gown, I heard a loud shriek that pierced through the night.

I wobbled to the entrance of the alley, staring in the direction of where I’d heard the noise. To my surprise, I saw Tommy, Steve and Jordan running back toward me, their faces were filled with terror.

Then they stopped a few feet away from the alley and started cowering and screaming like children. One of them—Jordan—actually wet himself.

I looked past them,

them. They were a strange breed of dogs I’d ever seen,

jet black with eyes that glowed red in the streetlight. Their lips pulled

could do was watch in horrified fascination as the creatures

dogs leapt on the boys in a coordinated attack, cutting off their annoying screaming and shouting. I pressed myself against the alley, staring as the dogs tore

it, just

first, but who had been leaning in the shadows, pushed himself

he started coming

with terror, but I couldn’t run. I wouldn’t go far in my state. I watched as the man reached me, then came to

Then he smiled.

afraid, Delia. It’s

***

Present Day

from my rental car, pausing to take in the sun blazing hot

an hour practising the expression in my bathroom mirror until I perfected it), letting my face contort into an expression of

broken glass and torn fabric. The street smelled like burned meat, and I

passed a new van; actually, several news vans had lined the block, but none dared cross

walked past the line, flashing

this," I explained to the young

than most women in Whispering Pine. Standing at 6 ft

was sexy as hell, and when I am not almost half naked, I do my best to wear clothes which flatter my lithe frame. Like now, I was draped

when I saw one of the police men openly

to myself, closing my eyes for

apart with the same systematic brutality that had become my calling

me closer to my goal, closer to drawing the supernatural world into the open where I

my hand to my mouth and

across his face. "Ma’am, are you alright? You shouldn’t be

not alright," I said. "These killings are getting completely out of hand. How many more innocent people have to die

establishing myself as Dr. Delia Pier, a historian researching local folklore and urban legends. I’d published works on Werewolves, Lycans, Vampires,