Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 233

Chapter 233: Chapter 233

Lyra

I know y’all might be wondering..oh my God, how the hell can she even do this? Is Lyra suddenly a fucking stripper now? Is she so expert in seduction?

How can she possibly satisfy Damon with that swollen belly between them and milk leaking out of her tits like she’s already in heat for the next century? Isn’t she sore? Doesn’t it hurt? Wouldn’t the pregnancy affect her performance?

Jokes on you, baby girl.

Because this bitch was built for this.

And I an it..built. For. This.

Hahaha. Let

be so real right now. I’ve watched a shitload of porn growing up. Yeah. I said it. Don’t judge . Save the fake gasps and church-girl blushes, because at so point in your life, you were right there with ..scrolling through pages, finding the one that hit just right.

That one video that made your toes curl and your fingers slip between your thighs before you could even think about it.

That was . Over and over. I watched everything. Strippers riding like they were being paid by the stroke.

Girls gagging on cock with mascara running and drool pooling under their chin. I wasn’t just watching..I was studying. I was learning the rhythm, the grip, the angle of the hips, the bounce that made n cry and monsters like Damon fucking lose their mind.

I practiced. I practiced on pillows. On my fingers. On the edge of the bed while biting my lip and imagining it was him watching .

I’d grind against the mattress with my mouth open and my face buried in my own arm to keep from waking anyone up while I moaned his na into my skin.

So no. This isn’t so random last-minute performance.

This is my fucking mont.

Pregnant or not. Sore or not. Leaking or not.

I am going to make this Alpha lose every shred of control he has left. I am going to ride him like I’m the devil’s favorite slut and this is my reward for being filthy enough to earn it.

I am going to grind on his cock with my back arched, tits bouncing, belly curving between us, and milk spraying down my chest like I was made to be bred on stage in front of the gods.

I got down from the desk with the slowest fucking strut I’ve ever done in my life.

Not because I wasn’t sore..hell, I was wrecked. My thighs were shaking. My pussy was leaking. My tits were so full they ached with every bounce.

But I made it sexy. I made it a show. Because I knew he was watching. I knew his eyes were on every inch of my body, and fuck, I loved it.

I swayed my hips with every step, dragged my fingers down the sides of my thighs like I was modeling for sin, then cupped my tits and gave them a little squeeze just for him. Milk beaded from the clamps and dripped slow down my belly. I didn’t wipe it.

I kept walking.

"Oh Daddy..." I sang, voice breathless and full of fake innocence. "You really want

to be your stripper?"

I rolled my hips again and moaned like the movent turned

on and it did. It really fucking did.

My cunt clenched just from the thought of his eyes on , of him watching

perform like a good little Oga slut with swollen tits and a belly full of pups. I bit my bottom lip, tilted my head, and giggled like a fucking tease.

"You want

to dance for you? Shake this ass for you like I’ve been doing it all my life? You want a private show, Daddy?"

I turned around in front of him, gave him the full view, and bent slowly..so slow my pussy lips kissed each other on the way down and grabbed my ankles just to make the bounce even deeper.

My ass jiggled. Hard.

And then I made it clap.

Once.

Twice.

Then again.

I stayed bent, head turned, looking back at him over my shoulder with that ssy hair stuck to my face, drool on my chin, and the sluttiest smile I’ve ever worn.

"You like that?" I whispered, breath shaking from how wet I was. "You like seeing your little Oga bounce her fat ass after you knotted her full of pups? Look, Daddy... I’m still dripping..."

And I was. His cum was spilling down my thighs like honey. My folds were red and puffy and twitching. My clit throbbed with every sway of my hips, but I didn’t stop. I stood up again, slow and seductive, and walked the final step to where he sat like a god.

I straddled his lap.

His cock was hard. So fucking hard. It pressed between us like it had its own pulse. I didn’t even sit yet—I just hovered over it, teasing, grinding, letting the heat of my soaked pussy rub against his shaft without letting him in.

"You want

to dance on this cock?" I whispered into his ear, my tits pressing against his chest, warm milk leaking between us. "You want

to grind on it until I squirt again? You want

to ride it like a stage pole and beg for another knot, Daddy?"

He didn’t say anything.

His fists were clenched.

His jaw was locked.

And that cock? It twitched so hard I felt it jump.

I started to move. Hips rolling in small, slow circles. My cunt dragging across him.