Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 131

Chapter 131: Chapter 131

Lyra

I moaned.

Loud. Filthy. Like I didn’t care if the entire forest heard .

Because it felt that good.

My back arched off the tree. My thighs squeezed around his waist. And my cunt clenched again—hard—like my body was trying to take matters into its own hands and pull the orgasm out of

whether he allowed it or not.

"You’re shaking," he whispered, watching

like I was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. "You’re going to co from this, aren’t you? Just from my hands on your tits."

I nodded frantically.

I couldn’t speak.

I was grinding against him now. Openly. Desperately. The friction from my ruined panties and the thick bulge in his pants was everything. I was right there. My whole body was begging. Screaming.

And he leaned in.

And whispered—

"Beg."

I sobbed.

Actually sobbed.

"Please, Daddy," I cried, rocking harder, more frantic now. "Please touch . Please make

co. I need it. I need your fingers. I need your cock. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good, I swear."

He growled.

Like, full chest rumble. Like his wolf heard

and approved.

And then—finally—he slid his hand into .

Straight down. No teasing this ti. No detours.

And he touched —really touched —for the first ti since I ran.

And he swore.

"Fuck, kitten," he growled, pressing his fingers right into my soaked folds, "you’re drenched."

"I told you," I gasped, eyes rolling back. "I’ve been dripping since you counted to five. I think I ruined the kitchen floor."

He chuckled.

"You ruined more than that."

And then—he slid a finger inside .

Slow. Deep. Perfect.

And I saw stars.

His fingers slid into my shorts like he owned them. Like my panties were just an annoying piece of fabric standing in the way of what he already considered his.

Which, okay, fair.

Because the second his fingertips brushed over my soaked folds, I completely fell apart. Like all my bones vanished and my body lted into the tree behind , gasping, whimpering, grabbing onto his shoulders like he was the only thing keeping

from sinking into the forest floor.

And maybe he was.

Because Damon wasn’t just touching . He was claiming .

One finger. Two.

Slipping deep inside , curling up like he knew exactly where my soul was hiding. His thumb stayed outside, circling that swollen, throbbing spot like he was playing with a trigger. And I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even think. I was just moaning.

Loud. Shaless. Full-body moaning like I was possessed.

"Oh my God," I gasped, hips grinding into his hand. "Damon. Oh my God. You can’t do that. You can’t just say ten seconds and then chase

and then fuck

with your fingers against a tree like I’m a—fuck—like I’m a feral little slut who’s just waiting to be ruined."

"You are," he murmured darkly, his voice right at my ear, thick with heat and pride and so much fucking ownership it made my spine bow. "You’re my little Oga slut. You were soaking before you even made it to the trees."

"I hate you," I cried, but I was rutting into his hand like a bitch in heat. "You’re so an. You’re ruining my underwear. I think my clit is broken. You’re making

shake, Damon. I think I’m gonna die."

"You’re going to co," he corrected, dragging his mouth across my jaw. "And then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t feel your legs."

I moaned again.

So loud it echoed. So loud it probably scared off a few birds. So loud I could feel my orgasm curling behind my ribs like a goddamn monster waiting to break loose.

But then he slowed down.

His fingers stopped. Just like that.

They stayed inside, deep and still, like a punishnt.

And I almost scread.

"No," I gasped, squirming, chasing the friction. "Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare stop now. You can’t do that. You can’t tease

like that, Damon, I’m literally throbbing, I’m going to cry, I swear—"

"Shh," he whispered, lips brushing my ear. "Breathe, kitten. I want to ask you sothing."

I blinked up at him, still panting, still trembling.

"What?" I whimpered. "What could you possibly need to ask

right now? You have fingers in . My brain is soup. My vagina is crying. Just fuck

already."

He smirked. Of course he did. That cruel, sexy Alpha smirk that always ant danger was coming.

And then he said it.

Slow. Dark. Filthy.

"Should we do it in wolf form?"

I stopped breathing.

Like literally just forgot how to exist.

"What," I croaked, and it wasn’t even a question. It was just air leaving my lungs in shock. "What the fuck did you just say?"

His nose brushed mine. His hand moved again—just barely—just enough to make my cunt clench around his fingers like it wanted to keep them.

"You heard ," he said softly, like he was asking what I wanted for breakfast instead of offering to wreck

on four legs. "Do you want that, kitten? Do you want

to shift? Do you want

to fuck you in our true forms? No more clothes. No more words. Just raw instinct. Teeth. Fur. Knot."

My thighs clenched. Again.

Hard.

Painful.

Because holy fucking hell, why did that sound hot? Why was I suddenly imagining myself on all fours, whining, begging, presenting for him like my wolf wanted to be filled so deep I couldn’t shift back?

"That’s not fair," I whispered, grinding into his palm like I’d lost my mind. "You can’t say that shit while you’ve got your fingers in . That’s cheating. That’s evil. That’s illegal. I’m 18. I don’t have the emotional maturity for that kind of fantasy."

He chuckled.

Chuckled.

Like he knew he’d already won.

"You’re thinking about it," he murmured, kissing my cheekbone. "You’re picturing it. Your little tail lifted. My teeth at your neck. My knot stretching you so wide you forget you were ever human."

I ca.

Right then.

I swear to the Moon, my whole body snapped. My back arched. My legs shook. My vision blurred. And my cunt clenched so hard around his fingers I swear I heard him growl.

It hit

like a lightning strike. One second I was grinding. The next I was screaming. Not words. Not even sounds. Just noise. Pure, unfiltered, Oga pleasure that burst out of

like a firestorm and burned everything else down with it.

And he didn’t stop.

He kept fucking

through it. Slow and deep. Letting

ride his fingers like a bitch in heat who couldn’t stop moaning.

I slumped against the tree.

Sweaty.

Shaking.

Utterly fucking ruined.

And he leaned in again.

Licked my cheek.

Bit my earlobe.

And whispered—

"Round two’s in fur, kitten."

I didn’t even have ti to respond.

Didn’t have ti to think.

Or speak.

Or beg for a second round.

Because the second Damon whispered, "Round two’s in fur," the forest shifted.

I could barely stand.

My legs were shaking.

My brain was fried.

I was still panting from the orgasm he gave

against the tree with just his fingers. Still dripping. Still ruined. And now my Alpha was standing in front of

in wolf form, and he was huge.

Like, not just big. Not just muscular. He looked like a fucking god carved from smoke and nightmares and pure, raw Alpha power.

His fur was pitch black, his eyes glowing gold, his chest rising and falling like he was barely holding himself back from pouncing.

And I was naked.

Fully.

Completely.

Standing in the dirt with leaves stuck to my thighs, sweat dripping down my stomach, my cunt soaked and twitching and swollen and so ready it hurt.

And I knew what was coming next.

I felt it in the air.

In the way the wind shifted.

In the way he looked at

like I was prey he’d already caught and now he just had to decide where to devour .

But he didn’t mount .

Not yet.

He circled

slowly, dragging the side of his massive body against mine, and I swear I felt his cock brush my thigh. I whimpered. Like full-body, helpless little whine that made my tail twitch and my nipples tighten all over again.

And then, he shifted.

Right there in front of . His wolf form disappeared into skin and heat and muscle, and suddenly Damon was standing there—naked—his eyes wild, his jaw sharp, his cock thick and hard, dripping precum onto the forest floor like he’d been ready to fuck

since the second I took off running.

I stared.

Like, I actually just stared.

Because holy fuck, he was gorgeous. His body was covered in dirt and sweat, his hair ssy from the shift, his chest heaving, and his cock—God—his cock was flushed, heavy, twitching like it wanted to be buried inside .

"Get inside the house," he said, voice low and cracked like he was holding himself together with fucking dental floss. "Now."

"Run kitten!"

Fuck.