~Lyra~
I never intended to fuck my best friend’s Alpha dad. But I’d be a damn liar if I said I hadn’t fantasized about it. Dreamed about it. Tasted it behind my closed eyelids with my legs spread and my fingers dripping between my thighs. Yeah. I know how that sounds. I’m not sorry. Because every girl has a first crush. Mine just happened to be a man who could kill with his bare hands, command an army of wolves, and make my thighs tremble just by walking into a room. Damon Thornvale. Alpha. Billionaire. Beast in human skin. And the man who made me cum for the first time without ever touching me. I used to touch myself to the sound of his footsteps. The deep rumble of his voice. The way he said my name..Lyra..like he owned it. Like he owned me. And maybe he did. I was a bit younger the first time I came thinking about him. I can’t remember what age but I know I was fully aware of how I felt. Locked in Tasha’s bathroom with the lights off, panties pulled to the side, my back arched and my face buried in a towel so no one could hear me moan. I’d seen him shirtless that day. Just once. A glimpse in the hallway. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his chest rose when he breathed. The cut of his hips. The way he’d looked at me..like he knew. Like he knew I was already wet. That I was already his. I bit down on the towel and shoved two fingers inside. I came in thirty seconds. And then again. And again. I was addicted. To a man twice my age. My best friend’s father. A god among monsters. And I didn’t give a fuck. Every summer I spent at Thornvale, I watched him. In silence. In secret. My legs always crossed. My panties always damp. Because even as a teenager, I understood what Damon Thornvale was. He wasn’t just off-limits. He was forbidden. Sin with a cock the size of my fucking forearm and a voice that made my pussy flutter. He wasn’t mine. But I wanted him to ruin me. I didn’t want gentle. I didn’t want slow. I wanted him to bend me over the dining table while the maids watched. I wanted him to fuck me in the shower loud enough for Tasha to hear. I wanted him to make me scream “Daddy” while he filled me so full I couldn’t walk. I didn’t want to be loved. I wanted to be used. And now? I’m eighteen. Legal. Fuckable. And back in the place that started it all. Thornvale Estate. Where the walls remember every wet dream. Where the floors remember every barefoot sprint toward the room I wasn’t allowed near. Where the scent of him still lingers—cigars, blood, sweat, and sex. The gates closed behind me with a sound that made my spine stiffen. Clang. Like a coffin. I clutched my bag tighter. “LYRA!” Her voice cracked the thoughts in my head And then she was there..Tasha Thornvale, my best friend, in all her chaotic, sun-drenched glory. Blonde hair wild. Lips glossed. Legs long and bare in tiny pink shorts that hugged her ass like a second skin. She ran down the steps barefoot, boobs bouncing like they were trying to escape her tank top. My mouth dried. Her tits were bigger than last year. Full. Round. Perfect. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Of course she wasn’t. Her nipples were hard from the wind and her grin was wicked. “My Goddess, you look grown!” she squealed, grabbing me in a hug that smelled like perfume, pool chlorine, and secrets. Her tits pressed right up against mine. “You’ve got boobs now!” I laughed. Blushed. Tried not to stare at the way hers bounced when she pulled back and threw her arms wide. “What? Last year you were flatter than my iPad. Now look at you!” She twirled in place like a drunk fairy, then wiggled her ass with a playful slap. “You’re gonna make my life hell, aren’t you?” “Shut up,” I muttered, heat rising in my cheeks as I tucked a curl behind my ear. But I was smiling. Because for a second, it almost felt like we were still girls. Still sneaking wine from the cellar. Still peeking into forbidden halls. Still pretending we didn’t know what lived behind that door at the end of the west wing. “Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the mansion. “Daddy redid the whole house. It’s insane now.” Her tits bounced with every step. Her shorts rode higher with every swing of her hips. “Like… leather couches. Marble floors. New guards who look like they fuck with their guns still strapped on.” I blinked. “Sounds… intense.” “You have no idea.” She tossed her hair. “Couches so deep you’ll drown in them. And the pool…” She stopped walking, turned, grabbed her tits, and jiggled them. “The pool is so sexy, it made my nipples hard.” I choked. “Tasha…” “I mean look!” she laughed, cupping her boobs and squeezing. “Permanent diamonds, babe. Daddy made it ‘aesthetic’ or whatever. Black tiles. Underwater lights. No rules. I gave a blowjob on a floaty last week. You’re gonna have the best fucking summer.” Jesus. Her laugh rang through the courtyard as she pulled me toward the looming black estate. Thornvale. Three stories of danger dressed in sharp angles. There were guards by the door. Big. Unsmiling. Watching. I felt their eyes skim my legs. My chest. My face. I didn’t look back. Because I already knew where the real threat was. Inside. The front doors opened with a sound like breath being sucked from a grave. Cold air hit my skin and made my nipples peak beneath my hoodie. The atmosphere had a Mint. Smoke. Leather smell. And something darker. Alpha. Him. I clenched my thighs. No. Not now. Not in front of her. But Goddess, the house smelled like him. Like his sheets. Like sweat and sex and blood. I followed her deeper. Past the chandeliers. Past the black carpets. Past the oil paintings of wolves with blood dripping from their jaws. “This place isn’t a house,” I whispered. She glanced at me over her shoulder. “It’s a fucking kingdom,” I finished. Tasha smirked. “Yeah. And Daddy’s the king. Which means you better behave.” She winked, licking gloss off her bottom lip. “Unless you want him to punish you.” My knees almost buckled. She didn’t mean it like that. But my cunt clenched anyway. She opened a door. “This is your room.” The space was unreal. Creams. Silks. Candles. Big bed. View of the courtyard. Everything was giving luxury. And that was when I saw him. Through the window. Sword in hand. Shirtless. Muscles glistening in the sun like oil poured over rage. Damon. Alpha. King of this fucking nightmare. His body moved like a weapon. Every strike of the sword brutal. Every twist of his torso pornographic. I bit my lip so hard it bled. Then he turned. And he saw me. Our eyes locked. Blue. Fucking blue. Like frostbite. Like punishment. And then. He smiled. Not warm. Not kind. But cold. I stumbled back from the window like I’d been yanked by the soul. My thighs were soaked. My chest was heaving. My panties were fucking ruined. “Tasha…” I rasped. She didn’t answer. I turned. She was gone. Gone. Like the house had swallowed her whole. And now? Now I was alone. With his scent crawling up my spine. With my pussy clenching like it was begging for a cock I hadn’t even seen yet. With the ghost of that smile dragging me down to my knees. I backed away from the window. I needed to breathe. I needed to change. I needed to get my fucking fingers inside me before I screamed. Because if Damon Thornvale didn’t fuck me soon, I was going to go insane. And the worst part? I’d let him. Gladly. I reached between my legs. Just to check. I was dripping. Fuck that was fast. And he hadn’t even laid a fucking finger on me. Not yet. But he will. Because this summer? I’m not leaving Thornvale untouched. He’s going to fuck me. Knot me. Breed me. Make me scream his name with tears on my cheeks and his cum pouring out of me in thick, endless waves. And when it’s over? I’m going to crawl back for more. This is not a story. This is a warning. You’re about to enter a world where girls get on their knees for their best friend’s Daddy and beg to be used like filthy, desperate sluts. If you don’t want to cum? Put this book down. Because by the time Damon’s done with me? You’ll be soaked too.~Lyra~ “Spare me the shaky voice and the tears, Tasha. I’m not ready to be comforted by the same hands that held him while I was crying about him to you. I’m not ready to hear your sad little redemption story about how it was a mistake and you’ve hated yourself ever since. You hated yourself in silence. Privately. While I hated myself out loud. While I drowned in it. While I doubted everything about me.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Do you even know what it did to me?” I demanded, standing slowly like my legs were powered by rage and heartbreak and Red Bull. “Do you even fucking know what it felt like? Sitting in my room, sobbing over a boy who broke me, while you sat next to me — nodding like you cared, acting like my pain was safe with you — and you were the reason I was in pain the whole time?” She tried to speak. I cut her off with a raised hand. “No. No, you don’t get to talk yet. I need to say this. I need to get this out or I’m going to explode, and I swear to G
Every stupid little piece of me. She was there through my first heartbreak, my period cramps, my panic attacks before school presentations, the time I thought I had a brain tumor just because I had a headache for three days. She brought me cupcakes when my crush rejected me. She held my hair when I cried. We made stupid TikToks in pajamas and swore we’d live together forever in an apartment with a pink toaster and matching mugs.” My throat clenched. My whole body trembled. “She’s Tasha, for God’s sake. She knows the name I used to give my teddy bear. She knows my mom’s ringtone. She’s seen me ugly cry over celebrities and dance like a cracked-out giraffe in my room. I told her everything. Every stupid fear. Every fantasy. Every dream.” I leaned back, head thudding against the wall behind me, eyes staring at the sky even though everything was blurry and burning. “And yeah, she messed up. She fucked up. She broke me in a way I didn’t think she ever could. But the worst part?
~Lyra~ The second the cold air hit my face, I lost it. I didn’t even make it down the steps. I just collapsed onto the front porch like my legs gave out, like my body finally got the memo that my soul had already left the chat. My knees hit the concrete, and I curled in on myself, hugging my arms so tight around my chest you’d think I was trying to hold my heart in place. And then I started crying. Not cute crying. Not sniffles or delicate tears or the kind of weeping you do in slow-motion under the rain with dramatic piano music. No. This was the ugly kind. The loud, snotty, gasping kind. My nose was running. My face was soaked. My eyeliner had given up and was now somewhere halfway down my chin. My chest felt like it was caving in, and my breath kept catching like my lungs were glitching. And the worst part? I couldn’t stop talking. “Fuck,” I whispered first, the word dragging out of my mouth like it weighed five tons. “Fuck. Fuck. Oh my God. What the hell was that.
“Oh, you didn’t know that part?” I snarled. “You thought he chose you? Baby, no. You were just available.” I said it slowly, like each word needed to be savored, like each syllable deserved its own spotlight for the kind of psychological massacre I was about to deliver. My voice wasn’t loud — not yet — but it was sharp enough to slice through the bass, the whispers, the air itself. Every single person in that room turned to look at me like I’d just snapped my fingers and summoned fire. Tasha looked up at me, lips trembling, mascara smudged, like her soul was starting to realize the seatbelt had come undone and the ride was about to crash. I tilted my head, blinking like I was trying to make sense of the disgusting image playing behind my eyelids. “He told people you were easy,” I said, enunciating each word with the precision of a girl who had been quiet for too damn long but of course I was lying. I just wanted to make her feel terrible “He also said that he didn’t ev
~~Lyra ~~ “It was just once.” That’s what she said. Those exact words. And I swear — for a second — I didn’t even feel my body anymore. I was outside myself, hovering somewhere above the chaos like a rejected angel watching my life burn in real time. I blinked. My ears rang. My soul detached. I was standing there in heels and heartbreak, in the middle of a party I didn’t even want, and my best friend just looked me in the eye and said it was just once. Once. Like that somehow made it better. Like that made the dick smaller. The betrayal softer. The memory less soul-crushing. I stared at her. I stared so long and so hard my vision blurred. “You fucked him.” My voice cracked. Not because I was confused. But because I was confirming it out loud for the first time. My brain needed my mouth to say it so it could finally accept that this nightmare was real. “You… fucked him.” Tasha flinched, eyes wide, face pale like she’d only just realized how far gone we were.
~Lyra~I don’t know what kind of ancient demon possessed Marcus that night, but the way he leaned in to me like we were about to have some cute, nostalgic movie moment where old flames reignite under disco lights and fake forgiveness — I swear my body rejected it. He was right in front of me, inches away, his breath hitting my face like temptation and trauma mixed into one. His stupid smirk was back, eyes half-lidded like he thought this was foreplay. Like I still wanted him. Like two years of pain and humiliation were just foreplay for the big reunion kiss. I stood there frozen, heart thumping like it was trying to fight its way out of my chest and run out the front door, but then his hand reached up — and I snapped. No, I detonated. I slapped him. So hard. Like ancestors rose in my palm and said, “Let her cook.” The entire party froze. Music still played in the background like the world hadn’t just ended, but the people? They stopped. Mid-dance, mid-laugh, mid-sip. L