Breed Me, Daddy Alpha-Chapter 18.

~Damon~

She froze.

Mid-step.

Mid-breath.

Her spine went stiff like the lash of my voice had locked her into place. One bare foot hovered above the gravel. Her knuckles tightened around the hem of the shirt. That wild mess of wet hair shifted with the breeze, strands clinging to her neck like a collar.

The hem of that shirt..my fucking shirt..fluttered just enough to expose the start of her ass and the bare split between her thighs.

She turned slowly.

Too slowly.

Like she knew I was watching. Like every inch of that turn was for me. Like the Moon Goddess herself had choreographed it to kill me.

Her wide eyes locked on mine..shimmering, sinful, pretending innocence like a lying little slut.

She was breathing through her mouth now. Like she couldn’t catch enough air. Like her lungs were drowning in heat. But it was her chest that betrayed her.

That shirt was see-through. Soaked through from the shower or sweat..I didn’t give a fuck.

It was glued to her skin, plastered to every curve of her body like wrapping paper begging to be torn open. And those tits..fuck..those tits were the stuff of war. Perfect. Perky.

Bouncing gently with every tremble in her breath. Her nipples were outrageous.. fat nubs pressing against the cotton like they were trying to tear through it just to get to my mouth.

Swollen. Flushed. Painfully hard. They twitched. I saw it.

"I only came here to give you your keys, sir," she whispered.

Sir.

Like she didn’t know that word drove me insane. Like she wasn’t moaning it on purpose. That one word had my cock twitching so hard it ached.

And that’s when I saw it.

The shine.

Between her thighs.

A trail of slick. Glistening. Coating the insides of her legs like syrup. It started from that untouched, tight little pussy and slid all the way down to her fucking knee.

She was dripping.

Standing there.

Dripping for me.

I took one step toward her.

She didn’t move.

Another step.

Her thighs clamped together like her cunt was trying to keep the slick from spilling.

My voice dropped.

"Is that so?" I rasped. "Just the keys?"

"Yes, sir."

There it was again.

That crack.

That trembling edge in her voice.

Not fear.

Need.

I dragged my gaze down her body. Slowly. Greedily.

"You walk out here in my shirt... no bra... no panties... tits bouncing like you want me to bend you over this fucking hood and bite them till you scream..."

She gasped.

Her back arched slightly.

Fucking offering herself without realizing it.

"You think saying ’sir’ makes you good?" I growled. "You think I don’t see what you’re doing? That I don’t smell your pussy from ten fucking feet away?"

She whimpered.

Tried to say something.

Failed.

Her thighs squeezed tighter.

Her whole body shivered like the air itself had turned to lust.

"You think calling me sir is gonna stop me from bending you in half and fucking you till you cry so loud the whole neighborhood hears?"

She made the softest, filthiest sound I’ve ever heard.

I stepped closer. The heat between us rose like steam off her soaked skin.

Her nipples brushed my chest. Hard. Hot. Needy.

I leaned in.

Right against her throat.

My lips didn’t touch her.

Just breathed.

And she shuddered.

"Why are you trembling?" I whispered.

She didn’t answer.

"Why are your nipples so stiff they look like they’re in pain?"

Nothing.

"Why," I snarled, "can I see your slick dripping down your legs and smell your cunt from here like it’s begging to be sucked?"

She choked on her own breath.

Her head fell back slightly.

Like the shame was too heavy.

Like her body was giving up the lie.

"You’re soaked," I hissed. "Standing in my fucking driveway dripping because I said your name. You came out here wearing that tiny shirt knowing damn well your cunt was bare. You didn’t even wipe yourself. You’re leaking like a girl who wants to get caught. Like a girl who wants to be punished. Fucked. Used."

She whimpered.

So softly.

So broken.

I leaned down.

My mouth hovered just above her nipple.

Still didn’t touch.

Just breathed against it.

It twitched. Again.

She moaned.

A tiny, helpless sound that told me everything.

"You want me to taste it?" I whispered. "You want me to fall to my knees and suck every drop of slick off those thighs like a starved man?"

She whimpered again.

"You want to ride my face till your legs stop working and you forget who you are?"

Her knees wobbled.

I fucking grinned.

"You want to cry, Lyra? You want to scream Daddy while my fingers ruin that tight little hole and stretch it wide so I can break it with my cock?"

She didn’t speak.

Her mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

Just need.

I stood straight. Brushed her hair from her face like she was mine already. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"You still want to pretend it was just the keys?" I asked low.

She looked up at me, eyes glassy, lip trembling, her body a trembling mess of arousal.

"I... I came to give you your keys," she whispered.

Then softer.

So fucking soft it sounded like sin.

"Sir."

My cock jerked so hard it hurt.

But I didn’t touch her.

I reached out.

Took the keys from her hand.

Let my fingers brush her wrist.

Let her feel every ounce of control I was holding onto by the edge of a fucking knife.

Then I bent down.

Stopped just before her lips.

Close enough she could feel the heat of my breath.