Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 206

Chapter 206: Chapter 206

Lyra

"But I’m not gonna lie, kitten," he murmured, his hand sliding up my side like he owned every inch of my skin, "your tits are big now."

I blinked at him, still trying to co down from the panic he’d just soothed out of , and then my breath caught completely when he tilted his head slightly, licked his lips, and said—

"Can Daddy suck them?"

Oh. My. God.

I stared at him like he’d just asked to fuck

in front of the Moon Goddess herself. My mouth opened. My chest rose.

My nipples—those traitorous, sensitive, aching little things—hardened instantly like they were excited about the invitation. And for one hot second, I almost said yes. I almost lted right there in his hands and whispered please like the needy little Oga I always beca in his arms.

But then I rembered.

I rembered him smirking.

I rembered him making dumb jokes about biology class like I wasn’t standing in front of him sobbing about possibly being pregnant.

So I pulled back just a little. Just enough to pout.

And then I smirked right back.

"No," I said sweetly, blinking up at him with the fakest innocence I could manage. "You can’t suck them. Not after saying I overreact. That’s your punishnt. You get to look, not touch."

His eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth twitched—like he liked the challenge.

"You sure about that, kitten?" he whispered, his voice suddenly dropping into that low, husky, dangerous tone that made my spine shiver and my thighs press together without permission.

"Because I think you’re bluffing. I think you want Daddy to pull your dress down and suck those sore, heavy tits until you’re crying from how good it feels."

My breath hitched again. Instantly.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, and my eyes fluttered like he’d just breathed into my bloodstream.

"I think you want

to bite them," he continued, his hand sliding around to the front of my body so slowly it made

whimper. "I think you want

to leave teeth marks. I think your little Oga body is already leaking for it."

"Shut up," I whispered, but my voice wasn’t strong. It wasn’t sharp. It was barely even real. I was already shaking again, already breathless, already clinging to the fabric of my dress like it could protect

from the fact that yes, he was right. I was wet. I was aching. I was seconds away from begging.

"I think you’re going to let

do it anyway," he said, his voice thick and hungry now, his nose trailing down the side of my cheek. "Because you’re mine, kitten. And those perfect tits? They’re Daddy’s."

And then he went further.

Because of course he did.

He doesn’t stop when I’m trembling. He doesn’t stop when I’m trying to hold myself together. He waits for it. He feeds on it. And once he sees that little crack in my voice, that stutter in my breath, that squeeze of my thighs—he goes straight for the kill.

"You know what I think, kitten?" he whispered, and his mouth was right at my ear now. His breath sent a full-body tremble down my spine. "I think they’re already swollen because your body’s preparing. It knows. Your tits are getting ready for our pup."

I gasped.

Not softly.

Not politely.

I gasped so hard my whole chest jerked. My hand flew to his wrist like I was going to stop him, like I was going to say no, stop, be serious, Damon please, but I didn’t say any of those things. Because the second he touched the curve of my breast, the second he gripped the weight of it and brushed his thumb over the sensitive top—I forgot what words were.

"I think they’re sore because your body’s getting full," he murmured. "You feel it, don’t you? That tightness? That heat? That need?"

"Damon," I breathed out, and it sounded like a plea, but I didn’t even know what I was asking for anymore.

"Let Daddy suck them," he whispered, his lips brushing my jaw as his hand slid back to the neckline of my dress. "Let

bite them. Let

worship them."

"No," I said, but it ca out too soft. Too wet. Too broken to an anything. "No. You can’t. Not after saying I was overreacting—this is my punishnt for you."

He chuckled low in his chest, and the sound vibrated against .

"Are you sure about that, kitten?" he asked, and his fingers didn’t stop. "Because your body’s saying sothing else."

His hand dipped lower, grazing the side of my breast now, thumb tracing just beneath the fabric like he was morizing the way it fit around my nipple.

"You’re shaking," he said, his voice dripping into sothing darker, sothing hungrier. "You’re blushing. You’re soaking through your panties, and I haven’t even pulled your cloth down yet. You’re going to tell

no while your tits are begging to be sucked?"

"I’m not—" I tried to say, but the words cracked apart before I could finish.

Because it wasn’t true.

I was shaking.

I was wet.

I was aching in places I didn’t even know had nerves.