Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Chapter 28.

~Lyra~

"This dress is too short"

His voice didn’t shout.

It didn’t need to.

It rolled through the room like thunder in slow motion. It was obvious he was fucking serious.

My heart dropped.

My throat tightened.

Because it wasn’t just a statent.

Tasha laughed like a devil in glitter.

"No Daddy it’s not" she said with that sugary sweet bratty tone she always used when she was testing him "this is what girls our age wear now you don’t want us looking like widows do you"

She twirled once like a spoiled little princess then shoved

forward like I was her personal offering.

"Just look at what I did to Lyra" she said proudly "look at her outfit isn’t she beautiful"

I stumbled.

The heels wobbled beneath

but I caught myself.

Barely.

And when I looked up.

He was already staring.

Damon.

Shirtless now.

Tattoos licking across his chest like they’d been carved by fire and possession.

Sweatpants slung low on his hips.

Whiskey in one hand.

Heat rolling off him in waves.

But it was his eyes that undressed .

That fucked .

That made

tremble from the inside out.

He didn’t blink.

Didn’t look away.

Didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring straight at my cunt.

Right where the sh stretched tight between my thighs.

My lips were pink and swollen and pressed against the fabric like they were begging to be bitten.

His jaw flexed.

His eyes darkened.

And then he took a slow sip of his drink.

Didn’t say a word.

Just kept watching.

Like he was already imagining how he’d take

apart.

Like he was already tasting it.

Tasha giggled again.

"You should thank " she said "she was gonna wear a robe"

He didn’t respond.

Didn’t even glance her way.

His attention was locked on

like a predator eyeing the only prey in a room full of ghosts.

He stepped forward.

One slow step.

Then another.

Until I could feel the heat of his chest.

The sharp scent of whiskey and sin on his breath.

The outline of his cock thick and heavy beneath the soft cotton.

He towered over .

And when he spoke again it was quieter than before.

"Upstairs"

Tasha blinked "what"

He didn’t repeat it.

He just turned his head a fraction of an inch and looked at her.

That was all it took.

She huffed.

Rolled her eyes.

And left.

Muttering sothing under her breath as she disappeared into the hall.

But I couldn’t hear her.

Couldn’t hear anything.

Because he was still there.

In front of .

And I was alone.

Again.

With him.

With the man who had dragged

into heat with nothing but a look.

With the man who hadn’t even fucked

yet but already had my body weeping for him.

He stepped closer.

His fingers brushed the edge of the dress.

Slid over my hip.

Around the curve of my waist.

Down to the bare skin of my ass where he gripped

and pulled

against him.

His cock pressed between us.

Hard.

Thick.

Fucking angry.

"This isn’t a dress" he said "it’s bait"

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t think.

He was touching

and I was unraveling.

He dragged his hand up.

Over my spine.

To the back of my neck where he fisted my hair and forced my face to his.

"You know what happens to bait little girl"

I shook my head.

Barely.

Trembling.

I couldn’t stop trembling.

Not with his hand gripping the back of my neck like he owned it.

Not with the heat of his cock pressed thick and pulsing against the ss between my legs.

Not with the sound of his voice dripping into my ear like venom and honey.

He didn’t move fast.

He moved like a man who already knew the ending.

Like a man who’d already broken

in his head a thousand different ways.

And was now deciding which one would make

scream the loudest.

He dragged his mouth along my jaw.

Slow.

Hot.

Wet.

His breath slid down my throat like the promise of sothing filthy.

Then he dropped to his knees.

Just like that.

Damon.

Alpha.

Father.

Killer.

Knelt in front of

like he was about to fucking worship.

Or devour.

His hands gripped my thighs.

Fingers spread.

Digging into the softness like he was asuring how far he’d split them.

I was already leaking.

Already clenching.

Already soaking the damn sh that barely existed.

He didn’t lift the dress.

He didn’t need to.

He bent.

Opened his mouth.

And licked straight through the fabric.

I cried out.

The heat of his tongue.

The scrape of his teeth.

The suction of his lips dragging along my soaked cunt through the sh.

I couldn’t breathe.

He groaned low.

Dark.

Like he’d just tasted the drug he’d been starving for.

Then he gripped the hem.

Fisted it.

And ripped the fucking dress up over my hips in one brutal motion.

My pussy was bare now.

Open.

Exposed.

Dripping in front of his face like an offering.

Like a fucking feast.

"Fuck," he growled.

"You’re soaked"

I whimpered.

My legs shook.

He hadn’t even kissed it bare yet.

He leaned in.

Licked

again.

Skin to skin now.

Tongue dragging up my folds.

Flattening against my clit.

Sucking it into his mouth so hard my knees gave out.

He caught .

Threw one arm around my waist.

Pulled

against his mouth like he needed it to breathe.

And then he fucking devoured .

No teasing.

No warning.

Just full-on sucking.

Lapping.

Groaning like my pussy was a curse and he was swallowing it to save his soul.

"Damon..fuck.."

I couldn’t finish.

He shoved two fingers inside .

Deep.

Thick.

Curved them.

Hooked them.

Fucked them into

like he was punishing my cunt for daring to look that pretty in front of him.

My eyes rolled back.

My mouth opened in a silent scream.

His tongue didn’t stop.

Circling my clit.

Sucking it in.

Flicking it with filthy expertise while his fingers stretched

open.