Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 139

Chapter 139: Chapter 139

Lyra

I stood there at the top of the stairs watching them argue—watching their hands move, their mouths open, their bodies tense—and honestly, it felt like I couldn’t hear a single fucking thing.

Their lips were moving, but the words weren’t landing. They weren’t even making it to my ears. It was like soone turned the volu of the whole world down to zero and left

trapped in a bubble of silence, in a house that suddenly didn’t feel like it belonged to

anymore.

Because she kissed him.

She fucking kissed him.

She put her lips on his like she owned him. Like she had the right. Like he hadn’t been inside

less than an hour ago. Like I wasn’t still limping from the way he split

open with his knot, still aching from how full he left , still dripping down my thighs like I was so ruined little thing marked and claid and destroyed.

And there she was.

Putting her mouth on him like she was coming ho to her man.

God. Who was I even kidding?

She’s his wife.

His actual wife.

The woman in the picture fra. The woman he said was dead. The one with the perfect blonde hair and glossy smile and long legs and pretty little rich-girl bones that probably never broke no matter how hard she cried.

And I’m just—

I’m just an eighteen-year-old idiot who fell in love with a man twice her age.

A man I barely know. A man with secrets. A man who breaks people and makes them beg and ruins them in the best, worst, most addictive way possible.

And I let him ruin .

Willingly.

I wanted it.

I still want it.

I still want him.

Even now. Even after this. Even as my entire chest feels like it’s being chewed on from the inside out by so animal I can’t control.

I wanted to move. I really did. I wanted to run. To scream. To cry or throw sothing or slam the door so hard it cracked.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t do anything except stand there, frozen, while my wolf paced inside

like she wanted blood. She was angry. Furious. Not just for . For us. She kept whispering things in the back of my head like mine, mine, ours, ours, get her out, and I didn’t know whether I was going to shift or collapse or start tearing my own hair out from the pressure building in my skull.

Because she touched him.

That woman touched him.

And not just his arm.

She touched his cock.

I saw it.

I fucking saw it with my own two eyes.

She reached for him like she knew the exact shape of it. Like it still belonged to her. Like the sa cock that was inside —inside —just minutes ago didn’t an anything at all.

I think I stopped breathing.

My whole body clenched up so fast I nearly blacked out. My legs went numb. My throat locked. My stomach twisted so hard I thought I was going to vomit all over the railing. My heart? Gone. Obliterated. I think it actually disintegrated inside my chest.

I couldn’t stop staring at her hand.

At her fingers right there, pressing against the front of his sweatpants like she’d done it a million tis and had every intention of doing it again.

And he didn’t push her away fast enough.

He didn’t yell.

He didn’t even fucking flinch right away.

So what did that an?

What the hell did that an?

Was he just shocked? Was he just frozen? Was he secretly enjoying it? Or worse—was he comparing us? Was he standing there thinking about how she used to do it and how she probably did it better and how I’m just so young little mistake he got carried away with?

God. Why was I thinking like this? Why couldn’t I shut my brain up?

Why couldn’t I forget what I saw?

Why couldn’t I forget that her lips were just on his?

That her hand was on the sa body that just had mine begging for more?

I could still feel him inside .

Still feel the pressure of his knot.

Still feel the sting between my legs and the soreness in my thighs and the ss dripping out of

and down my legs in slow, sticky trails of humiliation.

And none of it mattered.

Because I wasn’t her.

Because I would never be her.

She had history with him. A house. A child. A wedding band. A na. I didn’t even have a toothbrush here. I didn’t even have clothes. I had a bed I wasn’t supposed to be in, a body he used like a toy, and feelings that were way too big for a girl who thought she was smart enough to not get attached.

I was wrong.

So fucking wrong.

And now I was standing here, shaking, sweating, still naked under this goddamn sheet, watching the man who said I was his let another woman put her mouth and her hands on him like I didn’t even exist.

I blinked.

Another tear fell.

I didn’t rember crying.

I didn’t rember anything except the scream that was climbing up my throat and the wolf in my head howling like she wanted to kill sothing.

But I didn’t move.

I just stood there.

Watching.

And then she did sothing that made every nerve in my body twitch with rage.

Sothing that made my vision blur and my hands curl so tight I swear I felt my nails digging into the skin of my palms.

She started unbuttoning her shirt.

Right there in front of him.

Right there in his house.