Breed Me, Daddy Alpha-Chapter 107

Damon

I lit the cigar slowly, letting the flame linger just long enough to burn the edge, then pulled in a deep drag as I leaned back against the counter.

The penthouse was dark, save for the gold halo of city lights pouring in from the windows, painting long shadows across the marble floor.

I hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights. Didn’t need to. I was too wound up. Too hard. Too goddamn restless to care about anything except the fact that she hadn’t arrived yet.

I’d been pacing since I sent her the location.

Every clock tick pissed me off. Every breath I took that didn’t smell like her skin made my fists clench tighter. My cock was already hard, straining against the front of my slacks, pulsing with a hunger that had been building for days.

I hadn’t fucked anyone. Hadn’t touched myself. Not once. Not since the last time I fucked her, crying into her own arm while I shoved her deeper and deeper into the only goddamn role she was ever meant to play—mine.

I didn’t even realize how fast I was smoking until ash crumbled to the floor. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

I growled low under my breath and dragged the cigar across the crystal ashtray, letting it sizzle as I checked the time again. Ten more seconds. That’s all she got.

Ten more seconds before I said fuck it, went to that fumigated house she thought she could hide in, and dragged her ass out by the throat of that too-tight shirt she always wore when she wanted attention. I knew her games. I’d seen every one. And she had no idea how badly I wanted to rip every lie out of her mouth and replace it with my cock.

My phone buzzed against the marble.

I snatched it.

First message—

Dr. Lesedi: Damon, I just wanted to inform you that Camilla has been discharged from the facility today. Please call me if she needs any support.

Fuck. I actually thought she’d stay longer.

My jaw clenched.

I stared at the words for a long time, letting them sit there in the silence, letting the name—Camilla—hit the air like a ghost I didn’t ask for.

Great. Mind you Im being sarcastic.

This is the least of my problems right now.

And honestly I should’ve cared. I really should’ve.

But I didn’t. She’s a fucking lunatic. Yeah you might be wondering why I scaled her a lunatic? I’d definitely tell you about that soon. But now fuck I needed Lyra.

I closed the message.

Didn’t reply.

Didn’t feel a thing.

Because the only girl in my fucking head right now was Lyra

Not Camilla. Not the woman I married. Not the shell of a wife who hadn’t touched me in a year, who stopped looking me in the eye long before I stopped going home. She could come back. She could scream. She could cry. She could burn the whole damn city to the ground for all I cared.

It wouldn’t change a fucking thing.

Because I didn’t miss her.

I missed Lyra

I missed her bratty little voice, always sharp enough to cut me and soft enough to beg when I had her pinned under me.

I missed that throat, the way it wrapped around my cock like she was trying to suffocate herself just to make me groan. I missed her scent—vanilla and sin—and that soaked cunt she always swore she hated me for but spread so willingly the second I said her name.

I missed her like a fucking sickness.

My palm slammed against the counter, the sound echoing through the room as I clenched my jaw.

"Where the fuck is she?" I hissed through my teeth, already reaching for my phone again.

I was going to text her.

I was going to call.

I was going to make her put the phone on speaker and tell me exactly where she was, who she was with, and why the fuck she thought I wouldn’t come for her.

But then.

The elevator dinged.

And just like that...

I didn’t need to call.

Because she was here.

And she had no fucking clue what she just walked into.

My head turned.

And there she was.

Lyra

Small. Breathless. Eyes wide and glassy. Lips parted like she was already moaning. Hair wild like she’d been touched by sin before I even laid a finger on her.

Her chest rose and fell in these shallow, shaky little breaths that told me everything I needed to know. She’d been thinking about me. Touching herself in her head. Wishing I was inside her already.

And I hadn’t even spoken.

I didn’t move right away. I just stood there, watching her from across the room with a look that made grown men piss themselves and made brats like her soak through their panties.

I could see her thighs trembling from here.

She tried to step forward.

My voice stopped her cold.

"What took you so long?"

She froze.

I stepped forward once.

My shoes echoed across the floor. My slacks hung low on my hips. My cock was still hard behind the zipper, thick and unforgiving, and I made no attempt to hide it.

"Was the cab ride too long?" I asked, tilting my head. "Did traffic keep my little whore away from her daddy? Or were you sitting back there with your legs spread and your fingers twitching, trying not to come because you wanted to be a good girl?"

Her breath hitched.

I saw it.

The way her knees bent. The way her lips parted like she wanted to lie and couldn’t find the words.