Breed Me, Daddy Alpha-Chapter 32.

The second I stepped through the door, my lungs stopped working.

Not because it was crowded. Not because the music was so loud I could feel it in my teeth. Not even because Tasha was already pulling me forward like she was leading me into a fucking rave.

It was the smell.

The heat.

The sex in the air.

That sharp, humid thickness that curled around my thighs like a whisper. My cunt clenched before I even realized what was happening. My whole body responded instinctively, like my biology just clocked where the fuck we were and was like, oh... oh fuck.

Because this wasn’t just a party.

This was a goddamn orgy disguised as a house party.

People were making out in public like they couldn’t breathe unless their tongues were down someone’s throat.

A girl in the kitchen was grinding on a guy while his hand was inside her dress. Inside. And she wasn’t even trying to hide it. Just moaning softly into his mouth as his fingers disappeared up to the knuckle.

There were bodies everywhere. On counters. On couches. Some grinding on each other like they were in heat. Which, now that I think about it, they probably were.

A few had shifted partially. Fangs flashing. Eyes glowing. I watched a couple on the stairs lose control and fucking shift during sex. Mid-thrust. No shame. No pause. Just fur and snarls and a girl screaming yes yes yes like getting knotted in public was her Saturday night plan.

I felt my stomach twist. My thighs squeeze tighter.

I was an Omega.

Unmated. Untouched. Half-wrecked by Damon’s mouth.

And I just walked into a fucking den of wolves with their cocks out and no rules.

Every cell in my body screamed danger. Every instinct I had said turn the fuck around. But I didn’t. I followed Tasha deeper into the house like an idiot. Like prey. Like a girl already halfway ruined and too curious for her own good.

And they smelled me.

Fuck. I could feel it.

The shift in the air when I passed.

The subtle turns of heads.

The sniffing.

The growling.

I wasn’t even the hottest girl here. Not by a long shot. There were girls in lingerie and pasties and sheer gowns with tits out and legs spread and collars on.

But none of them smelled like me. None of them were Omega and wet and leaking Damon-fucking-Thornvale’s warning between their thighs.

I didn’t belong here.

I knew it in my bones.

But I couldn’t stop walking.

Then she appeared.

Like a scene from one of those pornos I pretended not to watch.

Tits.

Just... tits.

Gigantic, gravity-defying, perfectly round titties practically punching me in the face as this platinum-haired barbie bounced toward Tasha in six-inch heels and the tightest, glossiest latex top I’d ever seen. Her lips were shiny. Her waist was snatched. And her smile was fake as fuck.

"Tasha," she screamed, arms wide like they were best friends who hadn’t seen each other since the war. "Good to see you finally made it."

She hugged her tight, jiggling everywhere, perfume slamming into me like a glitter-scented truck. Strawberries. Weed. Sex.

And then her eyes landed on me.

And her smile... it fucking slowed.

Like her brain just switched gears.

Like she sniffed something she couldn’t quite place and decided to follow the scent.

Her gaze dragged over my body so slowly it felt like she was peeling the dress off with her eyes. She tilted her head, one manicured finger wrapping around a lock of her hair.

"Who’s this?"

Her voice was syrupy.

Too sweet.

Like poison disguised as honey.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Because she wasn’t really talking to me. She was studying me. Picking me apart with those sharp, glitter-shadowed eyes like she already knew I didn’t belong here and wanted to see how fast I’d fall apart.

Tasha slung an arm around me, laughing like nothing was wrong. "This is Lyra. My Best friend."

Best friend .

My stomach twisted.

I wanted to laugh. Or maybe scream.

Because I wasn’t just her friend.

I was the girl her father made moan on the bar an hour ago.

The girl who came down the stairs with cum on her thighs and a warning in her ears.

The girl with a pulse too loud and a cunt still clenching around nothing.

But I smiled.

Fucking smiled.

Because what the fuck else was I supposed to do?

The blonde stepped closer. Her hips moved like a dancer’s. Her lashes fluttered.

"Well hello, Lyra," she purred. "You look... fresh."

Fresh?

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

My eyes darted to Tasha, but she was already pulling away, distracted by someone yelling across the room.

"Drinks!" she squealed. "I need a shot!"

Then she was gone. Vanished into the blur of bodies and music.

Leaving me alone.

With her.

The blonde stepped in, smile razor-sharp.

She sniffed.

Not discreetly.

Sniffed.

And her smile grew.

"Mmm," she whispered, her eyes locking on mine. "You’re not from around here, are you?"

I took a shaky breath. My heart slammed against my ribs. I was trying to act cool. Chill. Not like I was seconds away from bolting or falling to my knees, whichever came first.

"I... just moved."

Her eyes dipped again.

To my thighs.

To the way they were pressed together so tightly I was practically vibrating.