Chapter 2: I Can’t Get Him Off My Mind

Lyra~

I sat at the edge of the bed like a fucking ghost.

Legs pressed tight together. Toes curling against the carpet.

Eyes locked on my own reflection like I didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me.

My skin was flushed.

My cheeks pink.

My nipples hard enough to show through the tank top.

And between my thighs?

A constant, pulsing ache. So swollen I could feel my heartbeat in my clit.

I looked ruined.

Fucked.

And he hadn’t even touched me yet.

All he’d done was look.

One stare from that balcony and my body turned to heat.

One fucking smirk and I’d nearly creamed my panties in the goddamn pool.

I couldn’t stop seeing it.

The way he stood there..shirtless, sword glinting in the sun, like some ancient fucking god made of violence and testosterone.

The way his eyes devoured me.

No smile. Just hunger.

Then that smirk.

That promise.

It was the kind of look that said he knew.

What I smelled like.

What I tasted like.

What I’d do for him if he just crooked a finger.

I should’ve looked away.

I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

He had me already.

“Lyra.”

Tasha’s voice snapped through the silence.

I jerked, blinking at her as she stepped out of the en-suite, towel clinging to her hips, droplets of water sliding down her bare tits like pearls down silk.

Her nipples were perky and hard. Her tits…fucking perfect. Plump. Upturned. Freckled with droplets. She looked like a p**n star in a summer movie.

“What are you even doing?” she giggled. “You’ve been staring at yourself like a serial killer for ten minutes.”

“I wasn’t..” I cleared my throat, forcing my thighs apart a little, trying to cool the heat pulsing between them. “Just… zoning out.”

Tasha rolled her eyes and dropped the towel with zero shame, standing there in nothing but a lacy pink thong while she rummaged through her drawer. Her tits bounced with every move—bare, jiggly, happy as fuck to be seen.

She didn’t care that I was staring.

She never had.

And Goddess, she looked good.

No bra. No filter. Just long legs, smooth skin, and a rack that looked sculpted by the Moon Goddess herself. The way she bent over to grab a crop top made her tits sway and jiggle like they were begging for attention.

“You’re so weird sometimes,” she said, tugging on the top without a second thought. “But hot. So it’s fine. We’ll just say you’re the quiet, mysterious one and I’m the reckless whore.”

“Tasha…”

She spun, grinning. “What?! It’s true. I’ve got one brain cell and two amazing tits. Look.”

She grabbed them.

Jiggled them.

“Funbags, Lyra. Actual fun. And we’re gonna use the hell out of them this summer.”

I laughed, blushed, and shook my head.

She stepped close and smushed her boobs together like a sandwich. “Pool. Boys. Wine. Orgies…just kidding. Unless?”

I choked. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re coming with me. First, pool. Then ice cream. Then we fuck around in the wine cellar until Daddy catches us and grounds us like we’re still sixteen.”

At the mention of her dad, my breath hitched.

Tasha didn’t notice.

She just slipped into tiny shorts…if you could call them that…and flounced to the mirror. Her tits bounced the whole way.

I stared at her reflection.

Not at her tits.

Not really.

At the ring on her dresser.

His ring.

Damon Thornvale’s Alpha ring.

Thick. Silver. Heavy with power.

My thighs clenched.

She grabbed her sunglasses, tied her hair up, and looked at me. “You coming?”

“I’ll meet you there,” I croaked. “Just need a sec.”

She shrugged. “Don’t keep Daddy waiting. He hates that.”

I froze.

She winked. “Kidding.”

And then she was gone.

****

The red one-piece clung to my body like a second skin. Cut high on the hips. Low on the chest. So tight I could feel my heartbeat in my nipples.

I slipped into it with trembling fingers.

No bra. No panties.

Just wet skin and soaked fantasies.

I didn’t even care what it looked like.

I wanted him to see me.

To smell the heat between my legs from a fucking mile away.