Semua Bab Breed Me. Daddy Alpha: Bab 201 - Bab 210

I licked my fingers. Moaned around them. And smiled like the unholy little brat I was born to be. “I’m so wet it’s embarrassing,” I said. “My body’s literally leaking because I want you so bad. I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I need your cock in my mouth. I need to taste it. I want to suck on it until my jaw aches and my eyes are full of tears and you’re gripping my hair saying, that’s it, kitten, take it all like the good little Omega you are.” I grabbed his belt buckle. Still didn’t undo it. Just held it. Just stared at it like it was sacred. “And then I want you to bend me over something solid,” I went on. “A table. The wall. The floor. I don’t care. I just want to feel your knot. I want to be split open and stretched and stuffed with your cum until it’s dripping out of me and I’m shaking from how good it feels.” I kissed the buckle. Breathed on it. Smiled like a girl about to destroy her entire fucking future and loving it. “Please,” I whispe

I started pacing in the stall, which was extremely difficult because it was tiny and my pants were still halfway down and my thighs were trembling and the floor felt like it was tilting, but I couldn’t stop. My mind was running full-speed, every filthy memory I’d buried in my clit shooting straight to the front of my brain like it had something to say now that I was having a full-body meltdown. “Okay. Okay. Calm down. Think, Lyra. Let’s think. You got here late May, right? First heat hit maybe three days in? You wore that tiny little towel. He saw you. He growled. He pinned you to the kitchen counter. You came. He made you beg. And then he—oh my God, he knotted you. Right there. On the fucking floor.” I slapped my hand to my mouth like that would help stop the memories but it didn’t. All it did was make my pussy clench again because my body was still so stupidly in love with what he did to me. And now it might have consequences. “Okay but I was fine after that,” I said, stil

The second the words left my mouth, I blinked at myself in the mirror like I was expecting some magical answer to pop out of the sink drain. But no, there was just me—sweaty, puffy-lipped, flushed like I’d just had a panic attack and an orgasm at the same time, staring at my own reflection with a kind of blank horror. “But come to think of it.” I said, grabbing paper towels to blot my face even though I looked like I’d been dragged through a storm of hormones. “Have I ever heard him talk about babies? No. Not once. Not ever. He talks about killing rogues. He talks about territory lines. He talks about punishing people. He talks about… knotting.” I groaned. “So much knotting.” “But like… has he ever seen a stroller and said, ‘Aww’?” I asked myself, throwing the paper towel in the trash with way too much force. “Has he ever held a baby? What if he hates babies? What if he thinks babies are annoying and loud and sticky and they cry too much and interrupt his brooding?” I gasped d

There was silence. And then, finally, one of her friends spoke up in the quietest voice I had ever heard come out of a girl with glitter eyeliner. “Let’s go, Tasha,” she said quickly, stepping in and pulling at her arm. “You know how your dad is…” Tasha didn’t move at first. She looked shaken. Her face was still burning red from the slap, her expression cracked with a mixture of rage and disbelief. Her lips parted like she wanted to scream, but nothing came out. So she just glared at me. Hard. “This isn’t over,” she hissed. I rolled my eyes, slowly, dramatically, like I was auditioning for the lead role in a teen villain soap opera. “Yeah,” I muttered with a bored sigh. “Typical line of every movie villain right before they fall into a pit of their own stupidity.” And with that? I walked past her. ~~ I didn’t even pause when I walked out of that bathroom. I didn’t look back. I didn’t check if Tasha was still glaring or if her girls were whispering behind her.

He just caught me. Immediately. Without hesitation. Like his arms had been waiting for this exact breakdown. He pulled me into his chest so fast and so tight I thought he was going to crush me, and I didn’t care. I buried my face in his shirt, clutched fistfuls of fabric like I needed it to breathe, and let it all out. I cried so hard I couldn’t see straight. My makeup was absolutely ruined. My body wouldn’t stop shaking. My thighs kept pressing together like they didn’t know if they wanted to close or open. And through it all, he just held me. He pressed his hand to the back of my head and stroked my hair gently, slowly, tenderly, like I was this precious little thing that might fall apart completely if he didn’t keep touching me. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered against my hair. “I’ve got you, kitten.” I whimpered. Actually whimpered. My knees gave way completely and he just adjusted, wrapping one strong arm under my thighs and lifting me off the ground like I weigh