Laken’s longing (Divergent Omegaverse #7)

Prologue

Laken

Kneeling on the dirty ground, the bitter cold of the whistling wind numbed Laken’s exposed skin..

The thirty bucks the dirtbag was giving him to suck his cock would feed him for a few days.

He kept that thought at the forefront of his mind as the unmistakable sound of his zipper dragging down hammered home what was about to happen.

He was almost relieved when he realized the cock the guy flopped out was nothing to write about.

Maybe even small enough that it wouldn’t choke him or set off his gag reflex.

It didn’t matter how many times he’d done this, he couldn’t stop the awful gagging if the dick hit the back of his throat.

Folks lied, practice didn’t make perfect.

Fortunately—and he did count it as a win—this one didn’t smell awful. Having not eaten in three days, desperate times called for desperate measures. Hunger had once more led him to turning tricks on the streets to get money. Two years and nothing changed. Same shit, different level.

“You gonna suck it or just look at it?” The gruff voice pulled him from his perusal, and he opened his mouth, doing his best not to touch the dude.

He’d done that once, and he’d worn the bruises for weeks, making it hard to score.

Some douchebags had standards and didn’t want a boy wearing bruising and swollen eyes to suck them off. Who the fuck knew?

He supposed they didn’t want damaged goods.

Seemed an odd boundary, given they were fully aware he was a minor and not legal.

Divergent teenagers kicked out and left to fend for themselves cluttered the streets and were easy pickings for scumbags like this dude, who could probably scent his desperation.

Laken was bigger than some, and had thus far avoided the pimps hustling the streets at night looking for targets.

He was alone, and he liked it that way. He didn’t want to make friends and see them turn their backs on him when he needed them most. He’d been there and done that.

It wasn’t worth the effort. He’d learned the hard way to trust no one.

Lost in his thoughts and driven by hunger, Laken’s senses didn’t kick in fast enough to hear the person approaching from behind until it was too late.

His face was violently slammed onto the cock causing him to gag.

The guy groaned above him and his hands gripped painfully on Laken’s scruffy hair, dragging him impossibly close.

He choked and fought to breathe as his nose pressed into the thick fabric of the dude's sweater, his saliva dripping down his chin.

He brought his hands up to push away as he struggled, panic clawing at the need to escape as the dick rammed further down his throat, making the bile in his stomach rise and burn his throat.

“Jim, hurry the fuck up so I can have my shot at that delightful piece of divergent ass before we take him to Keith’s place,” the second stranger urged.

Dread warred with pain as Laken increased his struggles to get free, but the guy behind him was using his body weight to pin him in place.

A thick, hard cock pressed against the back of his head, giving Laken a clue to the guy's size.

Big, but not too big to fight. Only there were two of them, and he lacked any actual strength due to the lack of a decent meal in weeks.

They were shifters too, he could scent them.

Fight. Fight now, his animal side growled at him.

Survival instincts kicked in, and his teeth automatically clamped down on the cock in his mouth as the only defense weapon he had.

“Motherfucker,” the guy screamed in agony, his painful grip tugging back this time, rather than forcing forward, desperate to drag his teeth off. However, the dude behind didn’t seem to be getting the picture, still rubbing himself off on Laken’s head.

The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, and though his stomach rebelled, he swallowed back the bile trying to vomit all over the dude’s dick. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness now, or his virgin ass would suffer.

“Keep it fucking down, we don’t want someone calling the cops.”

“Get him the fuck off me! The shithead is biting my cock,” screechy Jim gasped.

Serves you fucking right if I bite it off.

Saliva and blood dripped out the corners of Laken’s mouth as he got enough room to breathe.

He barely had the chance to draw breath when a fist hit the side of his temple with such force, stars exploded behind his left eye.

His eye bulged in the socket as a stickiness slid down his cheek before the fist hit against his jaw, forcing him to release or find his teeth knocked down his throat.

“We aren’t supposed to damage the merchandise,” Jim gasped.

The bleeding cock slapped Laken’s face as he rocked back on his knees, nearly toppling onto the dirty ground.

A booted foot caught him in the midsection before he took another hit to the side of his head.

Lights danced behind his eyelids as he fought to stay conscious.

Pain, white and searing, stole his breath at the next boot to his side, which was accompanied by the sound of a bone crunching. His lungs burned with the need for oxygen.

“Enough,” a deep voice ground out menacingly. “Inject him with the stuff and take him to the van. We’ll have to hide these fucking marks if we wanna make a profit.”

A sting to his throat and the world became a cloud of comfort, the pain cushioned in such a way Laken’s brain ceased to be under his control.

He shivered, an icy chill coating his skin.

He sensed, more than felt, as the drug dragged him into a place that made him vulnerable.

Made death a better option. His limbs disobeyed him as they flopped uselessly at his sides as he was lifted.

The scream he released was all in his head before he slipped into oblivion.