The Alpha’s Fated Outcast: Rise Of The Moonsinger

Chapter 390

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,

slowly advancing towards them. They were a strange breed of dogs I’d ever seen, probably the

that glowed red in the streetlight. Their lips pulled

too scared and hurt to run. All I could do was watch in horrified fascination as the creatures circled

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

tearing them apart. somehow, I enjoyed watching it, just like how I loved what they did to

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

he started

wouldn’t go far in my state. I watched as the man reached me, then came to stand in front of me. His eyes took in the length of my body, eyes flaring

Then he smiled.

be afraid,

***

Present Day

rental car, pausing to take in the sun blazing hot

the crime scene with practised horror (I’d spent about an hour practising the expression in my bathroom mirror until

the scene, my boots crunching over broken glass and torn fabric. The street smelled like burned meat, and I could see fear emanating from the bodies of

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

the line, flashing my

clearance to come to scenes like this," I explained to the young police officer, who nodded and

at

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

head to hide the smile when I saw one of the police

my eyes for a brief second and taking in a

park clearing, torn apart with the same systematic brutality that

my handiwork made my stomach lurch, not from disgust, but from excitement. Each kill brought me closer to my goal, closer to drawing the supernatural world

my hand to my mouth and stumbling backwards. "This

face. "Ma’am, are you alright? You shouldn’t be this close to

"These killings are getting completely out of hand. How many more innocent people have to die

Pier, a historian researching local folklore and urban

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