Chapter 174: Chapter 174
Lyra
And then I talked. Because of course I did.
I moaned and whimpered and said the nastiest things that ca to my mind.
"Fuckfuckfuck—Damon—your cock is so thick I can’t—I can’t even think straight—I feel you everywhere—I swear I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna cum just from you slamming into
like that—oh my God yes—keep going—don’t stop—don’t ever stop—I wanna feel this table crack under us—I want them to hear —I want every pack in the territory to know what happens when you give a girl a voice and then bend her over and claim her."
He was growling now. Panting. Gripping my hips like he wanted to own every inch of my body and brand it with his cock.
"Cum," he ordered. "Do it now."
And I did.
Loud. Shaking. Soaking. Screaming his na like a goddamn hymn.
"DAMON—I’M CUMMING—I’M CUMMING SO HARD—FUCK—I CAN’T—OH MY GOD—FUCK —RUIN —FUCKING RUIN !"
Then I was gone. Like gone. Like shaking, squirming, grabbing fistfuls of the table like I was about to fall through the center of the earth and take every moan with .
My pussy was clenching so tight around his cock I could barely breathe, and my vision was going white around the edges like I was about to black out from how fucking good it felt.
And Damon?
Oh my fucking God.
He was watching
like I was the main event at a blood ritual. Like I was sacred and slutty and made just to fall apart on his cock.
And then he spoke.
Not soft.
Not gentle.
Filthy.
Commanding.
Like every fucking word ca from deep in his chest and straight into my soul.
"Yeah, cum for , you needy little kitten," he growled, his voice so low and rough it made my stomach flip. "Soak my cock.
"Oh my God, Daddy—fuck—keep talking—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—"
He didn’t.
"Such a ssy fucking mouth," he whispered, bending over , lips at my ear, hand gripping the back of my neck like he owned it. "Always running. Always mouthing off. But look at you now—crying, shaking, cumming all over my cock like a filthy little heat-drunk whore."
I whimpered.
Loud.
Embarrassed.
Turned the fuck on.
"I love it," he hissed, dragging his cock out slow, then slamming it back in so hard I scread. "I fucking love how loud you are. How wet you get when I talk to you like this. You want more, kitten? Want
to fuck you until that smart little brain of yours lts right down your legs?"
I nodded like a goddamn idiot, my whole body trembling, voice cracking as I tried to keep up.
"Y-Yes, Daddy—I want it—I want more—I wanna be your filthy little Oga.
"I wanna be used. I want you to use my pussy. Use my mouth. Use my whole fucking body. Make
yours. Break
if you want. Just keep talking. Please—please keep talking while you fuck —"
And holy shit.
That did it.
Damon grabbed my throat, not tight enough to choke , just firm enough to claim it. His cock slamd into
again, harder, deeper, and he moaned—like moaned, from his chest, all Alpha and heat and growl.
"Oh kitten," he snarled, grinding into
so hard I swear I saw stars. "You want
to use that mouth? You want
to fill your pussy and then fuck the words out of your throat one by one? You want
to bend you over, tongue-fuck your cunt until you’re dripping down my chin, then flip you around and make you say thank you while I cum down your throat?"
"YES—oh my God—yes—"
"Say it louder," he ordered.
"I WANT YOUR CUM, DAMON!" I moaned, nearly sobbing from the intensity. "I WANT YOU TO FILL
UP—I WANNA DRIP ALL OVER THIS FUCKING TABLE—MARK —FUCKING BREED !"
And he did.
With one final, brutal thrust, he growled like a beast claiming a mate and slamd his cock so deep inside
I felt it in my throat, and then I felt it—
His cum shot into
like lava. I swear I felt it in my fucking soul.
"Look at you," he grunted, slamming into
again just to push it deeper. "Soaked. Shaking. Still talking."
He chuckled. Low. Dangerous. And he leaned down, tongue dragging along my jaw while my whole body stayed bent over like I was made to take this.
Then he whispered, "Daddy’s Naughty Little Girl"
And I swear on my life, he actually bit my shoulder.
Like teeth. Real bite. Possession. Mark.
And I fucking scread.
But then—
Right as his cock twitched again and I started to open my mouth to say sothing else filthy, his phone rang.
Like out loud.
Like on speaker.
And we both froze.
For half a second, neither of us moved.
He reached into his coat pocket with one hand, the other still gripping my waist like he wasn’t even human anymore, and when he answered, his voice ca out low, rough, still dripping with sex.
"What?"
There was silence.
Then a voice.
Shaky. Male. Terrified.
"Damon. It’s your neighbor."
More silence.
More dripping cum.
And then.
"It’s Camilla. She’s outside with a fucking gun pointed to her head" the voice said.
"What!"
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