Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 71

Chapter 71: Chapter 71.

~Lyra~

Okay.

Okay, walk normal.

Just walk fucking normal, Lyra.

One foot in front of the other. That’s all it is. You’ve been doing this since, like, birth. Just... move.

Don’t limp.

Don’t clutch the wall like you just got wrecked in a closet by your best friend’s dad.

Even though that’s exactly what the fuck just happened.

Fuck.

I could still feel it.

His knot had finally popped free but oh my god, my pussy was still so stretched. So sore. So used. I felt ruined.

Like he’d turned my cunt into a sleeve that only fit his cock now. Like I couldn’t close my legs properly. Like my body hadn’t realized the sex was over.

I was leaking.

Leaking.

I could feel his cum sliding down the inside of my thigh with every. single. step.

It was hot.

Wet.

Sticky.

Fucking endless.

Like his cock hadn’t just knotted , but claid my womb and decided to stay.

I wasn’t wearing panties. I couldn’t. I tried to put them back on after he told

to clean up and leave first, but they stuck. Literally got stuck to my slit. Because there was so much of him inside

I couldn’t even close.

And yeah, I grabbed his shirt.

So now I was barefoot, walking down the hallway in Damon fucking Thornvale’s black button-down, no bra, tits aching, thighs trembling, and his cum dripping down my legs like a slutty trail marking every step I took.

I looked like I’d been fucked raw.

Which I had.

Oh my god.

He knotted .

Like actually knotted . Like so possessive, feral, psycho Alpha Daddy —wait. That’s exactly what he is.

That’s literally what just happened. I got knotted by my best friend’s dad like so fucktoy in heat and now I’m waddling down the hallway like I gave birth to a bear.

What the fuck is wrong with .

Why do I feel so full?

My pussy was aching. My clit was throbbing. My entire lower body felt like it had been put in a blender set to ’orgasm’ and left on overnight.

And my brain?

Yeah.

Gone.

Dead.

Fried.

All I could think about was the way he’d looked at

while I was falling apart around his cock. That lazy, cruel smirk on his face. The way he whispered "you’re mine now" while his knot locked in place and I scread into his chest.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My thighs were literally sticking together.

I felt like a sex cri walking.

Like if soone saw

right now, they’d call the police.

Hell, maybe they should.

Because I had just let my best friend’s dad shove

in a closet, strip

naked, make

co on his tongue, finger

until I forgot my na, then slam into my virgin pussy until I scread so loud we almost got caught.

And then he knotted .

He bred .

I an.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

Who does that? Who lives through that and just walks to their room like they’re normal?

, apparently.

I snuck past the living room. Didn’t even look to see if Tasha was there. If she saw

now? I’d die. No, like, actually collapse and shrivel into a horny little corpse and die.

Because how the fuck do you look your best friend in the face when you know her dad’s cum is still dripping out of you?

You don’t.

You walk faster.

You clench every muscle in your body and hope to the Moon Goddess that no more cum slides out before you reach your door.

And when you finally reach your room, you slam the door, lock it, press your back to it, and just—breathe.

Or try to.

I was panting.

Like I’d run a fucking marathon.

Or survived a war.

Or got ruined in a closet and walked out still throbbing.

Which, again, I did.

I got fucked in a closet by my best friend’s dad.

And I fucking liked it.

No.

Worse.

I fucking loved it.

I was almost there.

Just a few more steps and I’d be in my room. I’d crawl into bed, press my face into a pillow, scream silently, maybe cry, maybe masturbate to the mory of his cock stretching

open like I was made for it—no, definitely not. Maybe.

Shut up, brain.

I just needed to get to the door without dripping another fat glob of his cum on the floor like so untrained bitch in heat.

Because that’s what I felt like.

A dripping, ruined, slutty little..

"Bitch, where the fuck were you?"

I froze.

Literally.

Stopped breathing.

My heart punched straight through my chest and faceplanted on the floor.

No.

No no no.

That didn’t just happen.

Tell

that didn’t just..

I turned my head.

Slow.

Trembling.

And there she was.

Tasha.

Standing at the end of the hall, hair in a ssy ponytail, holding a cup of cereal in one hand and glaring at

like I’d just returned from robbing a bank.

"Hello?" she waved the cereal spoon. "I’ve been calling you. Where the fuck did you disappear to?"

My mouth opened.

Nothing ca out.

My pussy pulsed.

I was still leaking.

My thighs were glued together.

His shirt was hanging off my shoulders like a confession. Oversized. Black. Probably still slled like his sweat.

Oh my fucking God.

I opened my mouth again, hoping a miracle would fall out, but my brain was doing that static thing. The one where it just scread FUCK FUCK FUCK in all caps on repeat like a broken slut radio.