9. Her hatred

WARNING!! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SENSITIVE CONTENTS THAT MAY OR MAY NOT BE ACCEPTABLE TO ALL!

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As the reality of what was about to happen to her dawned on her, Esme sobbed. She couldn't fight him even if she wanted to, and even if she could, her body was too weak for that now, and he knew that all too well.

“Let me go…” she said, but her voice was barely above a whisper and lacked the power in it to stop him.

“You should learn to be more obedient, Esme,” he said, ignoring her pleas as he added more strength to his hand and pried her legs apart. “You are meant to be mine sooner or later. There is no difference seeing you now or seeing you later.” Dawson continued, and more tears streamed down Esme's eyes.

Esme didn't know which hurt more. Was it the physical wounds on her body or the torment she was facing at the moment? All she knew was that the pain was unbearable. The humiliation was too much for her t9 maintain her composure, and she cried. Pleaded even, but he only smiled, pleased with what he was doing to her.

With her legs spread, he positioned him between them. His hand stroked her waist as he took in the view before him. He was right after all. She was a beauty without her clothes on. Her soft body and tender skin were something many women wished they had but failed to, but she had it so easily. Though skinny, her curves were prominent. Her breasts, not small or big, just about the right size, for him to palm and squeeze. Just as he likes it.

“Dawson, please,” she pleaded with him, her weak voice would have tugged on the heart of any sane man, but Dawson proved to be no sane man.

“You are begging for me already, so soon? Huh? Esme?” He drawled just beside her ear, and she shivered out of repulsion.

The moment his hand went between her legs, the sudden urge to throw up overwhelmed her but her throat was dry, her stomach empty, having had nothing to eat for a while now and all she ended up doing was choking on her own saliva.

Dawson smirked, seeing how miserable she was. Despite his protective instincts kicking in earlier when he saw her wounded body thanks to his wolf taking an interest in her, he still couldn't help her seeing her like this. At his mercy, helpless and powerless.

He gently stroked her, his thumb pressed on her clit and she whimpered. “You are beautiful, Esme. Do you know that?” He pressed a little harder with his thumbs and she shuddered. “Gods, I really want to f*ck you right now,” he uttered, his voice strained for some reason Esme couldn’t care to understand as she tried to wriggle herself from underneath him but he had her pinned. “I woupd love to watch as your breasts rise and fall as I thrust into you,” he then started rubbing his middle finger against her folds. Parted her Nether lips, feelings it's softness and warmth on his fingers and something seem to snapped inside of him.

“You are getting wet, Esme,” he said to her as if she wasn't humiliated enough. It wasn't her fault that her body was still responding to his touch. Everything was all foreign to her. No one had ever exploited that part of her before and she had no ifea of how to ontrol it. “You want me too, right?”

“No…” Esme replied without hesitation. She attempted an escape once more but he let out a low guttural growl that caused her to freeze momentarily before she ignored it and started pulling her body up but that was when he slid a finger inside and she stilled, hissing at the pain caused by the sudden intrussion.

“Now, be a good girl and stay still for me, will you?” As he spoke, Esme silently cried. She had lost all the energy inside of her. If she ever had the chance to kill anyone, Dawson would be the first to die. If she was to ever be given such power one day, she wouldn't hesitate to kill him. That was how much she acted this man.

As he pulled his finger out of her, a knock on the door stilled him, and his growled, but the door opened anyway. His eyes glazed over, as his beast came to the surface, furious at the intruder for disturbing and ruining the moment but stilled and his anger simmered the moment he saw Alpha Dane standing by the now closed door, his hands crossed and his brows raised.

“Father,” he quickly got off, Esme but not entirely. He sat between her legs, making it impossible for her to close her legs and protect herself.

“What are you doing, Dawson?” Alpha Dane asked. His tone was neutral, as if he had asked that out of curiosity rather than in reprimand towards his son.

“Well, Father…” Dawson scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward. He wasn't sorry, but it was not like he wanted his father to watch him f*ck a girl.

“The Alpha King will be here by tomorrow. We need to prepare to receive him. Do this… whatever you were doing after he leaves, and she gets better,” Danes said. The way he said it pierced sharply through Esme's heart.

He didn't care whether his son rapped her or not. He was not even against it. He could do it to her, but after their guest was gone? Esme wanted to laugh at 5 she didn't have the energy for that. Her naked frame was no longer a bother to her. She had lost her pride. Why struggle now?

“Why is he coming here?” Dawson asked, a deep furrow formed between his brows, obviously irritated by the news.

“The king does not need a reason to go anywhere. This is his kingdom,” Alpha Dane replied. “Now, get up and go join in making the preparations. You will join me in receiving him tomorrow.”

Dawson grumbled a few incoherent words, but he stood up and stormed out of Esme's room. Dane then stared at Esme's naked form. His gaze lingered longer than it should, but he took note of the reopened wounds that were once again bleeding.

“Can you walk?” he asked. Esme didn't reply, and he glared at her but didn't force her to do anything. “I'll have your friend come back here to dress your wounds,” he said before walking away too, leaving Esme and her broken self to break even further now that she was alone.