Ch. 101..105: Breed Me, Daddy Alpha chapter 101-105

Favorite Sin 101

~Lyra~

Oh my God.

Like no, seriously. Oh my f*****g God.

Did Damon just say that?

Did he really just stand there–broad and bloodstained and terrifyingly hot with those dark Alpha eyes still glowing–and announce to the world, to Camilla, to me, that yes, he had been f*****g me?

Yes, yes he did.

His eyes burned with that dark, possessive fire when he took a step closer, his voice dropping even deeper, viscous as molasses and twice as filthy.

“She has that trembling, desperate look in her eyes when I’m inside her–you know, that voice–cracking, breath–melting please don’t stop look?

“I grab her hips and drive in deeper until her walls clench around me like she’s a f*****g vise. And the sounds she makes? God, the way her throat tightens when I knot her…” His fingers trailed over my belly, dragging under my shirt so slow it made me quake, absolutely frictionless just off skin. “…she arches, bites her lip, and f*****g moans my name so f*****g loud she barely remembers hers.”

Camilla screamed, her voice splitting the charged air like broken glass. “Enough! Stop it!” She staggered forward, her voice raw, choking on emotion. “This is sick! You–this is wrong, Damon!”

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t stop. Instead, he tilted his head and smiled at me, lips curling like he was sharing a wicked secret only we understood.

“She’s dripping for me right now,” he said, softer, sharper.

My legs threatened to collapse, my body screaming for relief. My breath came in ragged chews. My voice trembled under the weight of all that raw filthy truth. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

He leaned in, lazy dominance lighting up his eyes. “She tastes like salvation. Like midnight rain. Like everything raw and burning wrapped up in one perfect, little Omega.

“And every time I slide in deep, leak inside her, knot her hot little body–1 claim her. I mark every damn inch. She’ll carry my pups soon, fill her womb with my bloodline–because she’s mine. All mine.”

Camilla sobbed–no, bawled–her words shaking. “This–it’s too much! You have to stop! She’s eighteen! You can’t–you–you’re f*****g sick!”

Damon pressed against me, jaw setting as he locked eyes on Camilla’s spiraling figure. “I’m not sick,” he said, voice low and unwavering.

“I’m perfect. Because I found my mate. Yeah, she’s eighteen, and f*****g perfect, and hers is the cent that turned this cold–damned world alive. She’s mine, Camilla. She belongs to me. And loud, filthy, private–I will f**k her tomorrow, the day after, and every day until the Moon stops pulling tides.”

c, or

Camilla screamed again, stumbling backwards in disbelief. But Damon didn’t stop. He pulled me in closet by the hip, brushing my hair aside, and whispered into my ear in a voice made of pure dominance:

Love And Dominion

“She sobs. She begs. She kneels. She breathes my name into her sheets and thanks me for every fee inch

I fill inside her.”

My heart raced so hard I thought it might stop. I wanted to cry. I wanted to moan. I wanted to run into his arms and dissolve into whatever filthy, beautiful thing he was making me become.

Damon tilted my chin up, catching my gaze. “Tell her, kitten. Tell her how badly you want this. How badly you

need me.”

And though I was drenched, trembling, almost drowning in actual need, I said it–swallowed every protest of

shame and doubt:

“I need you. I want you. I’m yours.”

His breath slid over my cheek like heat–wrapped sin, and the moment those three words left my mouth–I

need you–he smiled like the devil himself had taught him how to ruin girls like me.

“Oh, kitten,” he groaned, and it wasn’t soft. It was brutal, aching, possessive. He tilted his head, jaw flexing as

he studied every inch of my flushed, trembling face like he wanted to memorize the desperation wrecking me

from the inside out.

“You hear that, Camilla? She said she needs me. Not air. Not water. Me. The man twice her age who can tear

her open and still make her beg for more.”

His hand dragged down my spine with a lazy kind of hunger, dipping beneath the waistband of my shorts like he had every right to. My legs were shaking, cunt soaking, and I couldn’t even pretend to resist anymore.

Not when his fingers slipped just far enough to make me gasp, teasing the dip of my ass crack before trailing

back up with that sinful slowness that made my thighs quake.

“She’s soaked,” he said, like he was talking about the weather. “She’s clenching already and I haven’t even touched her p***y yet. Her body remembers what it’s like to be split open by me. Her cunt’s probably fluttering, begging for it, hot and needy like she’s wired for my c**k. And the best part?”

His mouth brushed against my ear, and I felt it in my f*****g soul.

“She likes that you’re watching, Camilla. Don’t you, kitten?” His voice turned syrupy and dangerous. “Tell her. Tell her how wet you get when someone sees me ruin you.”

I whimpered. It came out like a whine, breathless and broken. “I like it,” I whispered, meeting Camilla’s horrified eyes. “I like knowing you know what he does to me. That you can hear how I scream for him. I like

knowing you can’t do anything to stop it.”

Camilla’s mouth fell open, her hands shaking like she’d just watched someone bleed to death. “You’re not normal,” she whispered. “This is not normal. She’s eighteen. You’re–you’re a f*****g monster!”

Damon laughed. Laughed. This soft/cocky, low chuckle that sent chills down my spine because I knew what

was coming next.

he’s

“You want to hear something worse?” he asked, dragging me against him so hard I could feel his c**k, hard and thick and pulsing behind his zipper. “She begs for the knot. She sobs for it. She cries, not becau scared, but because she needs it. She needs me to stretch her open and tie her to me like a good little Omega.”

He grabbed my jaw and tilted it up, making me look at him while his thumb brushed over my lip. “Tell her,

Love And Dominion

baby. Tell her what you say when I knot you. Tell her how many times you beg to be filled

“1–I say please,” I stammered, my throat raw. “Please knot me, please don’t stop, please put your pups in me

Damon growled and kissed me. It was filthy. His tongue dominated mine, his teeth dragging over my bottom lip like he wanted to bruise it. My knees buckled. I melted into him, moaning into his mouth while Camilla sobbed behind us, broken and helpless.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against my lips, “You hear that, Carmilla? She wants to carry my bloodline. She wants me to fill her every f*****g night until her belly swells. She thanks me when I come in

her.”

I was gasping now, sweating, trembling, soaked. My n*****s were hard, scraping my shirt, and my panties felt like they were going to disintegrate from how wet they were.

And just as Damon lowered one hand to unbutton my shorts-

The door slammed open.

A high–pitched, drunken giggle bounced off the walls.

“Oh my God–your d**k is so f*****g big,” came the loud, breathy voice of his daughter, giggling again as she stumbled in, one heel hanging off, her lipstick smeared, her hand down the front of some guy’s pants as his tongue dragged across her neck. “You’re gonna rip me apart, f**k–I hope no one’s home-”

Her eyes landed on us.

And everything went dead silent.

Tasha blinked.

Paused.

Stared.

There was my shirt rucked up, Damon’s hand gripping my hip, my lips red and puffy from his mouth, Camilla crying in the corner like she’d just watched her worst nightmare unravel.

And Damon?

He didn’t even flinch.

Tasha’s voice cracked. “What the f**k is going on here?”

Camilla let out a sob, wiping her face with shaking fingers.

“Mum,” the girl said, voice turning breathless. “Why are you crying?”

And then she looked at Damon,

Her dad.

At me.

At the space between us. At the ruined look in my eyes. At the flush in my face.

Her voice dropped into something wild and shaking. “Dad?” she croaked. “what the f**k is happening here!”

And Damon?

Cove And Dominion

He didn’t let go of me. He didn’t even blink. His hand squeezed my waist, his eyes sharp and dark, and his voice came out like a knife sliding through silk.

“This,” Damon said, his voice deep and deliberate, sharp enough to slice open skin. “This girl right here is my mate, Tasha.”

Oh God.

His hand was still wrapped tight around my waist, fingers splayed possessively like he was gripping a príze he’d fought the world for. And his voice–f**k–his voice was calm, but it wasn’t gentle. It was brutal. Final. A

verdict.

“You and your mother need to get that straight into your skull,” he added, and I swear my stomach dropped

and fluttered at the same time. “She’s not some toy. She’s not a fling. She’s mine. My Omega. The one the

Moon gave me. The one I f**k until she’s hoarse and shaking. The one I knot raw, over and over, until her

p***y remembers my shape.”

Tasha just stared at us. Frozen. Like she couldn’t process what was happening.

And Camilla–oh God, Camilla snapped.

She let out this wounded sob and stumbled toward her daughter, tears streaking down her cheeks like rain

over glass.

“Baby,” she choked, grabbing Tasha’s arms, “he’s been f*****g her. He’s been f*****g Lyra.”

Tasha blinked, her eyes darting between her mother and me, her mouth twitching like it couldn’t decide

whether to drop open or scream.

“W–what?”

Camilla nodded like it physically hurt. “He’s been f*****g her for weeks. In this house. On the couch. In the guest room. In his office. She screams for him. I heard her. I heard her moan his name like she was being possessed.”

I wanted to speak. I really did. But my throat was tight, and my brain? Oh, f**k, my brain was spinning like I’d been thrown into a storm and all I could feel was Damon’s hand on me. Holding me. Claiming me.

Camilla kept going, her voice ragged and soaked in heartbreak. “He calls her his Omega. He says she’s going to carry his pups. He wants to breed her, Tasha. Your father’s going to put a baby inside her”

Tasha’s eyes slammed into mine.

And for a second I thought she might throw up.

Her gaze swept down to my lips–still kiss–bruised and swollen–then to my hips, where Damon’s hand was still gripping me like a brand, like he’d rather burn alive than let go.

And then-

She looked at her dad.

At his shirt, rumpled. At the hunger still simmering in his eyes.

And I saw it. I felt it. The moment her heart cracked in half.

“WHAT THE f**k?!”

 

Favorite Sin 102~Lyra~

“You’re lying.” Tasha said, and her voice didn’t even sound like hers anymore. It cracked halfway through the sentence like it couldn’t hold itself up, and her eyes–f**k, her eyes–were red and glassy and wide and locked onto me like I was the fire that just burned her entire life down. “You’re f*****g lying.”

་ ཆ ཅ ་ བ

And I just stood there.

Drenched. Flushed. Trembling. Wearing nothing but a ruined expression and Damon’s scent all over me like a

f*****g second skin.

His hand was still on me, glued to my waist like a brand, like he was holding me together and also warning the world not to touch.

And I couldn’t say anything. Not because I didn’t want to. Not because I didn’t have words. But because I had

too many. They were all trying to come out at once. All choking me.

“Say something!” she screamed, and I flinched a little not that I was scared. This wasn’t the Tasha who did

my eyeliner or shared her charger This was a girl who’d just realized her entire world was fake.

Her dad wasn’t the man she thought. And I wasn’t the friend she believed I was. I was the girl who moaned

behind her bedroom wall while her father made me scream into his chest. I was the girl who opened her

thighs when the house went dark. Well she gotta live with it now.

“Is it true?” she asked, voice lower now but so much sharper, like it could slice me into ribbons if I said the wrong thing. “Did you f**k him?”

I blinked.

And Damon–because of f*****g course he would–tightened his grip on my waist and said it first.

“She’s mine,” he said, calm as sin, voice low and,brutal and final. “She’s not just someone I f****d. She’s my

mate.”

Tasha froze.

I saw it. The way her chest locked up. The way her jaw twitched. The way her lip curled like she was trying to hold in a scream and a sob at the same time. Her hands were shaking, her eyes were wild, and then she turned on me again.

“You didn’t tell me,” she said. “You didn’t say anything. You just–what–f****d my dad behind my back like it

was normal?”

My throat felt like it was on fire.

“I didn’t mean to–Let me explain everything”

“Didn’t mean to?!” she snapped. “Oh my God, Lyra, what does that even f*****g mean?! Did you just trip and land on his c**k?!”

I gasped, my whole body flushing, not because she was wrong but because f**k, the way she said it made it worse. I had landed on his c**k. Over and over and over again. I had begged for it. Screamed for it. Begged him to knot me like I was nothing but his little Omega plaything. And now she was looking at me like I was

The Mate Bond

dirt.

My lips parted, but she wasn’t done.

“Is it because I f****d Marcus?” Tasha’s voice exploded through the room like lightning striking a soaked floor.

Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, her chest rising like her lungs couldn’t decide whether to collapse or scream again

.

Her fingers trembled at her sides like she wanted to tear something apart–maybe me, maybe the entire house.

“Is that why you’ve been riding my dad’s c**k like a f*****g prize you earned? Because you were mad that I got laid by him?! Is that what this is, Lyra?! Some twisted revenge fantasy you cooked up while I was sleeping upstairs?!”

I opened my mouth, but the words stuck in my throat like needles. I wanted to say no. I wanted to scream that it wasn’t like that, that I didn’t plan this, that I didn’t ask for the Moon to give me him, but I couldn’t.

Because every inch of my skin still burned from where Damon touched me. Because I could still feel the ache between my thighs from the last time he knotted me. Because I knew, deep down, that nothing I said would

matter now.

Tasha’s eyes snapped to me like she could hear my thoughts.

“Oh my f*****g God,” she spat. “You’re just standing there like you’re the victim while he’s groping you in front of me like it’s normal. Like I’m supposed to just stand here and smile while the girl who shared my bed, my clothes, my life, takes the one man who was never supposed to look at you like that!”

Her voice cracked. Her mascara ran. But her rage? It didn’t stop. It got louder. Sharper. Meaner.

“You know what? I don’t give a f**k if he’s your mate,” she shouted, her voice climbing so high it made my head spin.

“I don’t care if the f*****g Moon Goddess herself came down and tattooed his name on your p***y. I don’t care how sacred, how spiritual, how magical your bond is supposed to be. Because guess what, Lyra? If I walked in here right now and said my mate was a six–year–old boy, what the f**k would you say to that?”

She paused, panting, shaking, hands curled into fists like she was holding herself back from throwing them

at me.

“That’s exactly how this sounds,” she hissed. “You’re eighteen. He’s my dad. Do you hear yourself? Do you know how sick this sounds? You’re letting him f**k you raw and knot you and talk about breeding you like a f*****g b***h in heat and you think it’s okay because the Moon said so?”

I couldn’t breathe. My cheeks were wet with tears. My chest was tight. And still–my panties were soaked. My n*****s were hard. My cunt was pulsing like I’d just been touched again, and Damon hadn’t even moved. He

was standing right behind me, hand still warm on my waist, holding me there like a trophy.

“I get it,” Tasha said, and suddenly her voice dropped into something softer, something heartbreakingly bitter.

“I get that the mate bond is powerful. I get that it’s supposed to be sacred. Fine. Great. Beautif

give a f**k. Not when it’s him. Not when it’s my f*****g dad.”

I wanted to say something. Anything. But I couldn’t find the words.

ut I don’t

The Mate Bond

And she wasn’t done.

P

“You could’ve had anyone else, Lyra,” she whispered, her voice raw and broken now. “You could’ve waited. You could’ve said no. But you didn’t. You opened your legs and let him ruin you in the same house I grew up in. You let him f**k you while I slept in the next room. While I was busy living my life, you were too busy screaming my dad’s name into the sheets.”

“f**k I just remembered that blood I saw on his bed!! It was fuvking yours you b***h!!!!”

“My dad took your virginity. Do you know how disgusted I feel saying this”

The silence after that sentence felt like a blade.

And then she twisted it.

“Or do you want me to f**k your dad?” she snapped. “Is that what you want, Lyra? Should I ride your father’s c**k until I scream for him the way you scream for mine? Should I let him breed me on your kitchen table so you understand how this feels?”

My eyes filled instantly. My stomach twisted. My mouth hung open, but nothing came out. Because there was

nothing to say.

She saw it.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, stepping back like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “You like this. You f*****g like this.”

I didn’t deny it.

Because my face was flushed. My eyes were wet. My body was throbbing. Damon’s hand was still on me, sliding lower now, dragging up the hem of my shirt slowly like he couldn’t stop claiming me even as the world collapsed around us.

“You’re sick,” she breathed, and her voice didn’t even have venom anymore. It was hollow. Broken. Dead.” You’re not my friend. You never were. You’re just a cunt who smiled while you stabbed me in the back and let

my father fill you.”

And Damon?

He finally spoke.

“She’s mine,” he said, voice low and steady, like it was law. “She’s my Omega. And I will not apologize for claiming what’s mine.”

Tasha stared at him like she didn’t even recognize him anymore. Her eyes flicked to his hand under my shirt. To my flushed face. To the way my thighs pressed together like I was trying to stop the ache.

And then she laughed.

One sharp, bitter, humorless sound that ended with a choked breath.

“You both deserve each other,” she said. “I hope he f***s your body to pieces and leaves you to raise your little knot–puppies alone. I hope you choke on every drop of him.”

My eyes twitched. My jaw clenched. Damon’s grip on my waist grew tighter.

Tasha stepped closer, face wild, voice climbing like she couldn’t stop herself now that the dam had cracked wide open.

The Mate Bond

“You think you’re special because he comes inside you? You think you’re important because he knots you and whispers pretty lies into your ear while my mom cries herself to sleep?! You’re not a mate. You’re a toy. And he’s going to destroy you. And when he does, I’m going to f*****g laugh.”

I laughed.

It was short. Sharp. Cold.

And then I turned to her, eyes stinging, heart thudding, and said it.

“Shut the f**k up, Tasha.”

She blinked.

The whole room seemed to stop.

you to

“I’m done,” I said, my voice shaking from how hard I was holding it in. “I am done playing nice for understand. I’ve tiptoed around your feelings. I’ve cried over how much this would hurt you. I’ve bent over backwards trying not to make you feel like the world doesn’t revolve around you for once–but guess what?

I’m f*****g done.”

Her mouth opened. I didn’t let her speak.

“I don’t give a f**k if you’re pissed,” I hissed, taking a step toward her now. “Get this into your thick, dumb–ass skull: I don’t care anymore. Not about Marcus. Not about the fact that you can’t handle the world unless it bows at your feet. Your dad is my mate. He’s mine. And I’m not giving him up.”

Her face twisted.

“Oh, you want to know the worst part?” I said, breath hitching. “Even before summer, I’ve always been drawn to him. Before the Moon confirmed it, before he touched me, before he even looked at me like I was anything but the girl who followed you around like a shadow–I wanted him.

I used to dream about him. I used to wet my sheets at night thinking about his voice, his hands, his mouth. And the second I turned eighteen? The second I shifted and felt that pull? I let him have me. Every inch. Every scream. Every knot. Because I f*****g wanted it?

Her eyes widened in horror as the words left my lips, and for a moment time seemed to freeze.

Favorite Sin 103

Lyra

“What the hell?!” Tasha screamed, her voice cracking like glass under pressure. Her hands flew to her head, fingers clutching at her curls like she was physically trying to keep her sanity from spilling out of her skull.

“You’ve always been drawn to him? What the f**k are you saying right now?! You’re telling me you’ve been thinking about my dad? Since before summer? Since before you even shifted?!”

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t shrink. I didn’t fake another soft, guilty apology like I had anything left to give her.

I stared her dead in the face, trembling, flushed, wet between my legs, my heart pounding so loud I could barely hear my own voice.

“Yes,” I said, and my voice came out steady, sharp, and unapologetic. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

She looked like she was going to pass out.

“Are you hearing yourself?” she snapped. “You were just a kid. And you were getting off to my dad? What kind of sick freak does that, Lyra?!”

“You think I didn’t try to fight it?” I snapped back, taking a step toward her, my blood boiling, my thighs soaked, my shame turning into fuel. “You think I didn’t lie awake at night, hating myself for the way my body reacted every time he walked into a room? You think I wanted this? That I planned it? I didn’t. But the second I shifted, the second the bond snapped into place, it all made f*****g sense.”

Tasha laughed–short and sharp and bitter like broken teeth.

“Oh, it made sense?” she mocked. “That’s your excuse? ‘It made sense. Jesus f*****g Christ. You’re disgusting. You’re broken. You’re a little slut with no self–control and a god complex because your stupid scent made an old man hard.”

That one hit me.

Not because she was wrong.

But because she was too right.

And I liked it.

“I am a slut,” I hissed. “His slut. And he doesn’t need control when I’m already on my knees begging for his knot.”

“Stop it!” she shrieked, tears flying down her cheeks. “You’re talking about my father! The man who raised me! You’re standing here, saying you’ve been touching yourself to the thought of him since before I even invited you to this house!”

“I used to hear his voice from the hallway and get wet,” I said, trembling. “I used to picture what he’d do if I tripped in front of him. If he caught me coming out of the bathroom in a towel. I used to stare at his hands during dinner and wonder how it’d feel if he wrapped them around my throat.”

Tasha made a gagging sound, stumbling back like she was choking on her own spit.

“I hate you,” she whispered. “You’re evil. You’re actually f*****g evil.”

Forbidden Bondd

“No,” I said, and I smiled, slow and wild and wrecked. “I’m just not pretending anymore. You wanted me to be the quiet one. The weak one. The good little friend who sat on the sidelines while you got everything. Well guess what? I got him. The one thing you never thought I’d touch. And I didn’t just touch him. Het him own

me.”

“You’re not even human,” she hissed.

“Neither is he,” I whispered back. “He’s an Alpha. I’m an Omega. And I was made to take every drop of his knot until my belly swells with his pups.”

Her face twisted like she was about to scream again, but I didn’t stop.

I was on fire.

“I moan his name into your pillow,” I said. “I bite into his shoulder while he f***s me from behind on your couch. I ride him in the chair he used to sit in at your school award ceremonies. And the best part? I don’t feel bad anymore.”

“You’re going to rot for this,” she choked. “You’re going to f*****g burn.”

“Good,” I breathed. “As long as I burn with him.”

Tasha’s mouth fell open like she’d just been punched in the stomach, but I wasn’t done. I was so far from

done.

“You want to scream? You want to cry? Go ahead. But don’t stand there and act like you didn’t know

something was happening. Don’t stand there and play innocent when you’ve been ignoring every single sign

since the day I stepped into this house.”

She shook her head, lips trembling. “What the f**k are you talking about?”

“You noticed it,” I said, stepping closer, my voice rising. “You saw the way he looked at me at dinner. You saw

the way I blushed when he walked in shirtless. You saw how I fidgeted when he said my name. You saw everything–you just didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to think someone like your boring, stupid best

friend could be the reason your dad’s eyes lit up for the first time in years.”

“Shut up,” she said, voice cracking.

“No,” Lgrowled. “You shut up. I spent years shrinking myself to make space for you. I was always ‘Tasha’s

friend.‘ Never Lyra. Never enough. Just the extra. The backup. The quiet girl who listened while you bragged

about your boyfriends, your life, your everything. And now that I finally have something that’s mine–truly

mine–you want to scream and call me evil? You want to slap me because the Moon gave me something you

can’t have?”

She stared at me like she didn’t even recognize who I was anymore.

Good.

Because I didn’t either.

“You want to talk about Marcus? I laughed bitterly. “You think Leared when you slept with him? I didn’t. Not

because I was jealous. But because I knew no matter how many boys you f****d, no matter hov ny names you collected in your phone, none of them could ever compare to him. Your father. My Alpha. The one who looks at me like I’m the only thing that’s ever mattered.”

“You’re delusional,” she hissed. “You’re a f*****g Omega in heat, and you let it ruin your brain.”

<Forbidden Band

“No,” I snapped. “I let it free me.”

I stepped forward until I was right in front of her. My body was shaking. My cheeks were hot. My cunt was soaked. My heart was thundering so loud it felt like it echoed in my throat. And I didn’t care anymore if it was cruel. I didn’t care if she cried. I didn’t care if it destroyed us completely.

I wanted her to know.

“When he knots me,” I whispered, “I cry. I scream. I beg him to stay inside. I beg him not to pull out. I beg him to fill me so deep I can’t think for days. I thank him when he finishes. I wrap my legs around him and tell him i want more. And he gives it to me. Over and over and over again.”

Tasha’s breath hitched.

My eyes were glassy, my throat raw, but I kept going.

“You want to know how many times I’ve moaned his name in this house? You want to know how many nights I’ve bit down the pillow and came so hard I forgot my own? You want to know where he touched me the first time? Right here.” I grabbed my own breast, squeezing it through the fabric. “On the couch. With my shirt halfway off and his hand down my shorts. I came on his fingers while you were brushing your teeth.”

“Stop-” she whimpered, but I didn’t let her.

“Then he f****d me against the bedroom wall,” I said, eyes locked on hers. “He pushed me up, pulled my panties aside, and shoved his c**k so deep inside me I saw stars. And I loved it. Every second. Every thrust. Every knot. 1 loved it. I begged for it. I would do it again. Right now. In front of you.”

Tasha shook her head violently, hands shaking like she was about to lose control.

“You’re disgusting,” she whispered.

“No,” I said, “I’m just done hiding what I am.”

Her mouth opened to say something, but Damon’s voice suddenly growled low behind me, rough and final.

“That’s enough,” Damon growled from behind me, his voice low, brutal, and shaking the air like thunder. His fingers clenched tighter around my waist, like he was trying to hold me back before I went too far.

But I didn’t stop..

I turned my head, my eyes wide, my chest rising with sharp, ragged breaths, and I looked at him over my shoulder with the kind of heat that could ignite a city.

“No, Daddy,” I said, my voice sweet and venom–laced and soaked in fire. “It’s not enough. I want to make her understand. I want to make both of them understand exactly who the f**k I am.”

Tasha stepped back like I’d slapped her across the face with my words.

Camilla, still in the corner, looked up from her sobs, mascara streaked down her cheeks, lip trembling like I had just ripped her soul in half.

I turned toward them fully now, not hiding, not flinching, not trying to spare a single shard of their dignity. I stood tall, ruined and flushed and trembling from the heat still dripping between my legs, and I said it.

“I am his Luna.”

Tasha’s eyes went wide. Camilla’s breath caught. And I felt Damon behind me–his body stiffening, his fingers twitching on my waist like I’d just said something sacred and forbidden and true.

< Forbidden Bond

we thorns b

“You heard me,” I snapped, voice shaking with so much rage and heat I thought I might pass out from how alive I felt. “I’m not the quiet guest anymore. I’m not the scared little best friend. I’m not your pity project, or your backup singer, or your emotional punching bag. I am the Luna of this house. Your Luna. I am his mate. And I’m done acting like I owe either of you shit.”

“You think being f****d by him makes you powerful?” Tasha choked out, her voice wobbling like her knees

were about to give out. “You think letting him knot you makes you some kind of queen?”

“No,” I said. “Being his makes me powerful. Being chosen–being claimed, marked, bred–makes me exactly

what you’re too scared to be. And if either of you can’t handle that…”

I smiled.

Wicked.

Ferocious.

Dripping.

“Get the f**k out of my house.”

Yes, folks. I said my house. Because he made it mine the second he bent me over, pulled my hair back and

whispered

“Let them hear, baby.” And I did. I screamed for him like I was born for it. Like my cunt was made for his knot.

You can’t erase that.

They can cry. They can scream. They can fall to their knees and beg for the version of him they used to have.

But he’s mine now.

And I don’t share. So I’d advise you buckle up your belt.

And hell, while you’re at it, slide a hand between your legs and rub that desperate little clit you’ve been

neglecting.

Because remember that apology s*x? Yeah I think I owe Damon one.

Favorite Sin 104

~Lyra~

Camilla’s head snapped up so fast her earrings swung sideways. Her face was blotched with red and black from all the crying.

“Your house?” she repeated, and her voice cracked with disbelief. “Are you f*****g kidding me, Lyra?”

She laughed. It wasn’t real laughter. It was the kind that comes from losing everything in a single sentence and not knowing where to scream first.

“You’re a guest in a house I decorated, in a life I built from the ground up. You’re a stupid girl with a pulse and a heat cycle, and now you think a few orgasms make you the f*****g owner of this home?”

Her voice was shaking. Her fingers were curled into her blouse like she was seconds away from lunging at

me. But I didn’t flinch. I didn’t move.

“You think this is your house?” she demanded again, louder now. “You think taking a few knots makes you

queen of the f*****g kingdom?”

“I think taking his last name will,” I said, and I said it slow. So slow her knees almost gave out. “I think

carrying his child will. I think being the only woman in this house he touches, kisses, breeds–that makes it

mine.”

“You’re not his wife,” she spat.

“No,” I snapped. “I’m something worse. I’m his mate. And that means no matter how loud you cry or how hard

you scream, I’ll always belong here more than you.”

Tasha suddenly stepped forward, her face twisted like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap me or throw

up.

“Are you f*****g sick, Lyra?!” she screamed, her voice breaking in the middle like she didn’t even have enough

air to handle how furious she was. “I brought you here! I brought you here to spend the summer! To relax! To

get away from stress–now you are chasing me out of my house!”

I tilted my head.

And I smiled.

The kind of smile that wasn’t soft or nice or sweet. The kind of smile that hurt to look at.

“You didn’t bring me here,” I said, and I felt the words burn in my throat. “You were just the invitation. The

bond brought me here. Fate brought me here. The Moon Goddess brought me to him because I was meant to

belong here, not you,”

Tasha’s jaw dropped open.

And still–I didn’t stop.

“I am his,” I said again, louder now, panting, trembling, so f*****g wet I could feel it dripping. “I is Luna. The second I walked into this house, I felt it. The bond. The pull. The hunger. And you know wha… tried to resist it. I tried to be quiet. I tried to behave. But now? I don’t give a f**k who’s hurt anymore.”

Beyond Scent

Tasha’s eyes were glassy with rage.

Camilla looked like she’d forgotten how to breathe.

“I’m done apologizing for being what I am,” I said. “If you can’t accept that I’m the one he wants now–the one he f***s raw, the one he marks, the one he’ll breed over and over until I can’t walk–then get out. Both of you. Right now. Because this is my house. My life. My bond. My Alpha”

“You’re not even sorry,” Tasha whispered.

“No,” I said. “I’m proud.”

Those words came out of my mouth like I had been waiting my whole darn life to say them, and the second! did, something shifted in me. Something snapped in the room.

My body was literally shaking–my hands, my legs, my voice. I felt like my skin was made of sparks and my blood was boiling and there was so much pressure building up inside me I thought I might actually explode.

And honestly? I wanted to. I wanted to f*****g erupt. Because I had never felt so alive and angry and high on power in my whole eighteen–year life.

They both just stood there staring at me like I had grown horns, and maybe I had.

“f*****g get out now!” I screamed, and my voice broke from how loud it came out. I didn’t care.

“Get the f**k out of my house before I throw both of you out myself! I’m done! I am f*****g done! With the fake tears, the dramatic gasps, the whining, the guilt–tripping–all of it!”

Tasha’s eyes went wide. Camilla’s mouth fell open like I had just taken off my skin and revealed a monster

underneath.

And then Tasha lost it.

“DAD!!” she screamed, voice shrieking and raw. “Aren’t you gonna say anything?! You’re just gonna stand there like a f*****g statue while she throws us out?! What the f**k is wrong with you?! Is it because of her tight little p***y that you’ve suddenly gone silent?!”

She didn’t even get to finish the word p***y before it happened.

Damon moved so fast I barely saw it, and then smack. His hand came down so hard across her cheek I flinched even though I wasn’t the one who got hit. But it wasn’t just a slap.

It wasn’t some little warning pat. It was an Alpha’s slap. A dominant, claws–exposed, half–shifted blow that dragged across her skin and left a bright red scratch from the top of her cheekbone to her jaw.

She stumbled back with this broken, shocked gasp like the floor had just dropped under her feet. Her hand flew to her face, her mouth fell open, and she looked up at him like she couldn’t believe he had just done that.

And Damon–he didn’t look sorry.

Not even a little bit,

“You do not speak to me like that,”

he growled, and his voice wasn’t normal anymore. It was layered. Deep. Drenched in dominance and something wild. Something feral. “I have had enough of your mouth Enough of your spoiled brat temper. Enough of your tantrums and your disrespect and your f*****g entitl

Tasha whimpered. Her fingers were trembling where they cupped her cheek.

it.”

Beyond Scent

“I am not just your father,” he said, stepping toward her now like the room belonged to him and the air was bending around his heat.

“I am your Alpha. You seem to forget who the f**k I am when you raise your voice. When you test me. When you speak my name like I owe you something.”

Camilla was still frozen. Her hand covered her mouth like she wanted to scream but didn’t have the strength.

“My human self may still care about you,” Damon continued, and his claws were still out–sharp, dark, glinting in the light.

“My human self may try to protect you, may love you, may remember changing your diapers and walking you to school. But the wolf inside me?” He took another step. His eyes were glowing.

“The wolf does not recognize your face. The wolf sees a threat to his mate. The wolf would rip you apart for what you just said, and it wouldn’t even blink.”

Tasha was shaking. Her whole body was curled inward like she was trying to fold herself up and disappear.

“You heard what my Luna said,” Damon growled, his voice vibrating through the walls like thunder shaking the bones of the house. “She doesn’t want you here. She doesn’t want Camilla here. And what she says in this house is final. She is the Luna of this pack. Her word is law.”

I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until he said that. Luna. Final. Law. The words slid over my skin like lightning and lust and power, and I swear I almost came standing right there.

“I have several mansions,” Damon continued coldly. “You can pick one. I’ll have it ready before nightfall. But

this one? It’s hers now.”

Tasha let out a low, animal sound–somewhere between a sob and a scream–and then she looked at me.

Straight at me.

And in her eyes, I saw it. Not sadness. Not shock.

Hatred.

“You ruined my family,” she whispered, and her voice sounded broken now. Not from crying. From fury. “I swear to the f*****g Moon Goddess, Lyra–you are going to pay. You hear me? You are going to f*****g pay. Mark my words. Read my f*****g lips.”

I didn’t speak. I just stared.

She stepped forward again.

“We go to the same school, remember?” she hissed. “And you think this ends tonight? You think I’m done? You don’t know what’s coming. I’ll make sure everyone hates you. I’ll ruin you. You’ll choke on everything you stole from me. You’ll bleed for what you’ve done.”

And that’s when Damon snapped again.

This time, he didn’t slap her.

He grabbed her by the throat.

One–handed. His claws retracted just enough not to cut, but the grip–oh God, the grip–lifted her straight off the floor until her feet weren’t touching the ground. Her hands clawed at his wrist, her mouth open in a choked gasp, eyes wide and panicked.

Beyond Scent

“Don’t you ever threaten her again,” he snarled, and his voice was so deep it didn’t even sound like a man anymore–it sounded like a beast trying to hold back slaughter. “Not in my house. Not in front of me. Not with that tongue you used to call me father.”

Camilla screamed his name. Useless. Powerless.

“And if you lay a single finger on her,” Damon growled, still holding her in the air like she was weightless, “if

you touch a single strand of her hair, if I even smell your hate near her skin–I will forget you are my daughter. I will forget you were ever mine. And I will destroy you.”

Tasha was gasping. Her face turning red. Her legs kicking. Her mouth making these tiny strangled sounds

like she couldn’t breathe.

And me?

I was soaked.

Like dripping. Like my thighs were wet. Like I couldn’t tell the difference between heat and fear and arousal

anymore because watching him protect me like that made my body ache.

And I wasn’t scared. I was proud.

Tasha was still gasping, still cradling her scratched–up face, still shaking in Camilla’s arms like her bones

had cracked from the inside out.

And when Damon finally let go of her neck and stepped back, letting her drop to the floor with one last

choking breath, she didn’t scream again. She didn’t fight. She just looked at me.

Her eyes locked on mine.

And there was nothing left in them but pure, vengeful, silent rage.

She stared at me like she could peel me open with a thought. Like she wanted to skin me alive and wear my

heart as a trophy. Like every tear in her body had burned off and all that was left was hate.

And then she muttered something under her breath.

Too quiet for me to catch it completely.

She stood up slow, her body shaking, her hair falling into her face, and then she turned to Camilla, her voice

hoarse and hard and laced with acid.

“Let’s go, Mum.”

Camilla looked stunned for a bit. But she reached out, grabbed Tasha’s arm, and without saying another word

to either of us, they turned around.

And walked out. f**k finally.

I was still smirking, then–he spoke

Low.

Husky.

Hot enough to melt the floor beneath me.

“Come here, kitten.”

Favorite Sin 105

~Lyra~

“Come here, kitten.”

The second those words rolled out of his mouth, slow and deep and thick with that Alpha growl he knows

drives me insane, my thighs clenched so hard I swear I saw stars for a second.

My entire body responded instantly. My breath caught, my n*****s tightened against his shirt, and my p***y? My p***y pulsed like it had just been called by name.

But I didn’t move.

Oh, no.

I didn’t f*****g move an inch.

Instead, I stood there in the middle of the room, barefoot and flushed and soaked with the aftershock of war and lust and pride, and I stared at him with smile on my face that was far too sweet to be innocent.

“You want me to come to you?” I asked, letting the words drag out of my mouth like honey over a blade. “Just like that? After everything I just did? After I turned your ex into a broken sobbing mess and made your daughter cry in front of you like she was six again?”

He didn’t answer. Not with words. But I saw his hand twitch. His jaw flexed. His eyes darkened like he wanted to rip the walls off this house and throw me onto whatever was left. And that only made it worse. That only

made me wetter.

“God, you’re so bossy,” I purred, swaying on my feet like I was about to give in–only to pull back again.

“You stand there, looking all bloodstained and dangerous with your voice deep and your hand still twitching like you’re deciding whether to grab my throat or throw me over your shoulder, and you think just saying come here is enough to make me crawl?”

I took one slow step forward, just enough for him to smell me. I was dripping. I could feel it. My heat was back, flooding me like it wanted to ruin the floor under my feet.

The scent of it was thick in the room, mixing with his blood and my sweat and the fading trace of Tasha’s perfume that was slowly, finally, being erased.

“You don’t even know what it felt like watching you grab her,” I whispered, my voice thick with filth. “Wat your hand wrap around her throat. Watching her eyes go wide while you told her you’d forget she was your daughter. I swear to the f*****g Moon, Damon–I almost came right there.”

His fingers curled at his sides. His teeth clenched. His entire chest rose like he was holding back a snarl.

I took another step. But not close enough for him to grab me. I knew the edge. I knew exactly how far I could

go before he broke.

“You’re still holding back,” I said, licking my bottom lip slow. “And I don’t get it. You let me fight your family, you let me scream until my vojce cracked, you stood there and watched me tell them to get the f**k out of this house–and now what? You’re just going to stand there and whisper for me to come

to you?”

1 tilted my head. My voice dipped lower.

Beg Me Kitten

“Say please,” I said, pouting. “Beg your naughty little Luna to crawl to you. Or better yet… come get me

He took one step forward.

I immediately took one step back.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” I said, laughing breathlessly. “You like watching me run my mouth. You like knowing I’m standing here dripping under your shirt with nothing on, mouthing off like I don’t know you’re two seconds away from snapping and f*****g me through the damn floor.”

My hand slid between my thighs. Just the tip of my fingers. I didn’t touch anything deep. Just enough to gather the slick and bring it back up to my lips. I licked it slowly, dramatically, and then smiled.

“I taste like your f*****g Luna,” I said. “Do you have any idea how badly I need you right now? Do you have any idea how wet I got the second you hit her? I was standing here soaked and proud and f*****g buzzing for you while you made them leave.”

He growled. Loud. Sharp. The kind that made my n*****s pinch even harder and my breath catch in my throat.

Still, I didn’t stop as I pulled the shirt of my body.

“You’re still dressed,” I said, pouting again. “And that’s rude, Daddy. Because I’m right here, bare, soaked for you, and you’re just… waiting. Standing there like you’re not going to grab me and make me scream your

name until the whole pack hears me.”

I stepped even closer this time, close enough for his fingers to brush my waist–but I danced out of reach

again with a giggle.

“You want me to come here?” I whispered. “You want me to crawl to you on my knees and beg for your knot

while you growl in my ear and tell me I’m yours?”

I paused.

My voice dropped to a soft, dirty whimper.

“Then come make me.”

I didn’t want soft.

I wanted that thing behind his eyes to break.

So I circled him.

Slow.

One step. Then another. Like I was stalking him. Like I was the predator in heat and he was the prey–big, dangerous, and begging to be unchained.

I let my fingers drag across his shoulders. Down his spine. Over his arm where the muscle flexed so

almost moaned. I leaned close enough for my breath to tickle the back of his neck.

“You’re trembling,” I whispered, and my voice was dripping with it. Dirty. Breathless. Sweet like poison. “

Is it that hard not to grab me? You want to be good, don’t you, Daddy? You want to show me you have control.

That you’re calm. That you can handle a mouthy little Omega without snapping.”

I giggled. Soft. But it cut.

“But I know the truth,” I purred. “You’re one second away from losing it. You’re standing there thinking about

Beg Me Kitten

everything you could do to me and trying to be civilized. But guess what?”

I slipped back around in front of him, slowly dragging my hands down the center of his chest, stopping right

above his belt.

“I don’t want civilized.”

I looked up at him, my eyes wide and wet and wild, and I dragged one hand under his shirt, sliding my fingers

up his abs, nails lightly scratching over the ridges of heat and skin until I felt his breath stutter,

“I want rough,” I said. “I want the version of you that slapped your daughter and threw your ex out with nothing but a look. I want the version that grabbed her throat and made my p***y gush without even touching me.”

I pressed closer. Not all the way. Not enough to touch. Just close enough that he could feel the heat of me

through the air between us.

“Because I’m still wet,” I whispered. “Still dripping. thighs glued together, breathless, wrecked–and you’re doing nothing about it. And that’s cruel.”

His nostrils flared.

Good.

I licked my lips, dragged my hand back down his chest, slower this time. Teasing every button. Every line of

heat I could feel under the fabric. My voice dropped again.

“You know what I need, don’t you?”

He didn’t speak.

But I saw the hunger in his eyes. The violence shaking in his muscles. The grip in his jaw like he was biting

back a growl.

“You know I can’t go to sleep like this,” I murmured. “Not with your scent all over me and your knot still missing from my cunt. Not when I stood here and defended you with my mouth while my p***y was soaking down my thighs. Not when I told your daughter to get the f**k out and I was soaking wet the entire time.”

I gasped, softly, teasing my fingers under the hem of the shirt.

“I should be punished,” I whispered, fluttering my lashes. “Right? For teasing you? For mouthing off? For telling them to leave like I run the house? For falling for Camilla’s lies?”

I leaned up onto my toes and whispered against his lips.

“Or maybe I should be rewarded.”

The words left my lips like a secret I already knew the answer to. And I didn’t pull away. I didn’t bl. even breathe. I just leaned closer–so close our mouths almost touched–and I whispered it.

Slow. Dirty. Shameless.

didn’t

“I want your c**k in my throat first,” I said, and my voice was breathless, wrecked, all sweet seduction and

heat–drenched filth.

“I want to choke on it until my eyes tear up and my makeup runs. I want you to grab my hair and f**k my face until my knees give out and I’m drooling like a stupid little heat–drunk Omega.

Beg Me Kitten

“And then–when you’ve ruined my voice–I want you to bend me over, spread my thighs, and slam that knot

into me like I’m not even worth being gentle with. I want you to f**k me so hard I forget my name. I want your c*m in my womb, Daddy. I want to feel it dripping out of me while I sleep.”

I didn’t get to say another word.

Because that was the moment he snapped.

He moved so fast it knocked the air out of me. One of his hands slammed around my throat, grabbing me like

I belonged there, like I was nothing but his to break.

His palm was hot, wide, firm–his thumb pressed into the side of my neck while his fingers curled tight, and I gasped so hard it turned into a moan. My feet stumbled backward, but he followed, pushing me until my

back hit the wall and my whole body jolted.

“Oh my f*****g–Damon,” I gasped, my voice breaking as his hand held my neck tight, not enough to hurt but enough to make me feel it, enough to make my p***y clench like I was already full.

And then his other hand grabbed my breast.

Not softly.

He didn’t grope. He didn’t ease me into it. He twisted my n****e between two fingers so hard I cried out.

“f**k,” I moaned, arching into him. “f**k–yes–harder-”

He didn’t say a word.

He pinched harder.

Twisted it.

Rolled it between his fingers like he was punishing me for everything that had just come out of my filthy mouth. And the pain–oh God, the pain was so hot it went straight to my core. My cunt clenched like it was aching, like it was begging, like it would scream if he didn’t fill me soon.

“Daddy,” I gasped, eyes fluttering, back arching, “please–I need–f**k, I need it–your mouth, your c**k, your knot–I need everything-”

“You want to tease?” he growled, voice feral against my ear. “You want to run your little mouth and act like I won’t f**k the brat out of you.

But before I could speak again, before I could offer one more breathless whimper of please, he leaned in, eyes burning, voice a low growl that sank straight into my bones.

“Beg me, kitten.”