Chapter 124: Chapter 124
Lyra
I choked on my breath. My hands flew to his hair and I yanked, but it only made him groan deeper, louder, like he liked the pain.
"You’re dripping," he muttered, tongue swirling fast and deep. "You like running that bratty little mouth, but this greedy cunt’s already begging for ." He shoved two fingers inside
without warning, curling them just right, and my entire body convulsed.
"Damon—" I gasped. My thighs trembled. My brain was white noise. I was trying to stay mad. I was trying to be sassy. But holy fuck he was licking
like he was going to die if he didn’t swallow every drop of my orgasm.
He flicked his tongue against my clit so fast I scread. Not like a little moan, no. A real scream. High and cracked and soaked with shock because I didn’t think it was possible to feel this much.
"You hear that?" he snarled into , voice low and filthy, lips brushing my folds. "You hear how wet you are? This cunt’s sobbing for , kitten. Maybe I should record this shit. Let you hear how fucking ruined you sound."
I gasped again, shaking.
My hips bucked straight off the bed but he held
down, both arms locking over my thighs as he devoured .
And I couldn’t shut up.
"Oh my God oh my God Damon I swear—fuck—I was supposed to stay mad I swear I was supposed to—why does your mouth feel like this—I think I just died and ca back—wait—I’m gonna co—Damon you’re not even sorry are you?"
He didn’t stop. Not for one second.
His mouth stayed locked on my clit, sucking like he wanted my soul through it, and his fingers just kept pumping, harder, faster, hitting that spot that made
stutter every ti he curled them.
"Say it," he demanded against . "Say you forgive ."
"Fuck you!" I moaned, toes curling. "This is not forgiveness, this is brain damage, I don’t even know my na right now—"
He pulled back just an inch, lips slick, beard wet, voice low enough to crack
open from the inside. "Say you’re mine."
I could barely see. The room was spinning. I was on the edge of sothing violent, sothing hot and loud and crawling up my spine like a tidal wave about to crush .
"I’m yours, Daddy," I whispered, trembling all over. "I’m so yours."
And just like that, he buried his face in
again, tongue sliding deep as he sucked
into a full-body orgasm so loud, so ssy, so intense, I forgot where I was. I scread again, legs shaking uncontrollably, hips jerking against his mouth because I couldn’t not move. It was too much.
He groaned as I ca, low and proud, like he loved watching
break, like this was his favorite part— completely ruined and babbling and dripping down his chin.
And then I felt him stand.
His mouth left .
His voice dropped to my ear.
"Now sit that pretty ass on my face and ride it like you’re still mad."
And I swear, I nearly ca again just hearing him say that.
And guess what y’all?
I fucking sat my thick ass on his face and gave him the ride of his fucking life.
I climbed over him slowly, dramatically, because I knew he loved the view. My knees frad his head, my thighs still shaking, and my hands rested on the headboard for balance because I already knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold myself steady once he started eating again.
I looked down at him, and he just smirked like the devil. Eyes black. Hair ssy. Mouth wet. He slapped my ass once, hard and loud, and growled, "Sit."
So I did.
I sank down onto his mouth and holy fucking hell—I swear to God, his tongue hit
like lightning.
He licked up into
so deep my spine curved on instinct and I rode. Not slow. Not gentle. I rode. Full grind. Face pressed. My hips rolled like my life depended on it, like I was trying to smother every last breath out of him with my pussy and make him fucking thank
for it.
And he loved it.
His tongue was everywhere—flicking, sucking, circling my clit while his nose pressed right against my sweet spot and oh my God I started moaning like a damn pornstar.
"Daddy—fuck—yes, like that—don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—"
My head was thrown back, hair wild, nails clawing into the wall as I bounced on his face like it was a goddamn throne and I was ant to sit there.
I swear I saw stars. Galaxies. I wasn’t even on Earth anymore. I was in Damon’s world.
So yeah.
I rode his face like the spoiled, filthy little kitten I am.
And when I finally collapsed off him, drenched and shaking and wrecked, he looked up at
with his mouth covered in
and that stupid, perfect smirk on his face like he was proud of the ss he made.
And y’all?
Let
just say this one ti for the girls in the back:
Get yourself a man like Damon
A man who doesn’t care about your attitude. Who’ll let you yell, pout, tease, throw a tantrum—then drop to his knees, grab your thighs, and eat you until you see fucking God. A man who’ll make you co so hard you forget your na, your sins, and whatever you were mad about in the first place.
Because baby, I might be eighteen, I might run my mouth, I might start fights I can’t win—but Damon?
Damon ends every single one of them with his tongue.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
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