ログイン共有
Chapter Four
最終更新日:
2026-01-14 21:09:44SELENA’S POV
His knot was still thick and pulsing inside me when the text lit up the screen.
Chloe: pulling up now. wine + movie night. five mins. love u dad ❤️
Damian laughed, low, thrilled, the sound vibrating through his chest into my spine.
“Hold on to Daddy, baby. This is going to be fast and dirty.”
He stood up from the chair without pulling out, my legs dangling, arms locked around his neck, and started walking. Every step bounced me on his knot, the swollen base dragging across my G-spot like a threat. I came instantly, teeth sinking into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He growled approval, pace never slowing.
“Good girl. Milk it. Make Daddy’s knot go down faster.”
Another orgasm ripped through me before we reached the en-suite bathroom. The knot finally deflated enough for him to yank free with a wet, obscene pop. A river of cum poured down my thighs.
He tossed me over his shoulder and sprinted. Cold shower spray hit us both. Thirty seconds. His fingers shoved inside me, scooping his seed out, rough and clinical, while I sobbed from overstimulation. He washed my hair, my tits, between my legs like I was a toy he was putting away for later.
Cabinet door slammed open. White sundress, no bra, no panties. He spun me, zipped me, twisted my wet hair into a knot. Cologne. Breath mint. Shirt tucked. He looked immaculate.
I looked like I’d been fucked by a hurricane.
Front door opened downstairs.
“Dad? Sel, you here?”
We stepped into the hallway at the exact second Chloe’s footsteps hit the marble foyer. Damian shoved me into the shadowed corner of the landing, palm over my mouth, body pinning mine to the wall. Two thick fingers slid under the sundress and straight into my soaked pussy.
“Not one sound,” he breathed against my ear.
Chloe’s footsteps climbed the stairs.
He curled his fingers, stroked that spot that made my knees buckle, thumb circling my clit with surgical precision. I came silently, tears streaming, vision whiting out as Chloe reached the landing and called my name again.
He pulled his fingers free, licked them clean while staring into my eyes, then stepped out like nothing happened.
“There you are,” he called down, voice warm. “Selena spilled wine all over herself by the pool. I was just helping her change.”
Chloe bought it. She always did.
Movie night started twenty minutes later.
Lights off. Massive sectional. Chloe in the middle, me on the end, Damian on the other. Some rom-com neither of us watched. Ten minutes in, he stretched and dropped a cashmere blanket over all three of us.
His hand found my bare thigh under the fabric. Pushed the dress up. Two fingers sank home like they’d never left.
I spent the next two hours being edged to insanity while Chloe laughed at the screen and stole sips of wine. Every time I got close he stopped, squeezed my thigh hard enough to bruise, waited for me to calm, then started again.
Chloe finally passed out an hour and forty minutes in, head on my shoulder, soft little snores.
Damian didn’t wait thirty seconds.
He dragged me onto his lap, dress rucked to my waist, cock already out and dripping. One slow thrust and he was buried to the hilt. I bit his forearm to stay quiet. He fucked me in tiny, silent rolls of his hips, hand clamped over my mouth, the other pinching my clit until tears ran down my cheeks.
I felt his knot swell again, catching, locking, the first hot pulse of cum flooding me.
Chloe stirred.
“Mmm… love you, Sel…” she mumbled, nuzzling closer. Her hand flopped onto my bare thigh, fingers brushing the exact spot where Damian’s cock disappeared inside me.
Her eyes fluttered, almost opened.
He froze, knot halfway seated, cum still spilling.
Then the plot twist hit me like a freight train.
Chloe’s lips curved into a sleepy, wicked little smile.
“I know exactly what you’re doing, Daddy,” she whispered, voice husky, eyes finally opening, bright and amused and not one bit surprised. “I’ve known since the first night. You two aren’t quiet.”
My entire world imploded.
Damian’s arm tightened around my waist, possessive, unapologetic. Chloe’s fingers traced up my thigh until they brushed the stretched rim of my pussy where her father was knotted deep.
“Shh,” she crooned, leaning in to kiss my tear-stained cheek. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m not mad.”
Her tongue flicked my earlobe.
“I’m next.”
She looked straight at her father over my shoulder, eyes gleaming.
“Right, Daddy? You promised when I brought you the perfect little omega, I could watch. Maybe even help.”
Damian’s knot throbbed harder inside me, another thick spurt of cum painting my insides.
He smiled, slow and feral.
“Welcome home, princess.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m impaled, overflowing, and my best friend just smiled and said she wants to watch her daddy breed me.
And from the way his cock just jerked again, he’s going to let her.
最新チャプター
Breed me Raw, Alpha Chapter thirty seven
Genesis learned to speak to me in incentives. Not rewards, those implied generosity. Incentives were transactional. Conditional. They were how systems trained behavior without ever admitting they were doing it. Day seventeen of observation, they loosened my schedule. Ten extra minutes in the exercise atrium. A wider food selection. One unsupervised shower per cycle, though cameras still tracked vitals through the walls. It was subtle enough that someone less alert might mistake it for kindness. I didn’t. I catalogued every change. Logged the timing. Noted who authorized it and who pretended not to notice. Compliance yielded comfort. Resistance yielded consequences. They were building a map inside my head and hoping I wouldn’t realize I was doing the same to them. The atrium was the closest thing Genesis had to mercy. A circular room with a simulated sky projected overhead, cycling through gentle blues and soft clouds meant to regulate circadian rhythms. Plants grew along the edges, re
Breed me Raw, Alpha Chapter thirty six
The first thing Genesis took from me was time. Not in the dramatic way people imagine, no clocks ripped from walls, no endless darkness meant to erase days. They did it gently. Methodically. By making every hour identical. Lights brightened at six. Nutrient checks at six-thirty. Observation scans at seven. Silence from eight until noon, broken only by soft-voiced attendants who never met my eyes. Lunch precisely calibrated to fetal development. Rest periods enforced, not suggested. Movement tracked. Thoughts monitored through questions disguised as concern. “How are you feeling today, Selena?” The same way I felt yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. Like a specimen that had learned how to breathe. They called this wing Sanctuary. A word chosen carefully, like everything else Genesis touched. Sanctuary implied safety. Protection. Care. It implied I should be grateful. But sanctuaries didn’t need cameras behind the walls. They didn’t need glass ceilings that darkened
Breed me Raw, Alpha Chapter thirty five
Observation didn’t begin with needles or restraints. It began with silence. They moved me at dawn, the hour Genesis preferred for transitions. Less resistance. Less attention. The corridors were washed in pale light, the kind that made everything look clean even when it wasn’t. I walked between two escorts who never touched me, never spoke, never looked directly at my face. To them, I was already an abstraction, Subject Vessel, Phase-B Carrier, Asset Pending Review. The observation wing was buried deeper than the living quarters. No windows. No curved walls. Everything straight, sharp, precise. This was where illusion ended and intention showed its teeth. The room they placed me in was white. Not soft white. Surgical white. A narrow bed. A transparent wall facing a control room filled with shadowed silhouettes. Machines hummed gently around me, monitoring breath, pulse, uterine activity, hormone fluctuations. They dressed it up with calming sounds and neutral scents, but my body knew
Breed me Raw, Alpha Chapter thirty four
I learned very quickly that captivity didn’t always come with chains. Sometimes it came with silk sheets, soundproof walls, and the illusion of choice. The room they kept me in now was nothing like the pit, nothing like the steel corridors soaked in blood and panic. This place was quiet in a way that pressed against my ears. Soft lighting. A bed too large for one person. Walls curved instead of straight, like the inside of a shell. No visible cameras, though I knew better than to believe that. Genesis never wasted space. Or eyes. I sat on the edge of the bed with my hands folded in my lap, breathing slowly, counting each inhale the way the Council therapist had taught me weeks ago. In for four. Hold for two. Out for six. They liked control dressed up as care. The twins shifted inside me, subtle but constant now. A reminder that my body was no longer just mine, and that it never truly had been. Every movement I made was logged. Every hormone spike tracked. Every nightmare analyzed. I w
Breed me Raw, Alpha Chapter thirty three
They taught obedience like it was kindness. Not with whips or threats or locked doors, but with routines. With gentle voices and predictable days. With the slow erosion of choice until compliance felt like rest. The council understood something fundamental about control: people fought cages they could see, but adapted to ones that looked like care. I woke every morning to the same soft chime. Lights warmed gradually, mimicking sunrise. The air shifted temperature by half a degree, calibrated to my comfort. My schedule appeared on the wall without me asking. Wellness check. Nutrition window. Movement allowance. Rest cycle. Nothing forced. Nothing demanded. I followed it anyway. Because every deviation was noted. Because every refusal earned concern, not punishment. Concern that came with longer evaluations, closer monitoring, more people asking questions while pretending not to interrogate me. So I learned the shape of obedience. I learned how much to give and where to stop. Dr. Kovač
Breed me Raw, Alpha Chapter thirty two
The council believed silence was mercy. They dressed it in soft lighting, measured voices, and clean corridors that smelled faintly of antiseptic and flowers. They called it stabilization. They called it protection. They told me I was safe now, that the chaos outside these walls was being handled, contained, corrected. What they didn’t understand was that silence can sharpen a person. It gives you time to think. I learned the facility’s rhythm quickly. Morning assessments disguised as wellness checks. Nutrient-dense meals calibrated to my pregnancy. Controlled walks through indoor gardens where the air was too perfect to be real. Every interaction followed a script, and every script had gaps. I watched those gaps. Dr. Kovač came daily. She asked about my sleep, my stress levels, the twins’ movements. She spoke gently, like a friend, but her eyes never stopped calculating. “They’re very active,” she said one afternoon, watching the monitor as I lay back against the cushions. “Strong ne
あなたも気に入るかもしれません
