Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 123

Chapter 123: Chapter 123

Lyra

Oh fuck.

My entire body lit up like soone had poured gasoline in my bloodstream and flicked a match. My breath caught. My thighs pressed together on instinct, but it was useless. The second he touched

like that, it was over. I was already gone. Again.

"From where, Daddy?" I asked, wide-eyed and teasing as I stepped back slowly, pulling the shirt higher up my thighs just enough for him to see that I wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

His eyes darkened instantly. Like night had dropped straight into his pupils.

And God, that look. That look.

That was the one that made

feel like prey. Like I was about to be devoured and not just taphorically, but literally, with his mouth, his hands, his tongue, his everything.

He moved toward , slow and purposeful, and I backed up until the backs of my knees hit the bed, and I dropped down with a little squeak because holy shit, the way he was looking at

made my skin burn.

I spread my legs just a little.

Just enough to tease.

Just enough to make him feel it.

"Is that what you want?" I asked, biting my lip. "You want to finish what we started, Daddy? Even though I’m still mad at you for lying about that crazy pipe lady on the phone?"

He raised a brow like he was about to punish

for that tone, but his mouth curved into sothing darker. Hungrier.

Then he dropped to his knees.

Right between mine.

And I swear I forgot how to breathe.

His hands slid up my legs slowly.Like he was claiming every inch of

all over again, starting from scratch, like I hadn’t already been split open by him earlier. My breath caught in my throat and I couldn’t stop the tiny whimper that slipped past my lips, even though I tried to play it cool. I always tried.

But Damon Thornvale was my weakness.

And he fucking knew it.

"You know," I murmured, letting my hand fall to his chest.

"I’m still mad at you, Daddy. In case you forgot."

He raised his head slightly, eyes locking with mine. And that look? That look made my toes curl. Like I was being dragged into hell with nothing but his mouth as my guide and God help , I wanted to go.

"I an, seriously," I went on, voice all breathy and dramatic even though my pulse was rioting in my neck. "You left

here. Dripping. Aching. Practically folded in half with my soul leaving my body—and for what? A call with so insane woman threatening pipe violence like she was auditioning for a horror movie?"

He didn’t speak. His lips just curled slightly, dark and knowing, like he loved every second of

unraveling in front of him. I shifted closer on the bed, spreading my legs a little wider, just enough to give him a better view of exactly how soaked I still was for him. He didn’t miss it. His eyes dipped straight to my pussy like he was already tasting it in his head.

"I could’ve died, you know," I continued, pretending to pout as I slowly dragged the shirt higher, lifting it inch by inch until my entire core was exposed and his breath visibly caught. "Alone. Cold. You don’t just leave a girl after making her co like that, Damon. That’s criminal."

His hands gripped my thighs tighter. I could feel the tension in his fingers, like he was holding himself back from just diving in and wrecking

right there.

"And now," I added, tilting my head like a brat, "you think you can just get back between my legs without apologizing? Without explaining why you were talking to pipe-wielding crazies while your kitten was sitting here thinking about your tongue?"

Still no words.

But his mouth was getting closer.

And I wanted to tease him until he snapped.

"So go ahead," I said sweetly, licking my bottom lip and rolling my hips forward just enough to brush against his mouth, "say you’re sorry, Daddy. Or maybe I’ll just close my legs and keep all this wet, desperate pussy to myself."

That did it.

He growled low—deep and rough and so hot I thought my brain short-circuited—and then his tongue flicked out, fast and punishing, right against my clit, and my whole body jerked like soone had plugged

into a socket.

"Fuuuck," I moaned, grabbing his hair with both hands, "Okay, maybe you’re a little bit sorry. But I’m still mad. Keep apologizing."

And he did.

With his tongue.

With his mouth.

"Oh my God—"

My head fell back, spine arching, hands clawing at the sheets behind

like I needed sothing to hold onto before I floated straight off the bed. His tongue was thick and warm and everywhere at once. It was like he’d mapped my body and was following every rembered inch, every swollen nerve, every wet, pulsing point of need that made

babble like I had no control over my mouth anymore.

And then he started talking.

Right against my pussy.

With his tongue still moving.

"Still mad at , kitten?" he growled into , his lips dragging against my folds as his breath made

shudder. "Still think I left you? Hm?" He licked up again, slower this ti, ssier, with a growl vibrating directly against my clit. "I own this pussy. You think I’d leave sothing this perfect for long?"