tagNonConsent/ReluctancePoison Ivy Ch. 04

Poison Ivy Ch. 04


You guys are so awesome. Thank you so much for all the feedback and emails, it's still kind of shocking to know that there are people out there who enjoy reading the stuff I love to write. I'm appreciative of it every time!

I noticed a few comments about how sex-less of a story this is and wanted to address it up front. Correct. This is a story that has more non-sex scenes then sex-scenes, so if that's not your thing, I'm totally cool with that and please move on. I'm actively working on trying to find a right balance of smut and plot-line, so if anyone has any advice on how to make that happen, let's talk.

And if you're just picking up here and haven't read any of the previous chapters, a few warnings. This is an Omegaverse story, so if you're unfamiliar with Alpha/Omega stories, you might want to do a quick google search so you kind of know the basics. Also, it's a military story, and I unapologetically have the mind and the mouth of a sailor and it comes out in spades here. If cursing offends you, please stop reading here.

Thanks again! Especially recently, I've been overwhelmed with all the support and encouragement. I haven't figured out a way to respond to emails, but I'm getting them and love every one, so thank you! Enjoy!


"What the fuck was that, Eli?"

The blonde Alpha dressed in dark Torrin fatigues shrugged through the video conference screen, the scar running a diagonal line across his thin lips becoming jagged as he lifted a corner of his mouth in a smirk.

"You wouldn't accept my offer. I was poised to make a fuck ton of money on my cut of the profits from surrendering use of the port. I'm not willing to wait while you stuff your own pockets. It's time to move on, Nelson."

General Nelson's jowls trembled as he shook his head in disbelief, pacing the length of the dark office with a hand buried in his greying hair. "Do you realize what could have happened if they had been successful? You think you're losing a lot of men now? Imagine the shit that would have rained down on you if they had revealed her. He wouldn't have stopped until every last one of you Torrin shits were buried! You play a dangerous game, Eli."

A low growl emanated from the speaker at the corner of the screen. "I will not be threatened by you, old man. I'm not interested in the girl or her father. Not one of those kids had a fucking clue who she was, anyway. As far as any of them were aware, she was a Lieutenant General's newly pair-bonded Omega, a girl they could use to get a simple ransom. Something to raise the hackles on the fearless Lostra warriors." The larger-than-life image sneered. "Perhaps the General who takes your place will consider my offer more seriously." Eli straightened, and all traces of humor were wiped from his face. "I'll see you in hell, Nelson."

"This isn't over!" the aging Alpha roared into the now-blank screen. He spun around, resuming his pacing as he mumbled quietly to himself. Silently, Hunter slipped out from the shadows in the corner of the room. "Traitor," he growled, startling the General who looked, to Hunter's utter disgust, about ready to piss himself.

"Hunter," Nelson breathed, a look of relief passing briefly over his face before he peered more closely at the approaching Alpha's molten silver eyes. Hunter raised the matte black .40 pistol, his personal favorite, up to the old man's greying temple.

"I would have killed you quickly for betraying your country. How many good men have lost their lives because of you? How long have you been colluding with the enemy, you fuck?" Hunter gritted his teeth at the wild look of fear in the General's eyes. Weak. The man was weak. And if there was one thing Hunter would not fucking tolerate, it was weakness.

"Now, though, you've put Ivy in danger. For that, you'll die slowly." He pulled the hammer back, smiling at the satisfying, familiar click as his thumb swept over the safety. "Hunter, please," the old man begged, even lifting his hands in supplication. Fucking coward. Hunter flicked the barrel of the gun downward and pulled the trigger, watching with grim determination as Nelson's right knee exploded. The high-pitched scream echoed and bounced off the mahogany walls of the videoconference office. "Shut up!" he barked, pulling at the trigger again and again, until Nelson's left leg hung together at the knee by a single bloody strip of flesh. He stalked slowly toward the man splayed out across the smooth wooden floor, whimpering like a wounded animal.

"Last words, Nelson?" he forced between gritted teeth.

"You don't get it, do you?" Shrill laughter escaped the General's lips. "This is so much bigger than me. Bigger than us all." He shook his head. "They'll kill you. Make waves, and they'll torture the girl in front of you before they put a bullet between your eyes. You think it matters who her father is? He'll kill her himself! These men are ruthless, Hunter." He groaned as he clutched his thigh above what was left of the bloodied flesh. "Do you even know who she is?"

"I know," Hunter snapped, quickly losing patience. "It changes nothing. No one will ever touch her."

The fool sneered and began to say something else, but Hunter had had enough. With pinpoint precision, he let off three rounds. Two to the gut, one to the lower lobe of the left lung. He missed all vital organs, but Nelson would suffer excruciating, visceral pain while he slowly drowned in his own blood. He surveyed his work, allowing himself a small, grim smile of satisfaction. He didn't necessarily enjoy killing. But when it had to be done, he did it the right fucking way.

Without looking back, he stalked to the door, ignoring the cries and pleas of the ruined man behind him. He crossed the threshold of the metal frame and looked at the two Alpha guards flanking the entrance.

"No one goes in or out. He dies alone. Tell me when it's done."

They both nodded, their eyes never leaving the wall directly in front of him. Until the army could send a replacement for the commanding officer, Hunter was the highest-ranking soldier in Torrin, and his orders would be carried out without question. He considered Nelson's dying words as he strode down the hallway of the administrative building toward his office. If corruption ran as deep, and as high up, as the man claimed, it complicated things. He no longer had just himself to think about. He would have to tread carefully.

Two things he knew for sure. First, Ivy could never find out who she really was.

Second, he would hunt down and slaughter every single fucking one of them who would dare lay a finger on his Omega.


"You're not eating."

Ivy glanced up at the giant sitting across from her, then back down at the decadent tray of comfort food sitting on the oversized dark oak table in front of her. Somehow, the man was slowly breaking down her every defense, learning all of her likes and dislikes, and using them against her. Pea-mush macaroni and cheese, roast chicken sprinkled with fresh lime juice, and fanned avocado, just because she really fucking liked avocado, made up the dinner tray she had received that night. It looked and smelled incredible, but none of it was particularly tempting. She shrugged. "I guess I'm not hungry."

The giant snorted. "You've been not hungry for several meals now. If you are attempting a hunger strike, it will not work. I will hold you down and force feed you myself if I have to. Now eat." He pushed the tray closer to her.

Ivy glared at him, but picked up her fork and, to appease the jerk, speared a piece of chicken. She knew when to pick her battles, and this wasn't a hunger strike. She truly just didn't feel like eating.

It had been five days since the attack on the base. Five days since Kentucky had ripped her heart out and paid the ultimate price for his foolishness. Five days locked inside her gilded cage, waiting for the Alpha who had swept in to destroy her life to come break up the monotony of her days. She greeted him with scowls and snarls. She would never admit to him, to herself, that a terrible sense of relief always flooded her when the locks turned, and his towering frame shadowed her doorway.

The Beta medic had been in often, checking the injury on her shoulder and the various cuts and bruises she had earned during her short stay here. A nameless Beta soldier had also come in to bring her meals, taking away untouched trays and emptying her garbage as he did so. Neither of them would speak a word to her, despite her attempts at conversation. Her keeper, one of the largest Alphas she had ever seen, a man who would have terrified her just a few short weeks ago, was the only one who would deign speak to her.

It wasn't just the lack of human contact though, or the boredom, or how his presence gave her a reprieve from the way her thoughts worried over recent events. When he stepped through the door, her hand would subconsciously fly to the place directly below her sternum where the fresh pair-bond, even now, was slicing its way through her. It had hooked itself behind her ribs, and when it recognized the pair's close proximity, it would hum pleasantly. It was ludicrous and infuriating to think of how easily the link manipulated her feelings toward the hulking mass of muscle now staring her down as the forkful of meat hung suspended halfway between her frowning lips and the expensive, gold-rimmed china plate it had come from. She looked down at her plate, considering.

"I don't understand how you can justify feeding yourselves like Kings," she mumbled. "Beta grunts fighting the real war eat gruel from a communal 20-gallon pot. We're lucky to get a scoop of burnt white rice with it." She looked up. "Yet you officers act like this is a place for fine-dining, insisting on dinnerware that would pay for medical supplies for ten goddamned years."

He regarded her silently.

"What did you do with the bodies?" she asked, ultimately giving up on the bite of chicken and letting her fork fall back to her plate. She winced at the sound it made. When she looked up, his face was carved of granite, giving absolutely nothing away. She had seen this face before, any time she had asked about the day of the attack and what had happened afterward. She clenched her jaw and pushed herself away from the table. "Fine," she hissed. "Fuck you too then."

He was towering over her before she had time to process the fact that he had moved. Ivy was quick, always had been, since her mischievous days as a wily youth. But fuck if she didn't have anything on the Alpha now caging her in with his hands placed palm down on the polished oak table on either side of her. She yelped as his massive paw of a hand slid behind her and violently pushed the tray clattering to the floor, the priceless China plates shattering on impact. He forced his knee between her legs and lifted until she was sitting on the smooth surface.

"What the fuck do you -"

"Shut up," he growled, pressing a hand to the place above her heart and lowering her until her back hit the table. He hooked his hands behind her knees and tugged her toward him, pushing the hem of the simple, yet shamelessly expensive dress up to her hips. He lowered himself until she felt his breath against her sex.

She started to push herself up but was stopped when his hand shot out and his palm pressed into her stomach. She looked down at it, pissed as fuck that his thick fingers stretched to nearly cover the width of her waist. His thumb hooked around the lacy strap of her panties and pulled until it tore. She snarled at the ceiling, not wanting to look at the man between her knees. He wouldn't have been able to do that if she had been allowed to keep the comfortable boy short style underwear she had worn back when she had just been a simple Beta medic.

At least, not quite as fucking easily, she thought grumpily.

Her breath hitched when he swept his tongue up her slit and circled the sensitive bundle of nerves she was ashamed to admit he had become an expert at extracting mind-blowing pleasure from. Her fingers curled into fists when slick pooled between her legs in response to his low growl, the vibrations pulsing against her core. She felt two giant fingers push past her entrance and squeezed her eyes shut as her inner muscles clenched around him. She hated that he knew how to play her body so well, that he was capable of drawing out such embarrassing sounds from between her lips.

His tongue circled her clit as he fucked her with his fingers. She would never get used to how full he made her feel, how even his (admittedly giant-sized) fingers stretched her nearly to the point of pain. Maximum capacity. If not for the appropriately disgustingly named slick that coated her entrance whenever he made that low, animalistic growl, she wouldn't be able to take him.

"I know... what you're trying to do," she groaned, gasping when she felt his thumb press against the yet un-broached entrance to no-mans-land. She clenched her buttocks together and wriggled her hips, trying to force the offending appendage away from the hole she had no intention of sharing with the arrogant ass hole pushing her oh-so-close to the edge. He pulled away, and she heard the sound of a buckle and zipper coming undone. She chanced a glance down, dragging her eyes back up to the frescoed ceiling at the sight of him fisting his obscenely large cock and dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. Everything about this man, everything about this life, was way too fucking big.

She groaned when she felt him drag the head through her wetness, coating his length with more slick when he let out another low growl. "What am I trying to do, little Poison?" he asked, letting out a low groan of his own as he buried himself inside of her in a single, powerful thrust. Given her... difficult attitude... he had taken to referring to her as Poison more and more, with the added little seemingly just to piss her the fuck off. She was almost proud of the nickname she had earned at her old battalion. Poison Ivy, because she was an itch in the ass that just wouldn't go away.

He pulled back, almost all of the way out of her, and she grunted as he thrust back in. Over and over, the movement pushing the air from her lungs. Even if she could have remembered what it was she was going to say, she wouldn't have been able to form the words. As her own climax neared, a tidal wave of sensation reaching its crest, she felt his knot beginning to form. Her arms spread across the table as she gripped the edge, her back lifting off the smooth surface as the wave crested and crashed. The intensity of it burned her skin like fire. Stars swam before her eyes as it blinded and deafened her to everything except for the roar he released as he stilled and washed her core with his seed, his knot stretching her insides and locking them together.

Her awareness came back slowly, little electric impulses dancing across her skin bringing her attention to the sweat moistening her brow and the Alpha lifting her off the table and carrying her to the leather chair where this whole sordid affair began. She squirmed in his arms when he started purring, her mind grasping desperately at the last of her sanity before she dropped into the mind-numbing oblivion that usually came after sex, when arms rippling with hard muscles wrapped around her and pressed her into a sound she was biologically designed to be comforted by.

"You can't keep fucking me every time I have questions," she told him, her words laced with contempt. "I'm not a child, I'm not an..." she drifted off, frowning. Omega. She was about to say she wasn't an Omega. But that's what she was, wasn't it? He was treating her the way the rest of the world treated Omegas, like glorified fuck-dolls needing the protection of their Alphas against the outside world.

Her eyelids drooped as she tried to focus. His fingers trilled over the crescent marks he had left when his mouth had clamped down painfully during her first estrous. His claiming marks. His touch was light, gentle even, and through the pair-bond, she felt his pride and tranquility at having made such a successful conquest of her. She knew how this would play out. He would hold her here, cradling her head against the rough fabric of his uniform, locking her to him with the bulge hooked behind her pelvic bone, until she fell asleep. Then she would wake, maybe to the sound of one of her two silent Beta visitors stepping into her room, or maybe to the sound of explosions booming from outside, or maybe from one of the many recurring nightmares that plagued her sleep, although she could never remember exactly what they were about. The Alpha would be gone, she would find herself washed and stripped naked between silken sheets, and she would have wasted another chance to pry information from his stupidly gorgeous, full lips.

"You are being difficult." His tone was gruff, accusatory.

"And you're being fucking impossible," she growled back. "Why did you even want me?"

He was silent for a moment. "Explain." It was an order, and it bothered her to no end that he thought he could give her fucking commands, but at least he had stopped purring and was actually talking to her.

"I mean, it's obvious you don't want anything to do with me besides sex. You don't talk to me, you fuck me and then leave as soon as you put me to sleep, you keep me trapped in this room like I'm your prisoner but I can't even have the satisfaction of plotting to kill you because this stupid fucking pair-bond you forced on me gives me a fucking migraine every time I consider it. You don't seem to give two shits about the fact that I just lost my best friend in the worst way possible and have no way of confronting the man responsible for ruining his mind. It's like I'm just a sperm receptacle to you. Aren't there plenty of beautiful women who would love to climb up your Alpha dick? Even if you thought you recognized some weird matching scent on me, why wouldn't you wait to claim me to find out whether or not you even liked me?"

Her ears rung with the quiet that fell over them after she finished talking. His chest heaved and the hand cradling her head pressed her into his chest almost too hard. She realized she had crossed some kind of line, but she didn't care. Every word needed to be said.

"This is what you think? You truly feel I have no interest in you outside of sex?"

She nodded against his chest, moving her head as much as he allowed, which wasn't really much. It would have infuriated her when she had first been taken by the brute, but she was well used to the physical dominance he continually found opportunities to display over her. She thought he was going to say something further, but the familiar wall of silence fell between them once again, interrupted shortly after by the resumption of his purr. Just as she felt herself nodding off, he spoke again.

"Another Omega is scheduled to arrive within the week. I have arranged for her to have the adjoining room. You will have her company during the hours I am away."

She rolled her eyes. "Great," she sighed. "A new, handpicked friend. How thoughtful."

"She is pregnant."

Ivy paused. "What did you just say?" Did he really just say pregnant? Why would they be sending a pregnant Omega into a hostile country? Omega children were sacred, on par with new, baby deities. Something had shifted, changed in the last decade. No one knew why, but Beta women had become unable to mother Omegas, even when mated to an Alpha. Omegas almost always bred more Omegas, and not every female was even able to become pregnant. With the dwindling numbers of the rarest Dynamic, Omega children, and by proxy, pregnant Omegas, had the protection of nearly every Alpha male in Lostra. The girl would be treated like a fragile, porcelain doll.

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