Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 111

Chapter 111: Chapter 111

Lyra

I couldn’t stop moaning.

"Daddy," I moaned, breathless and desperate and shaking, "oh my God, daddy, fuck, please, please don’t stop.."

My head slamd lightly against the wall when he ramd into

again, so hard and so deep that my thighs actually trembled around his hips.

I didn’t care.

I didn’t care about anything.

All I cared about was how full I felt, how good he made

feel, how badly I wanted him to keep going until I couldn’t walk for a week.

"You feel that?" I gasped, voice cracking as my nails dragged down his back. "You feel how wet I am? I’ve been like this for days. I couldn’t even fucking think without getting soaked.

Every ti I saw a picture of you in my phone I almost started humping my fucking pillow like a pathetic little girl, but I didn’t, I swear I didn’t, I waited for you like a good girl, like your good little fucktoy, like your personal little cumdumpster.."

He growled when I said that word.

His fingers dug into my ass harder. His cock hit even deeper. His teeth found my neck again, biting down until I gasped and moaned louder than I ant to.

My breasts kept bouncing with every movent, my nipples so hard they ached, and I couldn’t stop clawing at him. My legs were shaking. My arms were shaking. My voice was a ss of moans and cries and high, breathy gasps.

And through it all, I just kept saying his na.

"Damon—daddy—oh God—please, harder, I missed this, I missed you, I missed your cock, please, please don’t stop, I need it—I need it so fucking bad—"

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t think.

And every single ti he pulled out and slamd back in, I felt myself spiral a little more.

"Make

co," I whispered against his throat. "Please, daddy, please make

co. I want to co on your cock. I want to co while you’re still fucking

against the wall like I’m your personal fucking slut—like I’m just a hole for you to fill and ruin and leave dripping—please, please, I’m so close—"

And then he slamd into .

Harder than before.

So hard I actually scread.

My back slamd against the wall again. My legs nearly slipped from around his waist. My vision blurred.

My mouth opened but no sound ca out. And then he growled sothing in my ear..sothing low and filthy and possessive that I couldn’t even process..and pulled out so fast my pussy clenched around nothing and I almost started crying.

But before I could say a single word..before I could beg or moan or even breathe..he moved.

Like fast.

Like I wasn’t even a person, just a toy he could bend and flip and use how he fucking wanted.

He grabbed the back of my neck and dragged

from the wall, spun

around like a doll, and shoved —not onto the floor, not onto the bed, not against the wall again—but onto him.

His back hit the floor, and I landed on top of him—but it wasn’t cowgirl.

No. Not even close.

Because the second I landed, he bent my legs backward, hooked my knees over his shoulders, and folded

in half—my back arched, my ass completely off the floor, my pussy spread wide and exposed with my ankles practically touching my ears. I was upside down, backwards, fucked-up and wide open with his cock lining up to push in from above.

And I scread.

Like full-body, unfiltered, holy-shit-he’s-gonna-kill- scread.

Because I’d never felt anything like it in my life.

"Damon—what—what is this—oh my God, daddy—fuck, I can’t—this position—it’s—it’s so deep—I’ve never—fuck—"

My tits bounced against my chest with every thrust. My throat kept catching on every moan. My pussy was so swollen and wet that the sounds—the fucking sounds—were loud and ssy and filthy as hell.

And I didn’t care.

"Daddy—fuck—fuck—oh my God—this position..I can feel it in my stomach—I swear I feel it in my fucking ribs—I’m gonna co—fuck I’m gonna co so hard I’m gonna die.."

He grunted above

and slamd down again, and I saw stars. My body actually convulsed.

My legs trembled where they were locked over his shoulders.

My hands grabbed at nothing, fingers curling into the air like I could claw reality back into my palms.

And he didn’t stop.

He just fucked down into , over and over, with this brutal rhythm that made

cry and moan and laugh like I was going insane.

My mouth wouldn’t close.

My eyes wouldn’t stay open.

And every single thrust made

feel like I was about to ascend and fucking explode at the sa ti.

"Daddy—please—I can’t—fuck—I’m coming—I’m gonna co so hard—you’re going to break .."

And then he stopped.

Just for a second.

Just long enough for my brain to think I was going to get a break.

But I should’ve known better.

Because he didn’t stop to be kind.

He stopped to flip .

His hands gripped my thighs, strong and unforgiving, and in one smooth, brutal movent, he snatched

off the floor like I weighed nothing, like I wasn’t already soaking and trembling and seconds away from passing out. I barely had ti to breathe before he twisted my body again—this ti flipping

face down onto the cold marble, but he didn’t let go of my legs.