Breed Me, Daddy Alpha-Chapter 44.

My legs moved before my brain could even keep up.

I ran straight out from under the tree, into the storm, not even thinking about how insane I looked, how wet I was, how my dress was literally see-through at this point.

Like actually transparent.

Like you could see my nipples.

My whole fucking boobs.

Because guess what.

I didn’t wear a bra.

Thanks to Tasha and her brilliant "it’ll ruin the look" speech.

And not just that.

My panties weren’t even normal panties.

They were g-string.

Black.

Thin.

Useless against the rain.

Now they were just clinging between my ass cheeks and showing off every single curve like I was auditioning for a porno in the middle of a thunderstorm.

He jumped out of the car.

Slammed the door shut so hard the whole street shook.

And when he looked at me.

When he saw me standing there, soaked, dress plastered to my skin, nipples hard, pussy dripping.

He stopped.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t breathe.

His mouth actually parted.

Like he’d just seen something unholy.

"Get under the tree, Lyra," he shouted across the yard, his voice so deep and rough it slid straight between my legs. "I’ll come meet you there."

I obeyed so fast it was embarrassing.

Ran back under the tree like a drenched little slut who couldn’t wait for her punishment.

And then.

He came.

Stormed over like a fucking god.

Soaked.

Pissed.

Towering.

He stopped right in front of me, dripping rain, shirt sticking to his chest, sweatpants clinging to his thighs, his hair soaked and falling in messy strands over his forehead.

"What the hell, Lyra," he barked. "You’re soaking wet. This is not what you girls said the party would be. Both of you are in so much trouble. Especially you."

Especially me.

He said especially me.

I almost moaned.

His eyes locked with mine and I swear I could see the moment it hit him.

That I wasn’t wearing a bra.

That my nipples were right there, poking through the drenched fabric like they were begging for his tongue.

His gaze dropped.

From my eyes.

To my mouth.

Then to my chest.

And he froze again.

Just stood there.

Staring.

And I didn’t even try to hide it.

I tilted my shoulders back just slightly.

Pushed my tits forward like a fucking invitation.

And oh God.

He licked his lips.

He actually licked his lips.

Then reached down and adjusted his sweatpants like he thought I wouldn’t notice.

Like I wouldn’t see the thick, hard outline of his dick straining against the grey fabric.

And holy shit.

He was hard.

He was so fucking hard.

My whole body clenched just watching him fight it.

Watching him struggle not to look at me like he wanted to bend me over right there in the mud.

Then he snapped his head to the side like he needed to breathe.

"Where the hell is Tasha," he growled.

Oh.

Right.

Tasha.

Should I tell him the truth.

Should I say oh she’s getting dicked down by six strangers while she moans like a pornstar and forgets I even exist.

Because I want to.

I want to so bad.

Because I’m pissed.

And horny.

And kind of evil right now.

But no.

I lie.

"Oh... Tasha left me to go to another party."

He flinched.

"What!"

"She’s fine," I said quickly, shrugging like it didn’t bother me. "She’s totally fine."

"She’s fine," he snapped, stepping closer. "Have you even seen this rain. It’s pouring. She could be dead in a ditch."

I nearly laughed.

Oh she’s not dead.

She’s very much alive and getting stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey.

But I didn’t say that.

Instead I smiled.

Sweet.

Slow.

Evil.

"She’s perfectly fine, Daddy."

And then everything stopped.

His eyes snapped to mine.

His jaw clenched so tight I could see it twitch.

"What did you just call me," he said, low.

Real low.

Like warning low.

Like fuck-me-right-now low.

I swallowed.

My whole body buzzed.

I didn’t answer.

Just pressed my arms together, squeezed my tits tighter, made sure the fabric hugged every curve.

I saw his eyes darken.

"Are you doing that on purpose," he said, licking his lips again.

Like he couldn’t help it.

Like he was losing control.

I leaned back slowly.

Let my spine press against the tree trunk.

Let my lashes flutter like I was confused.

"Doing what," I whispered.

"Do you want me to suck them," he asked, and it wasn’t really a question, it was a warning.

He said it.

He actually fucking said it.

And the way he said it.

Low.

Slow.

Like a threat.

Like a dare.

Like he was already tasting them in his mouth.

My breath caught.

My whole body jolted like someone plugged me into an electric socket.

I couldn’t speak.

I couldn’t move.

I just stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips while my chest rose and fell too fast, way too fast, like my lungs forgot how to work.

Because I swear I felt it.

Felt that sentence touch me.

Right. On. My. Nipple.

My clit pulsed like it heard him too.

It was throbbing.

I was throbbing.

Every inch of me was tight and desperate and screaming please please yes please take them please bite them please ruin me Daddy please.

But I didn’t say it.

I didn’t even breathe it.

I just looked at him.