Ch. 116..120: Breed Me, Daddy Alpha chapter 116-120
Favorite Sin 116
~Lyra
But then he said it.
“Well, I would have said yes,” Damon murmured, his voice rough and husky and sending little tingles straight to my toes. For a half–second, I smiled like victory was mine.
And then he finished.
“But that can wait, kitten.”
Wait.
Wait?
I blinked. My body didn’t even register it at first. I just lay there, frozen, eyes wide, lips parted like a confused little fish, trying to compute what the hell had just come out of his mouth. Damon Thornvale just said that
can wait. As in, boobs can wait. My boobs. You gotta be kidding me.
I slowly pushed myself up on my elbows, still dizzy, still achy, but now fueled entirely by dramatic disbelief
and a very strong need for answers. I stared at him like he’d grown two heads.
“Wait–hold on–what?” I said, blinking at him so hard I was starting to see stars. “Are you refusing me right
now?”
Damon lifted his eyes to mine. Calm. Unbothered. Like he didn’t just commit an act of war.
“I can’t believe this,” I continued, my voice already rising as I sat up straighter. “I actually cannot believe my
ears. Damon. Damon ‘I will bend you over the sink for breathing too loud‘ Thornvale is refusing to suck t**s.
My t**s. These tits.”
I dramatically gestured at my chest, cupping them like I was presenting twin miracles to a blind man.
“I’m sorry, are you feeling okay?” I asked, one eyebrow arched and my mouth halfway between a gasp and a
rant. “Did something hit your head? Are you concussed? Should I call a doctor? Because the man I know–the
one who f***s like he invented dominance and touches me like he’s starving–would never pass up an
invitation like that.”
“I can’t believe this,” I gasped, placing a hand dramatically on my chest like I was in the middle of a
telenovela. “I actually cannot believe my ears. “Do you need help? Are you ill? Should I check your
temperature? Blink twice if you’re possessed.”
I wasn’t done. Oh no.
“In fact,” I said, sitting up straighter like I was about to deliver a full TED Talk, “I feel personally disrespected on behalf of my n*****s. They’ve been through a lot. Trauma. Frostbite. Emotional betrayal. And now y telling me they don’t even get a kiss goodnight? Wow. Incredible. Cancel the wedding. Tell the Moon Goddess I want a divorce.”
He had the nerve to smirk.
That sexy, annoying little curl of his lip that meant he was enjoying this. He loved when I spiraled. He thought it was cute. Which only made me spiral harder.
Stop Teasing Me Kitten
“I am a generous, giving, emotionally available Omega,” I continued, waving a hand like I was listing my qualifications on a reality dating show. “I offer you my heart. My soul. My very delicious boobs. And you say wait? What next? You gonna tell me we should ‘talk about our feelings‘ first and take a walk under the stars like we’re in a Nicholas Sparks movie?”
“No, no, kitten,” he said quickly. “It’s not like I’m refusing. Trust me, I want to. I really, really want to
“Then what’s the hold–up, Mr. Muscle Daddy?” I asked, hands on hips, eyes narrowed. “Because I’m two seconds away from writing a complaint letter to the Council of Alphas”
He sighed–sighed, like I was the exhausting one here–then moved to sit up beside me. His eyes were serious now, and his voice dropped low.
“Remember the pregnancy test?”
My mouth closed.
My drama paused.
Oh.
Right.
That.
“Yes, kitten,” he said, gently now, his voice smoothing over my nerves like warm honey. “I thought instead of taking you out of this bed to go hunt for a pregnancy test after everything, it would be better if the pack
doctor came here to check you out.”
My heart stuttered.
“She’s already on her way,” he added, reaching for my hand and squeezing it softly, like he knew I was about to go full meltdown mode.
“She’ll examine you. She’ll make sure the powder you inhaled didn’t affect anything. Not your body. Not the baby. She’ll run every test necessary. And once that’s done, once I know you’re safe and that the baby’s okay… you can have Daddy all to yourself.”
I swear, the way he said it almost made me forget how to breathe. Like, the room could have been on fire, the floor could have opened up and swallowed the bed whole, and I still would’ve been stuck right there- half–leaning into his chest, clutching his stupidly perfect hand, and trying to process the fact that Damon Thornvale just said I can have Daddy all to myself like it was a sentence meant for daytime conversations and not the start of a very illegal fantasy.
My mouth dropped open slightly. I stared at him like he had just offered me front row seats to the apocalypse and a lollipop.
just to be
“All of you?” I asked, blinking slowly not because I was innocent but because I knew exactly what I was doing. I tilted my head like I was going asking about taxes, not s*x, and fluttered my lashes
annoying.
He smirked.
That dangerous kind of smirk. The kind that starts with a lip twitch and ends with someone getting tied
to a headboard.
Stop Teasing Me Kitten
“Yes, kitten,” he said, and his voice dropped even lower like it was physically trying to crawl under my skin
All of me.”
Oh my God. Okay. What the hell was I supposed to do with that? My whole body reacted. Like my n perked up, my core clenched, and my brain said, Ma’am, this is not a drill.
And of course, because I’m eighteen and chronically incapable of leaving well enough alone, I opened my
mouth again.
“I saw this in a movie once,” I said slowly, dragging the words out like I was laying the groundwork for something deeply inappropriate. My fingers twitched with excitement. My smile curled up on one side. I knew I was about to say something that would either make Damon combust or pounce–and honestly, either was
fine with me.
His brow lifted. “Oh?” he asked, clearly intrigued but already suspicious of me. “What kind of movie, kitten?”
“The hot kind,” I said sweetly, then bit my lip in a way that was 100 percent intentional. “And I’ve always
wanted us to try it.”
He leaned in a little. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his jaw flexed like he was already fighting off ten dirty thoughts just to remain seated. “What exactly do you want us to try?”
“Cosplay,” I whispered, dropping the word like it was a sacred spell. “I’ll be the teacher… and you’ll be the
student.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me. And the way his eyes darkened? Yeah. That was
the moment I knew I’d won.
His fingers tightened slightly on my thigh, and he leaned in just close enough that his breath fanned across
my ear.
“You naughty little girl,” he growled against my skin, and the second those words hit my ear, my whole body reacted like it had been flipped on like a light switch.
My n*****s hardened through the thin fabric of my shirt, my thighs squeezed together without permission, and my spine arched the tiniest bit, just enough for him to feel how much I wanted him without me having to say another word.
But of course, I said more anyway. I always do. Because I talk too damn much, and clearly have no concept of shutting up when a sexy, dangerous Alpha is hovering over me with that look in his eyes.
I couldn’t help myself. I smirked. I dragged my fingers slowly up his chest, eyes locked on his like I was about to commit an actual crime and wanted him to watch me do it.
“I’d sit on the desk,” I began, voice smooth and sweet like honey that could drown you if you weren’t careful.” Wearing the tiniest skirt you’ve ever seen. Like, short enough to make someone fail a class just from looking at it. And it would ride up every time I crossed my legs. And I wouldn’t even fix it. I’d just let you stare.”
Damon didn’t move. But I saw his jaw tighten. That vein in his neck ticked. His breathing sh scary–calm way he does right before he ruins me.
in that
“And I’d wear glasses,” I went on, like I wasn’t already pushing my luck, “not because I need them, but because I want to look like I’ll ruin your life and grade your paper at the same time. I’d cross my legs like a lady but smirk like a w***e. I’d say, ‘Mr. Thornvale, can you explain why you haven’t turned in your assignment this week?‘ while I pop a lollipop into my mouth and pretend not to notice how hard you are under the desk
Stop Teasing de Katten
He blinked. Slowly. The kind of blink men do right before they bite.
I leaned in, whispering now, letting the filth drip from my tongue like I was built for sin. “And when you give me that stupid smirk and say something cocky like I was too busy thinking about you, Miss; I’d make you kneel. Right there, in front of the desk. I’d slide my chair back, open my legs, and tell you to prove your
devotion.”
Damon still hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t even blinked again. He was stone. Steel. Every muscle in his body coiled
tight like a bomb.
“I’d tell you you’re not allowed to stop,” I added, dragging my fingers down his abs now, “not until I give you an A+ and moan your name loud enough for the whole hallway to hear. And even then, I’d make you stay after school. For detention. You’d sit on your knees while I grade your performance with my thighs wrapped around your face.”
That was it. That was the moment he broke.
His hand grabbed my thigh, hard, fingers digging into the flesh like he was two seconds from dragging me across the bed. But he still didn’t move further. He just stared at me with fire in his eyes.
“Kitten,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl, “if you keep talking, I am going to forget we’re waiting for the pack doctor and f**k you so hard your ‘after school‘ fantasy becomes a week–long coma.”
I gasped.
And then, like the absolute chaos demon I am, I smiled.
“So you do want to do it.”
He exhaled sharply through his nose, the kind of exhale men do when they’re hanging onto their last thread of sanity. “You’re evil.”
“I’m creative,” I corrected sweetly, tilting my head and batting my lashes. “And also very committed to your academic success, Mr. Thornvale.”
Favorite Sin 117
~Lyra
“I’m creative,” I said with a grin that could’ve gotten me suspended from school and excommunicated from
church. “And also very committed to your academic success, Mr. Thornvale.”
I dragged my fingers slowly up his chest as I said it, watching the way his body reacted beneath my touch.
Every muscle in him tightened like I was pulling strings in all the right places.
His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened. His breath came slower and heavier like he was already imagining
everything I hadn’t even said yet.
And honestly, that just encouraged me. Because I could feel it in the air–that slow, dangerous kind of heat building between us, thick and heavy, the kind that makes your chest rise too fast and your thighs press
together on instinct.
But I wasn’t done. Of course not. I never am.
“In fact,” I continued, tilting my head and giving him my most innocent, most untrustworthy smile, “I think it’s really important for struggling students to receive… personal tutoring. One–on–one sessions. Private, focused, hands–on guidance. I’m talking the kind of close supervision that leaves bite marks and straight As.”
He still hadn’t moved. But I could feel the restraint in him like it was a living thing. His hand on my thigh was gripping tighter now, fingers flexing just slightly, and I knew he was holding himself back with everything he
had.
“I’d have you come to my classroom after hours,” I went on, my voice softer now, sweeter, even more dangerous. “I’d be wearing a white blouse, tight pencil skirt, heels–obviously.
“And I’d sit on the desk, legs crossed, glasses on, grading papers while you walk in looking guilty and hard
and desperate.
“You’d try to apologize for not paying attention in class, but I’d stop you. I’d say, ‘Mr. Thornvale, your behavior has been completely unacceptable. You’ve left me no choice but to discipline you.””
He exhaled slowly through his nose, and his grip on my thigh tightened again.
“I’d stand up,” I whispered, completely caught in my own fantasy now, “walk right up to you, and tilt your chin up with my ruler. I’d tell you to kneel. Right there. On the classroom floor. And if you hesitated even once, I’d say, ‘Do you want to fail, Damon? Or do you want to prove to me how badly you want to stay in this class?“”
His breathing had changed. He was staring at me now like he was two seconds from forgetting the entire world existed. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
“And once you were on your knees,“I continued, dragging my fingers back down his chest, “I’d sit back on the desk, spread my legs, and make you use your mouth until I told you to stop.
“And I wouldn’t say a word the whole time. I’d just look down at you, completely silent, grading you with my eyes. And if I was feeling generous, if you were obedient and eager and didn’t mouth off like you always do, I might just let you c*m when class is over.”
Damon didn’t speak. He didn’t blink. His entire body was vibrating now, not with fear or hesitation, but with pure, primal restraint.
Be A Good Student
“And,” I added, eyes wide and lips parted in fake innocence, “if you behaved for the rest of the week, I’d let you stay for extra credit. Hands–on exams. Oral quizzes. Maybe even a group project if you’re feeling brave
That was it.
That was the line that broke him.
He moved so fast I barely saw it. One second I was sitting smug in front of him, and the next his hand was wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest.
ད ན པ པ ག ག | | དེ དེ ན ག ག ག ད ག ད ན པ
His face was right in front of mine. His breath was hot against my mouth. His eyes were blazing with a hunger that made my whole body lock up and melt at the same time.
“Kitten,” he growled, voice rough and shaking like he was holding himself together with a thread. “If you keep talking, I am going to bend you over this bed, shove my c**k down your throat, and make you choke on your own detention fantasies until the doctor walks in and gets a full view of her Luna gagging on Alpha c**k. Is that what you want?”
I gasped. And not just a cute little oh–my–God type of gasp. I mean the kind that escaped involuntarily. straight from my chest like it had ripped itself out of my lungs. My mouth flew open.
My back arched. My thighs clenched so hard I probably gave myself a charley horse. Because Damon-
Damon Thornvale, the scariest, hottest, most emotionally confusing Alpha to ever walk this planet–just
whispered the filthiest thing I had ever heard in my life.
Luna gagging on Alpha c**k. That’s what he said. Out loud. With a straight face. Like it was a perfectly
normal Tuesday.
I just blinked at him, completely stunned. I was absolutely speechless for about two–point–five seconds,
which is saying something because I talk more than I breathe. My brain was glitching. My hormones were screaming. My p***y was already signing up for extra credit.
“You wouldn’t,” I said eventually, my voice breathy and weak and so unconvincing I might as well have
moaned it, I didn’t even mean to say it. It just tumbled out because I didn’t know what else to do with myself. “You wouldn’t. Not with the doctor coming. You wouldn’t do that.”
He didn’t smirk.
He didn’t laugh.
He just leaned in even closer, letting his lips graze my neck, his breath hot against my skin, and he said, “You
don’t think I would?”
His hand moved up my thigh, slow but firm, fingers dragging against my skin like he owned it.
He was so close now, his voice sinking lower, darker, like he was warning me and seducing me at the same
time.
My thighs instinctively parted. My chest rose too fast. My entire body reacted before my brain could catch
up.
“No,” I said again, but it came out wrong. Soft. Shaky. Desperate. I sounded like a liar and we both knew it.” You’re the Alpha now. You’re responsible. You care about me and the baby. You wouldn’t..”
“Ten seconds, kitten,” he cut in, his voice rough and deep and deadly calm. “Ten seconds to shut that smart little mouth before I f**k the teacher fantasy out of your brain and make the pack doctor walk in on her Luna
Be A Good Student
drooling all over Daddy’s cock.”
My entire soul left my body.
I felt it. I felt it float right out of my spine, up to the ceiling, look down at us, and whisper you’re so f****d,
before vanishing completely.
My p***y clenched so hard I saw stars. My n*****s hardened instantly. I whimpered, actually whimpered like
I’d just been hit with a spell.
“Okay,” I said quickly, throwing my hands up in surrender, which was hilarious because I was already trembling and struggling to sit still. “Okay. I give up. You win. I’ll be good. I’ll behave.”
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me, and his expression made my stomach flip. His eyes were
wild but focused.
His lips were parted just a little, and his grip on my thigh was still strong. I felt like I was being hunted while sitting perfectly still, trying not to get eaten.
“You’ll behave now?” he asked, his tone completely unreadable.
“Yes,” I replied, nodding so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. “I promise. I’ll be quiet. No more roleplay. No more teasing. No more bad ideas. I’ll sit here like a good Omega and wait for the doctor.”
He raised one brow, unconvinced.
To prove I meant it, I pressed my lips together, mimed zipping them shut, and then–because I’m extra–l fake–locked the invisible zipper, took the fake key, and threw it over my shoulder with flair.
I placed my hands neatly in my lap and gave him my most innocent smile like I wasn’t two seconds away from mounting him right there on the bed.
He stared at me for a few seconds that felt like an hour.
Then he leaned in and brushed the softest kiss against the corner of my mouth. His voice, when it came next, was low and full of something that melted me into a puddle on the spot.
“Good girl.”
I actually whimpered again. Full–body shiver. My thighs were already slick. My breath was already shallow. I was one more word away from combusting.
And then it happened.
Two sharp knocks at the door.
We both froze.
Neither of us spoke.
Another knock followed, calm and professional, followed by a woman’s voice.
“Alpha Thornvale,” she called softly from the other side. “I’m here for Luna Lyra’s checkup.”
And that’s when it hit me like a truck.
I was flushed. My legs were spread. My panties were soaked. I had just spent the last ten minutes trying to convince my Alpha to play detention fantasy roleplay while a literal medical professional stood outside waiting to examine my utérus.
I was one button away from full nudity. One breath away from begging him to shove his c**k in my mouth
and make me sob into his lap like an honor student.
And now the doctor was outside.
Ready to see if I was pregnant.
God help me.
“Damon, do not open that…”
But he already did.
The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in.
And she paused.
Oh my God. She paused.
She looked from Damon to me, and then her gaze dropped slightly–to my flushed cheeks, my messy hair, my half–unbuttoned shirt that was very much not hiding my peaked n*****s–and then back to Damon.
I smiled. I panicked. I folded my hands in my lap like I was a nun and not two seconds away from saying yes Daddy, I’ll behave into a pillow.
“Hi,” I squeaked.
The doctor gave a very professional nod, but I could see it. The knowing. That quiet, patient, I’ve–seen–it–all–and–you’re–not–subtle look. She didn’t comment.
She didn’t smirk. She just walked in with her bag like she hadn’t just walked into the aftermath of a crime scene made of lust.
“I’ll just need a moment to set up,” she said calmly.
I turned slowly to glare at Damon as he shut the door behind her. He walked back to my side, still composed like he hadn’t just promised to bend me over and grade my mouth.
“You’re a menace,” I whispered through my teeth.
He leaned down, brushed a kiss over the shell of my ear, and whispered, “Be good for the doctor, kitten.
Favorite Sin 118
~Damon~
The doctor is here. Now I know y’all might be wondering how I killed Camilla.
Well she’s dead. And no, I don’t feel guilty. Not in the way people expect.
You want to know if I feel good about it?
Way
The part of me tho. Just a little. Maybe I feel good that she’s gone. That her voice won’t be polluting the air
around my Omega. That she won’t get to put her poison anywhere near Lyra, or near the child growing inside
her.
But my wolf?
He doesn’t just feel good. He feels f*****g satisfied. Like a beast curled up next to a fresh kill. Like nothing else matters now that the threat is gone. My wolf doesn’t do guilt. He does instincts. And his instincts told him to protect Lyra, no matter the cost.
Now I have to figure out how the f**k I’m going to explain to Tasha why her mother has gone missing.
But that’s not what matters right now.
That is so far down the list of priorities I can’t even see it.,
Because the only thing I care about in this moment is the girl sitting here, flushed and trembling, her shirt slightly askew, her breathing shallow, her n*****s visibly hard beneath the thin cotton. Her name is Lyra. She is my Omega. My problem. My obsession. My girl.
And the doctor?
She’s here to check if the baby growing inside her is alive and well or if she is not pregnant.
There’s a knock.
“Alpha Thornvale,” the voice says gently through the door. “I’m here for Lyra’s check–up.”
Lyra stiffens. Her eyes flick to mine, wide and glassy. Her thighs press together, not to hide herself but to contain something, her wetness.
The arousal she’s been soaking in ever since she sat on my lap and told me in perfect, pornographic detail how she’d make me kneel for her in a fake classroom.
And now she wants to pretend she’s behaving?
She has the audacity to sit there like some innocent little student and whisper, “I’ll be a good girl.”
That sentence alone makes my c**k throb so hard it aches.
She’s not being good. Not even close. She’s drenched, needy, swollen between the thighs.
Her lips are parted, her chest rising too fast, and her eyes are burning with the kind of heat that tells me she
1
wants me to ruin her right in front of the doctor. She’s just too much of a coward to say it out loud.
I open the door.
The doctor steps inside with the air of
a professional who’s seen it all and won’t comment on any of it. But
Be Careful On How You 1.
her eyes scan Lyra in a single flick and pause.
They see the messy hair. The flushed cheeks. The half–unbuttoned shirt. The way she’s sitting a little too straight, a little too perfectly, as if trying very hard to look untouched.
The doctor doesn’t say anything. Just sets her bag down, pulls out her equipment, and nods toward Lyra with soft, practiced calm.
The moment the doctor’s gloved fingers pressed against Lyra’s breast, I saw it.
The change.
The shift in her posture.
The breath that caught in her throat.
Her n*****s hardened instantly beneath the thin fabric of her blouse.
Not because of the cold.
Not because she was startled.
But because the nerves in her breast were awake now, and her body..mine, every inch of it mine..was
responding.
Responding to someone else’s hand.
The female doctor’s touch wasn’t intimate. It was clinical, detached.
She didn’t mean anything by it. But Lyra’s Omega instincts didn’t care about that. Her body was soft, swollen,
sensitized from being bred.
Her skin remembered every time I had taken her apart with my mouth, every time I had sucked her n*****s until she screamed, every time I had f****d her so deep her chest bounced and her t**s begged for attention.
And now?
That same body was reacting in front of me. Her n*****s were pushing against her shirt like they wanted to
be sucked.
She was aroused.
From a f*****g breast exam.
And then the doctor made it worse.
She pulled back slightly, narrowed her eyes as if gauging Lyra’s physical state, and said it.
“Hm. Mr. Alpha Thornvale, would you excuse us for a minute?”
I didn’t move.
I didn’t breathe.
I laughed.
The kind of laugh that made people nervous. The kind that always came before something dangerous.
The doctor straightened at the sound. Her shoulders stiffened. She realized too late that she’d overstepped.
“Excuse me?” I said, stepping forward. “You want me to leave?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but I didn’t give her the chance
“You do realize she’s my Luna, right?” I continued. “She carries my mark. My seed and whin knows mayhe
****** child. There is no part of her body you’re about to touch that hasn’t already been in my hands, under
my mouth, or on my bock.”
The doctor’s eyes widened slightly, but I didn’t stop.
“She is mine.” I growled, locking eyes with her. “Her slick, her scent, her f*****g moans they belong to me. Her
chest rises when I touch her. Her thighs tremble when I look at her. And her body every inch of it is a map I’ve
memorized in the dark.”
I leaned in one step closer, lowering my voice.
“There is nothing.” I said.
“that you are going to see here that I haven’t f****d, bitten, or filled.”
Lyra wasn’t speaking.
She was silent.
Still.
Breathing fast, skin flushed and her cheeks were burning.
She didn’t say a word. But I could feel her trembling.
Not with fear.
With arousal.
She liked this.
She loved this.
She loved the way I was claiming her in front of someone else. She loved the way I was growling about her slick like it was currency. She loved the way my c**k was throbbing beneath my slacks while I told a doctor
EVERTHING.
“I don’t need to be excused,” I said, my tone was final now. “I need you to carry out your job. And I will stand
right here while you do it.”
The doctor swallowed her reply, nodded stiffly, and turned back to Lyra.
She resumed the exam.
Her hands were careful now.
But I wasn’t watching her anymore.
I was watching Lyra.
And I knew what she needed.
She needed me.
She needed to be punished for letting another hand wake up her body.
She needed to be bent over the bed, blouse ripped open, ass shoved to the side, and taken so hard the imprint of my c**k stayed inside her for hours.
Be Careful On How YouT
She needed to cry out into the mattress while I reminded her whose slick she made.
Whose name she screamed.
Whose f*****g baby was in her womb.
And the second the doctor walked out of that room?
That’s exactly what I was going to do.
“Lift your shirt,” she said firmly, but not unkindly.
“I want to see your breasts bare. I need to examine you properly. This won’t take long.”
Lyra didn’t move at first.
Her breath caught. Her lashes fluttered. Her thighs shifted where she sat on the edge.
She looked flushed, trembling slightly, her skin already glowing pink from the inside out. Her fingers went still in her lap, as if her body didn’t quite know how to obey. Her eyes flicked to me.
She didn’t say it out loud.
But she was asking..Should I?
And I gave her the answer without a single word.
I stepped closer. I reached forward slowly and hooked my fingers under the hem of her shirt, dragging it up.
I pulled the shirt higher, over her ribs, then let it bunch above her breasts like a banner wrapped beneath her
collarbones.
Her bra was useless.
The doctor stepped in.
“We check the breasts early during pregnancy,” she explained calmly, “because the tissue changes quickly. Increased blood flow, sensitivity, swelling. You may notice your n*****s becoming firmer. That’s completely
normal.”
Lyra whimpered.
Her arms twitched, her fingers fisting the sheets on either side of her thighs. She wasn’t breathing properly
anymore.
I stood completely still.
But inside, I was breaking apart.
“You may feel some tenderness here,” she murmured. “And your milk glands might begin to swell sooner than expected, especially in bonded Omegas.”
The doctor moved to the second breast.
“I see your n*****s are already producing some fluid,” the doctor noted calmly. “That can happen in early pregnancy, especially in response to stimulation or strong emotional connection to the Alpha.”
Lyra moaned.
She tried to cover it with a cough. She tried to sit up straighter. But her body wasn’t cooperating. Her legs trembled. Her p***y was soaked. And her chest was on display, n*****s hard and weeping while a stranger
Be Careful On How You T
touched her in front of me.
And I lost it.
The doctor stepped back slightly, shifting her attention lower.
Her hands hovered over Lyra’s belly, then gently lowered. Her right palm rested softly just above Lyra’s pelvis, pressing with pressure against the barely–visible curve of her stomach.
She waited. Her hand stayed in place for several seconds, her brow relaxed, her fingers light.
Then she smiled.
“Congratulations, Alpha and Luna,” she said, her voice soft with certainty. “She’s pregnant. The vitals are strong. The baby is growing.”
Lyra turned toward me instantly, and the look on her face nearly knocked the breath out of my chest.
Her lips spread into a trembling smile. It was wide and disbelieving. Her eyes shimmered. One tear escaped down her cheek, and she didn’t even bother to wipe it.
Her mouth opened like she wanted to laugh, and for a second, I thought she might. I saw the joy. I felt it radiate off her. This was real. It wasn’t just a test. It wasn’t a maybe. It was happening.
She was carrying my child.
But the doctor didn’t move away.
Her smile faded slowly. Her brow pulled tight as she looked down again. She pressed her palm once more to Lyra’s belly, this time slower, deeper, like she was trying to feel past the surface.
I watched her carefully.
She said nothing for several long seconds.
Then she spoke.
“I want to check one more thing.”
She pressed her fingertips a little deeper into Lyra’s lower abdomen and angled them slightly left, feeling along the base of her womb. Her hands stopped as her eyes sharpened.
And then she said it.
“I feel something… off.”
My entire body stilled.
“What the f**k do you mean?” I asked.
The doctor didn’t look up. Her focus/stayed locked on Lyra’s stomach. Her touch didn’t move. She inhaled
once and fast.
“I feel something is wrong with the baby,” she said carefully.
Lyra’s whole body jolted.
Her expression shattered in an instant. The smile she wore just seconds ago vanished like it had been carved
off her face.
Her eyes went wide, her hands flew down to her belly, and her entire frame tensed with terror.
* Be Careful On Flow You T
“What?” she cried, her voice high and broken.
She shook her head as if the words could be undone, as if they could be shoved back into the doctor’s mouth and replaced with something else.
“What’s wrong with my baby?” she cried again, louder now, on the verge of panic.
“Tell me what the f**k is wrong with my child!”
Favorite Sin 119
~Lyra~
Something’s wrong with the baby.
No. No. No. No. No.
That’s not something you just say. That’s not something you say like you’re commenting on the weather or asking if I’ve been nauseous.
b
You don’t press your stupid, gloved hand on my belly and say that something is wrong like it’s just a normal f*****g Tuesday.
What the f**k does that even mean? What is wrong? What do you feel? Why aren’t you saying anything? Why are you pressing and pausing and blinking like you didn’t just rip my entire chest open with five f*****g words?
And why is Damon so still?
I can’t look at him.
I can’t.
I didn’t even know how bad I wanted this until she said something might be wrong.
I didn’t know how much I loved the tiny thing growing inside me until I felt my entire body curl inward, like I could wrap around my stomach and keep it safe just by thinking hard enough. I’d do anything. I’d bleed out for this child. I’d die if it meant keeping it safe.
“What’s wrong with my baby?” I screamed again. I was full–on sobbing now, the ugly kind of sobbing, with snot and hiccups and the kind of shaking that makes your fingers twitch and your throat close.
The doctor had the audacity to glance at me like I was the problem.
Like my reaction was too much.
Like I wasn’t allowed to scream and cry and fall apart over my baby.
I tried to sit up straighter. I tried to hold still so she could check better, so she could say just kidding or oh wait, false alarm, but my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I grabbed Damon’s wrist without even realizing it, squeezing so hard I felt my nails dig into his skin.
“Tell me,” I gasped, blinking so fast everything was a blur. “Please. Please just say it. Don’t pause. Don’t look at me like that. Just say what you felt. Say it fast. Say it all at once. Don’t stop. Don’t stop talking until you say it’s okay.”
I was rocking back and forth now, my whole body wrapped around my belly like I could will the baby to t safe if I just loved it hard enough.
I was eighteen. I didn’t know how to do any of this. I didn’t know how to be calm and patient and rational. I didn’t
know how to be quiet when my heart was in my throat and the only thing I could hear was something is
wrong.
“It can’t be dead,” I whispered before I could stop myself. “Right? You would’ve said that. You would’ve said it
1/6
Don’t SayThis To Mo
if it was dead. You wouldn’t let me sit here and scream if it was dead. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t Right?
Nobody answered.
That made it worse.
I looked up. Damon was staring at the doctor like he was two seconds away from tearing her f*****g throat out with his teeth. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought his teeth would crack. His arm under my grip was flexed, every muscle locked in place like he was holding himself back with everything he had.
And the doctor – she looked pale now. Like she realized this wasn’t just some clinical update. Like she realized she was sitting in the middle of a storm she couldn’t control.
“I’m not saying the baby is in danger,” she said slowly, cautiously, like she was choosing every word like it could explode. “I just need to perform a more detailed scan. What I felt… it could be nothing. It could also be a growth. Or a second heartbeat. Or an irregularity in the uterine lining. It’s not definitive.”
My mouth fell open.
“What?”
A second heartbeat?
A growth?
A f*****g irregularity?
That is not nothing! That is not a tiny little maybe!
“You’re gonna check,” I snapped, voice wild, desperate, half–choked. “You’re gonna f*****g check right now. You’re gonna do whatever scan, test, spell, witchcraft you need to do, and you’re gonna tell me exactly what’s inside me and why the f**k you said what you said. Because if this is just something you say to get off on the drama, I will scream so loud you’ll never work again.”
The doctor blinked. Damon didn’t even blink. He was too still. He was holding me now, both arms around me,
one hand spread wide over my belly like he was shielding it with his entire soul.
“You said second heartbeat,” he said suddenly, his voice low and shaking and dangerous. “Are you telling me
she might be having twins?”
I stopped breathing.
Twins?
What the f**k?
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
My brain couldn’t process that fast enough. I was still trying to understand the first baby. I was still trying to
understand pregnancy, mating, Alpha d**k, heat, and now you’re telling me there might be two?
Tears were streaming down my face but my brain was flying in fifty directions. I felt nauseous. I felt hot. I felt dizzy. I felt every possible emotion all at once.
“What if one of them is sick?” I whispered, voice so small it didn’t sound like mine. “What if one is okay and
the other one isn’t? What if one dies? Will the other survive? What if–what if-”
Don’t Say This To Me
“What if I’m too young? What if my body can’t do it? What if I did something wrong already and I didn’t even know it? What if my stress is hurting them? What if screaming right now is making it worse? What if lose one? Or both? Or all of them? What if I wasn’t supposed to be pregnant yet and now the universe is like HAHA, b***h, good luck surviving this?”
“Lyra,” the doctor said.
“I need you to calm down, okay? I know you’re young. I know this is a lot to process. But please. Listen to me It’s not only the second heartbeat I feel.”
I stopped breathing.
No, no, no, no, no–don’t do this. Don’t say something that’s going to ruin my entire existence. My eyes were huge, my nails dug into Damon’s forearm so deep I felt the skin give a little. I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe!
didn’t move.
The doctor took a breath and said the words I would never, ever forget for the rest of my entire life
“I feel four heartbeats.”
Four. She said four. Not one. Not two. FOUR.
My whole body went cold and hot at the same time. My stomach dropped so violently I thought I was going
to throw up all over the floor.
My brain couldn’t keep up. My mouth fell open and the only thing that came out was a high–pitched squeaky
sound like a baby bird being slapped.
“WHAT?!” I screamed, and I’m not even joking, it echoed. “What the f**k do you mean four?! Four?! What are you talking about? Four what? Four cells? Four flutters? Four mistakes? Because if you mean four babies, I swear to God, I will faint and die and haunt you for the rest of your medical career!”
The doctor blinked at me like I was a wild animal cornered in a cage.
I flung my hands in the air like I was conducting an orchestra of panic. “Are you saying there’s four babies inside me? Like right now? As we speak? Just casually hanging out in my uterus like it’s a group project?!”
She nodded.
She actually f*****g nodded.
“Oh my God,” I wailed, and I wasn’t being dramatic. I was being real. I grabbed Damon’s shirt, yanked him forward, and stared up at him with tears spilling from both eyes and my mouth fully trembling. “You did this. You. You put
four pups in me. I swear to God Im gonna f*****g kill you Damon. You said you’d breed me, not
drown me in embryos!”
He didn’t even blink. He was still just holding me, his jaw tense, his arms flexing like he was preparing to catch me when I inevitably passed the f**k out.
I started pacing even though my legs were noodles.
“This is not normal! This is not what heat s*x is supposed to do! I was supposed to get dicked down, have one surprise baby, cry about it, and then fall in love! That’s the romance plot! Not quadruplets!”
“Lyra-” the doctor started.
“No. Shut up. I’m talking. I’m eighteen. I didn’t even finish my college applications. I still use Hello Kitty
Don’t SayThis To Me
stickers in my planner. My mom still thinks I’m a virgin. And now you’re telling me I’m going to be the mother of four?! At once?! Do you know what that does to a
****g?! I’ve seen documentaries!”
“I need you to take a deep breath-
”
“Do you want me to die? Is that what this is? Are you trying to kill me with information? Because it’s working!” I dropped back onto the bed and started hyperventilating dramatically.
“My belly is going to explode. I’m going to be round like a pumpkin. No, not a pumpkin. A hot air balloon. I’ll be on the news. ‘Local girl gives birth to four pups, cries herself into a coma.”
Damon finally moved. He knelt down in front of me and grabbed my face between his huge hands, and for one second, just one, I thought he was going to say something sweet.
He didn’t.
He growled.
“You’re going to carry them,” he said, his voice so low and deep I felt it in my spine. “You’re going to carry all of them. And I will protect you. I will protect every single heartbeat inside you. You hear me, Omega?”
I blinked rapidly, tears pouring out of me like I was a broken faucet. “I’m small,” I choked. “I’m five feet tall. I
don’t even know how to swaddle a baby, and no
I’m going to have four? What am I supposed to do? Stack
them? Alphabetize them? Breastfeed them in rotation like a human merry–go–round?!”
His thumb stroked my cheek. “You’re going to be fine.”
“You’re going to have to oil me like a machine just to roll me out of bed. I won’t be able to see my toes. My feet are going to swell like balloons. Do you know how big I’ll get? I’ll be shaped like a watermelon truck! You
did this to me, Damon!”
He smiled.
That smug, cocky Alpha smile that usually made me want to sit on his face and scream.
But right now?
It made me cry harder.
Because he looked proud.
Like he was proud of the chaos inside me. Like four babies was some kind of sick accomplishment.
I grabbed the doctor’s hand, eyes wild. “Are they okay? Are they safe? Are they healthy? Are you sure there’s not a fifth hiding in there like some evil twin waiting for the big reveal?”
She looked stunned. And honestly, same.
“I’ll run a scan,” she said. “Right now, But their heartbeats are strong. Very strong.”
I blinked. “They’re okay?”
She nodded.
I burst into sobs so hard my shoulders shook and snot flew out my nose, and Damon just pulled me into his lap like I wasn’t a ticking time bomb with four heartbeats and a panic problem.
I was eighteen.
Don’t SayThis To Me
And pregnant.
With four babies.
And somehow, I was still horny. Please don’t judge me.
#
Favorite Sin 120
What’s Happening To Me
I spiraled.
“Oh my God. Oh my f*****g God. Why am I horny?” I cried, staring down at myself like my body had betrayed me in the most offensive, sluttiest way possible.
“What is happening to me?! This can’t be normal! I’m crying and pregnant and scared and probably going to die and my v****a is like, ‘Hey queen, now would be a really great time to get railed again. What the hell is wrong with me?!”
The doctor looked like she wanted to disappear. Damon looked like he wanted to take me up on it.
“No. Nope. Do not look at me like that,” I hissed at him, pointing a shaky finger at his face. “Don’t you dare do the growly Alpha thing. Not now. Not when I’m emotionally compromised and clinically insane. You think this is sexy? You think me ugly crying and threatening to name our babies Eenie, Meenie, Miney, and f**k–It is hot?
He smirked.
He actually smirked.
I gasped like I’d just been slapped with a dildo.
“I knew it,” shrieked. “You’re not normal either! This whole thing is cursed. I’m over here crying about stretch marks and baby carriages and you’re looking at me like you want to bend me over the examination table while the doctor holds a f*****g stethoscope to my belly!”
“Lyra,” Damon said, his voice low and rough, which was not helping, by the way, “your scent just changed.”
I blinked. “What scent?”
“Your scent baby,” he growled.
“Oh my God,” I screamed, and I tried to cross my legs but it was too late, I could feel it, my stupid p***y was soaked and my thighs were warm and I knew exactly what he meant. I was leaking. I was leaking like some Omega fountain of filth and pregnancy hormones.
“I’m disgusting!” I cried, flailing my arms dramatically. “This is wrong! I should be throwing up or fainting or making a baby registry! Not dripping slick all over your lap while we talk about quadruplets!”
“You’re not disgusting,” he murmured, his thumb stroking my lower belly like he was calming a wild animal.
“I feel disgusting! I feel like one of those girls in heat porn who moan while the doctor fingers them during a check–up! I feel like I should be in a video titled ‘Pregnant and Desperate–Omega Needs Alpha Knot After
Ultrasound Meltdown!”
The doctor cleared her throat and awkwardly took a step away from us.
I turned to her with wide, pleading eyes.
“Is this normal?” I demanded. “Am I broken? Is this some weird Omega hormone overload thing? Do I need pills? Therapy? A religious intervention?”
She looked slightly horrified but tried to keep it together.
What’s Happening To Me
“Pregnancy can heighten sensitivity,” she said, her voice as calm as possible considering I had just valled about porn. “Especially in bonded Omegas. The increase in estrogen, oxytocin, and endorphins during early gestation can cause elevated arousal and emotional Instability. It’s not unusual.”
I blinked. “So I’m not crazy?”
“No,” she said, clearly trying not to make eye contact with Damon. “Not at all.”
“Great,” I muttered. “So I’m just a sobbing, horny teenage Omega carrying four Alpha babies and leaking slick on your examination bed like some unhinged fertility goddess.”
“Basically,” Damon said under his breath, and I elbowed him in the ribs.
“I swear to God,” I hissed at him. “If you pull your c**k out right now, I will ride it.”
And then I blinked.
I froze.
My hands slapped over my mouth like I could shove the words back inside me before they stained the air forever, but they were already out there, floating, echoing in the room like the world’s dirtiest confession.
Damon arched a brow. That f*****g brow. The one he raises when he knows I’ve lost control. The one that
says, Oh? Say that again, princess.
d
“Wait..no, no, no,” I stammered, throwing my hands up and pointing frantically at him like that would erase
what I just said,
“Don’t look at me like that! I didn’t mean to say that out loud. That was my horny brain talking. That was the
Omega in me, okay? That was the s*x demon version of me that shows up when you get too close and
breathe through your nose like that and my slick starts leaking and I forget how to human.”
He didn’t say anything. His eyes just darkened.
“Oh my God, don’t smirk!” I gasped. “Seriously, you’re making it worse. Because now I can’t stop imagining it. You, standing right here in front of the doctor like
some Alpha god with your c**k out, hard, thick, veins pulsing, and me just climbing into your lap like á s*x–starved housewife with zero shame and too much milk swelling in her tits.”
The doctor made a choked sound behind me, but I was too far gone.
“I’m not okay,” I whispered dramatically. “Like genuinely, mentally, spiritually, sexually..not okay. Do you know what I’m picturing right now? You pushing me back on this exam bed, lifting my legs, pulling my soaked panties to the side and just sliding in while I scream your name so loud the nurses outside faint.”
Damon stepped closer.
I took a shaky breath and slapped my hand over my forehead.
“I want it,” I confessed, full–blown unraveling. “I want you to ruin me again. Right here. With the doctor standing three feet away and my body all puffed up and fertile and leaking.
“I want you to f**k me so deep I forget how to say the alphabet. I want to feel it, Damon. I want to feel your knot swell and stretch me open and lock me down so I don’t even remember what it was like to walk around
without your c*m inside me.”
I was panting now. Fully sweating. My legs were crossed and squirming. My thighs were wet. I didn’t know
What’s Happening To Me
how to sit still.
“I can feel my p***y clenching,” I moaned, like the w***e I truly am. “It’s like it’s begging for you. I can’t help it. My womb heard the word ‘four babies‘ and now she’s in full Omega heat mode like, yes Daddy, let’s double
down on the destruction.”
“Lyra,” the doctor said behind me, and her voice cracked a little. “… I haven’t completed the scan.”
I spun toward her dramatically, arms flailing. “Then complete it! Before I start begging this man to bend me over and breed me again like I’m a porn star in labor!”
She looked like she wanted to crawl under the bed and cry.
I turned back to Damon, eyes wild, voice breathy. “You have to help me. Or hurt me. Or f**k me until I pass out. I don’t care. Do something. Because my clit is throbbing. Like I can feel every heartbeat in it. I swear I can hear my own p***y breathing. She’s literally going ‘Damon… Damon… Damon… like she’s summoning you with a mating chant.”
I fanned myself with both hands. “I’m broken. I’m f*****g broken. I’ve reached a level of horny I didn’t even know existed. And I still have tears on my face! Like, what is this? Some twisted Alpha–Omega kink where crying and creaming happen at the same time?!”
Damon stepped closer. His scent washed over me like s*x and hunger and a hundred memories of what he did to me the last time I begged.
And suddenly, I didn’t care that we weren’t alone. I didn’t care that I was on a medical bed. I didn’t care that I was carrying four babies and had just screamed at a licensed professional.
All I cared about was the fact that I needed him.
Right here.
Right now.
“Please,” I whimpered. “Do something. Touch me, Push me. Pin me. I don’t care if I give birth right here on this
table. Just f**k me first.”
And that was when the doctor dropped her stethoscope.
I turned to the doctor, panting, eyes wild. “I am begging you,” I gasped, and it was not cute. I was full–blown
feral.
“Please finish the scan. Please. Because if you don’t, and he touches me, I will not be able to stop him. He could put me in a chokehold, throw me on the floor, and f**k me into labor, and I’d thank him for it. I need closure before I let this man rearrange my guts again.”
The doctor looked like she was deciding whether to scan me or call the f*****g police.
She picked up the stethoscope like it was a holy relic, cleared her throat with the exhaustion of a woman who had not signed up for this level of chaos, and said in the driest voice imaginable, “Please lie back, Miss Lyra. I’m just going to run the wand over your abdomen.”
I flopped back like a corpse in heat.
“Great. Amazing. Yes. Check the babies. All four. See if they’re twerking or planning their next life. Just do it fast before I hump this man’s leg and completely ruin your licensure.”
<What’s Happening To Me
Damon’s hand moved to my ankle, just a brush, just a tiny touch, but I gasped like i’d been electrocuted.
“Don’t do that!” I shrieked. “That’s how it starts! First it’s your hand on my ankle, then it’s your hand on my thigh, and before we know it I’m bent over this medical tray begging you to shove your knot in me while the doctor screams for security.”
He didn’t say a word. But his fingers flexed.
I whimpered.
“You like it,” I said, my voice breathy, scandalized, almost a moan. “You f*****g like this. You love me like this. Crying and leaking and terrified and still asking to get split open like a breeding doll. Admit it.”
He didn’t answer.
His eyes said everything.
Yes. He loved it. f*****g asshole.