Ch. 1..5: Breed Me, Daddy Alpha chapter 1-5

Favorite Sin 1

I never intended to fuck my best friend’s Alpha dad. But I’d be a damn liar if I said I hadn’t fantasized about it.

Dreamed about it.

Tasted it behind my closed eyelids with my legs spread and my fingers dripping between my thighs.

Yeah. I know how that sounds.

I’m not sorry.

Because every girl has a first crush.

Mine just happened to be a man who could kill with his bare hands, command an army of wolves, and make my thighs tremble just by walking into a room.

Damon Thornvale.

Alpha. Billionaire. Beast in human skin.

And the man who made me cum for the first time without ever touching me.

I used to touch myself to the sound of his footsteps.

The deep rumble of his voice.

The way he said my name..Lyra..like he owned it. Like he owned me.

And maybe he did.

I was a bit younger the first time I came thinking about him. I can’t remember what age but I know I was fully aware of how I felt.

Locked in Tasha’s bathroom with the lights off, panties pulled to the side, my back arched and my face buried in a towel so no one could hear me moan.

I’d seen him shirtless that day. Just once. A glimpse in the hallway.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his chest rose when he breathed.

The cut of his hips. The way he’d looked at me..like he knew.

Like he knew I was already wet.

That I was already his.

I bit down on the towel and shoved two fingers inside.

I came in thirty seconds.

And then again.

And again.

I was addicted.

To a man twice my age. My best friend’s father. A god among monsters.

And I didn’t give a fuck.

Every summer I spent at Thornvale, I watched him.

In silence. In secret.

My legs always crossed. My panties always damp.

Because even as a teenager, I understood what Damon Thornvale was.

He wasn’t just off-limits.

He was forbidden.

Sin with a cock the size of my fucking forearm and a voice that made my pussy flutter.

He wasn’t mine.

But I wanted him to ruin me.

I didn’t want gentle. I didn’t want slow.

I wanted him to bend me over the dining table while the maids watched.

I wanted him to fuck me in the shower loud enough for Tasha to hear.

I wanted him to make me scream “Daddy” while he filled me so full I couldn’t walk.

I didn’t want to be loved.

I wanted to be used.

And now?

I’m eighteen.

Legal.

And back in the place that started it all.

Thornvale Estate.

Where the walls remember every wet dream.

Where the floors remember every barefoot sprint toward the room I wasn’t allowed near.

Where the scent of him still lingers—cigars, blood, sweat, and sex.

The gates closed behind me with a sound that made my spine stiffen.

Clang.

Like a coffin.

I clutched my bag tighter.

“LYRA!”

Her voice cracked the thoughts in my head

And then she was there..Tasha Thornvale, my best friend, in all her chaotic, sun-drenched glory. Blonde hair wild. Lips glossed.

Legs long and bare in tiny pink shorts that hugged her ass like a second skin. She ran down the steps barefoot, boobs bouncing like they were trying to escape her tank top.

My mouth dried.

Her tits were bigger than last year. Full. Round. Perfect.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

Of course she wasn’t.

Her nipples were hard from the wind and her grin was wicked.

“My Goddess, you look grown!” she squealed, grabbing me in a hug that smelled like perfume, pool chlorine, and secrets. Her tits pressed right up against mine. “You’ve got boobs now!”

I laughed. Blushed. Tried not to stare at the way hers bounced when she pulled back and threw her arms wide.

“What? Last year you were flatter than my iPad. Now look at you!”

She twirled in place like a drunk fairy, then wiggled her ass with a playful slap. “You’re gonna make my life hell, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” I muttered, heat rising in my cheeks as I tucked a curl behind my ear. But I was smiling.

Because for a second, it almost felt like we were still girls.

Still sneaking wine from the cellar.

Still peeking into forbidden halls.

Still pretending we didn’t know what lived behind that door at the end of the west wing.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the mansion. “Daddy redid the whole house. It’s insane now.”

Her tits bounced with every step. Her shorts rode higher with every swing of her hips.

“Like… leather couches. Marble floors. New guards who look like they fuck with their guns still strapped on.”

I blinked. “Sounds… intense.”

“You have no idea.” She tossed her hair. “Couches so deep you’ll drown in them. And the pool…” She stopped walking, turned, grabbed her tits, and jiggled them. “The pool is so sexy, it made my nipples hard.”

I choked. “Tasha…”

“I mean look!” she laughed, cupping her boobs and squeezing. “Permanent diamonds, babe. Daddy made it ‘aesthetic’ or whatever. Black tiles. Underwater lights. No rules. I gave a blowjob on a floaty last week. You’re gonna have the best fucking summer.”

Jesus.

Her laugh rang through the courtyard as she pulled me toward the looming black estate.

Thornvale.

Three stories of danger dressed in sharp angles.

There were guards by the door.

Big.

Unsmiling.

Watching.

I felt their eyes skim my legs. My chest. My face.

I didn’t look back.

Because I already knew where the real threat was.

Inside.

The front doors opened with a sound like breath being sucked from a grave.

Cold air hit my skin and made my nipples peak beneath my hoodie.

The atmosphere had a Mint. Smoke. Leather smell.

And something darker.

Alpha.

Him.

I clenched my thighs.

No.

Not now.

Not in front of her.

But Goddess, the house smelled like him.

Like his sheets.

Like sweat and sex and blood.

I followed her deeper. Past the chandeliers. Past the black carpets. Past the oil paintings of wolves with blood dripping from their jaws.

"This place isn't a house," I whispered.

She glanced at me over her shoulder.

"It's a fucking kingdom," I finished.

Tasha smirked. "Yeah. And Daddy's the king. Which means you better behave." She winked, licking gloss off her bottom lip. "Unless you want him to punish you."

My knees almost buckled.

She didn't mean it like that.

But my cunt clenched anyway.

She opened a door. "This is your room."

The space was unreal.

Creams. Silks. Candles. Big bed. View of the courtyard. Everything was giving luxury.

And that was when I saw him.

Through the window.

Sword hand.

Shirtless.

Muscles glistening in the sun like oil poured over rage.

Damon.

Alpha.

King of this fucking nightmare.

His body moved like a weapon.

Every strike of the sword brutal.

Every twist of his torso pornographic.

I bit my lip so hard it bled.

Then he turned.

And he saw me.

Our eyes locked.

Blue.

Fucking blue.

Like frostbite.

Like punishment.

And then.

He smiled.

Not warm.

Not kind.

But cold.

I stumbled back from the window like I'd been yanked by the soul.

My thighs were soaked.

My chest was heaving.

My panties were fucking ruined.

"Tasha..." I rasped.

She didn't answer.

I turned.

She was gone.

Gone.

Like the house had swallowed her whole.

And now?

Now I was alone.

With his scent crawling up my spine.

With my pussy clenching like it was begging for a cock I hadn't even seen yet.

With the ghost of that smile dragging me down to my knees.

I backed away from the window.

I needed to breathe.

I needed to change.

I needed to get my fucking fingers inside me before I screamed.

Because if Damon Thornvale didn't fuck me soon, I was going to go insane.

And the worst part?

I'd let him.

Gladly.

I reached between my legs.

Just to check.

I was dripping. Fuck that was fast.

And he hadn't even laid a fucking finger on me.

Not yet.

But he will.

Because this summer?

I'm not leaving Thornvale untouched.

He's going to fuck me.

Knot me.

Breed me.

Make me scream his name with tears on my cheeks and his cum pouring out of me in thick, endless waves.

And when it's over?

I'm going to crawl back for more.

This is not a story.

This is a warning.

You're about to enter a world where girls get on their knees for their best friend's Daddy and beg to be used like filthy, desperate sluts.

If you don't want to cum?

Put this book down.

Because by the time Damon's done with me?

You'll be soaked too.

~Lyra~ I sat at the edge of the bed like a f*****g ghost. Legs pressed tight together. Toes curling against the carpet. Eyes locked on my own reflection like I didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me. My skin was flushed. My cheeks pink. My n*****s hard enough to show through the tank top. And between my thighs? A constant, pulsing ache. So swollen I could feel my heartbeat in my clit. I looked ruined. Fucked. And he hadn’t even touched me yet. All he’d done was look. One stare from that balcony and my body turned to heat. One f*****g smirk and I’d nearly creamed my panties in the goddamn pool. I couldn’t stop seeing it. The way he stood there..shirtless, sword glinting in the sun, like some ancient f*****g god made of violence and testosterone. The way his eyes devoured me. No smile. Just hunger. Then that smirk. That promise. It was the kind of look that said he knew. What I smelled like. What I tasted like. What I’d do for him if he just crooked a finger. I should’ve looked away. I didn’t. I couldn’t. He had me already. “Lyra.” Tasha’s voice snapped through the silence. I jerked, blinking at her as she stepped out of the en-suite, towel clinging to her hips, droplets of water sliding down her bare t**s like pearls down silk. Her n*****s were perky and hard. Her t**s…fucking perfect. Plump. Upturned. Freckled with droplets. She looked like a porn star in a summer movie. “What are you even doing?” she giggled. “You’ve been staring at yourself like a serial killer for ten minutes.” “I wasn’t..” I cleared my throat, forcing my thighs apart a little, trying to cool the heat pulsing between them. “Just… zoning out.” Tasha rolled her eyes and dropped the towel with zero shame, standing there in nothing but a lacy pink thong while she rummaged through her drawer. Her t**s bounced with every move—bare, jiggly, happy as f**k to be seen. She didn’t care that I was staring. She never had. And Goddess, she looked good. No bra. No filter. Just long legs, smooth skin, and a rack that looked sculpted by the Moon Goddess herself. The way she bent over to grab a crop top made her t**s sway and jiggle like they were begging for attention. “You’re so weird sometimes,” she said, tugging on the top without a second thought. “But hot. So it’s fine. We’ll just say you’re the quiet, mysterious one and I’m the reckless whore.” “Tasha…” She spun, grinning. “What?! It’s true. I’ve got one brain cell and two amazing t**s. Look.” She grabbed them. Jiggled them. “Funbags, Lyra. Actual fun. And we’re gonna use the hell out of them this summer.” I laughed, blushed, and shook my head. She stepped close and smushed her boobs together like a sandwich. “Pool. Boys. Wine. Orgies…just kidding. Unless?” I choked. “You’re insane.” “And you’re coming with me. First, pool. Then ice cream. Then we f**k around in the wine cellar until Daddy catches us and grounds us like we’re still sixteen.” At the mention of her dad, my breath hitched. Tasha didn’t notice. She just slipped into tiny shorts…if you could call them that…and flounced to the mirror. Her t**s bounced the whole way. I stared at her reflection. Not at her t**s. Not really. At the ring on her dresser. His ring. Damon Thornvale’s Alpha ring. Thick. Silver. Heavy with power. My thighs clenched. She grabbed her sunglasses, tied her hair up, and looked at me. “You coming?” “I’ll meet you there,” I croaked. “Just need a sec.” She shrugged. “Don’t keep Daddy waiting. He hates that.” I froze. She winked. “Kidding.” And then she was gone. **** The red one-piece clung to my body like a second skin. Cut high on the hips. Low on the chest. So tight I could feel my heartbeat in my n*****s. I slipped into it with trembling fingers. No bra. No panties. Just wet skin and soaked fantasies. I didn’t even care what it looked like. I wanted him to see me. To smell the heat between my legs from a f*****g mile away. ** The pool was already packed when I stepped outside. Girls draped over lounge chairs in barely-there bikinis. Boys cannonballing off the rocks. Laughter echoed under the sun like sin having a party. The air smelled like coconut oil, chlorine, and teenage recklessness. But when I walked out in my red one-piece? Everything shifted. Eyes dragged. Whispers started. Thirst bloomed. Because the suit was f*****g good. Painted to my skin. High on the hips. Deep between the t**s. Thin enough that when I got wet, it turned f*****g transparent. And I wanted it that way. I wanted them to look. I wanted him to smell it. Tasha met me by the edge of the pool, t**s bouncing in a lime green bikini that barely held her in. Her n*****s were hard as diamonds under the thin fabric, and she didn’t give a single f**k. “Oh my Goddess,” she squealed, grabbing my hand. “You look so f*****g hot.” “You think?” “I think if my dad sees you in that, he’s gonna lock you in the basement and never let you leave.” I laughed…but my thighs clenched. Because that didn’t sound like a punishment. It sounded like a promise. Tasha spun and slapped her own ass. “Come on! Everyone’s here. We’re doing shots on the floaties.” I followed her down the stairs into the water, the cold slicing against my heat, my n*****s hardening instantly. It felt filthy. Like a tease. Like a f**k waiting to happen. There were at least six people already in the pool. Molly..black hair, big t**s, chewing her straw like it was a c**k. Her top was red and practically useless, her n*****s dark and pushing against the soaked triangles. Violet..curvy, thick, always pouting. Her bikini was gold. Her t**s floated on the surface of the water like soft s*x toys begging for hands. Sofia…tiny, tan, loud. Her string top was slipping and she didn’t even bother to fix it. Three boys were near the deep end. Big. Tall. Alpha-blooded. Practically naked. Their shorts clung to thick, veiny c***s that swelled the fabric. I couldn’t stop looking. Matteo…tattooed. Scar across his brow. d**k so fat it looked painful. Romano..quiet, broody, but packing a c**k that curved like a weapon, heavy enough to swing in his shorts every time he moved. And Nico..cocky as f**k. His bulge was massive. Thick at the base, fat at the tip. The kind that made your jaw ache just thinking about it. I swam slowly, feeling the water glide over my body like a stranger’s tongue. When I surfaced, Tasha handed me a shot. “To filthy f*****g summers,” she grinned. We clinked. We drank. The burn was nothing compared to what I felt inside. “I missed you so much,” she whispered, wet and drunk and glittering in the sun. “This summer’s gonna ruin us.” She pressed her lips to my cheek. Her t**s brushed my chest. Her fingers lingered. Then someone pushed her under. Chaos broke out. Splashes. Screams. Laughter. And in the middle of it? Matteo. He climbed out of the pool like sin rising from the deep. Water poured off his chest. His shorts clung to his thighs. His c**k bulged like it was trying to break free. My mouth went dry. Then Romano grabbed Violet waist underwater and pulled her into his lap. She gasped..loud. Slapped his chest. Moaned when he bit her shoulder. No one cared. No one looked away. Violet ground her hips against him, moaning louder, wet sounds echoing as the water sloshed. He pulled her bikini to the side under the surface. I could see the motion. His hand. Her twitch. She was riding his fingers. Right there in the pool. I turned to Nico. He winked at me. Then swam up behind Sofia and wrapped his arms around her chest. One hand palmed her tit. The other slipped beneath the water. She arched back against him with a filthy little moan. Tasha was laughing. Her n*****s poking out. Her legs brushing mine. And I was soaked. But not from the pool. I moved to the edge. Climbed up. Sat on the hot tile with my legs dangling in. That’s when I felt it. Him. The stare. My spine straightened. My n*****s tightened. I didn’t need to look. But I did. High above. Second-floor balcony. Damon. Leaning on the railing. Shirtless again. Cocky. Dangerous. Unmoving. Just watching. His eyes locked on me like a sniper’s scope. Like he could see my cunt clenching through the water. Like he could smell what was leaking out of me. I should’ve covered myself. I didn’t. I arched my back a little. Spread my knees just a hair. Let him look. I wanted him hard. I wanted him furious. I wanted him down here with his hand on my throat and my body bent over the nearest chair. The pool exploded with moans. Sofia was getting fingered hard now. Nico’s hand worked beneath the water while her head rolled back, mouth open, t**s bouncing. Violet was full-on grinding on Romano’s c**k. I could see it through the water. The movement. The tension. The way her t**s slapped against his chest. Her moans were real. Tasha laughed again, then swam toward me, breasts bouncing in the water, tongue flicking out to taste salt or s*x or both. “You okay?” she asked, grabbing the edge beside me. I nodded, barely breathing. Her hand found my thigh under the water. “You’re trembling,” she whispered. I looked at her. Then looked up. Damon was still there. Watching. Tasha didn’t follow my gaze. She didn’t know. She just leaned close. Her voice was a purr. “You want to be f****d so bad, don’t you?” I couldn’t speak. She dragged her fingers higher. Past my thigh. Under my suit. Straight to my p***y. I jerked. She didn’t stop. “I knew it,” she giggled. “You’re soaked. And it’s not the pool.” “Tasha…” “Shh,” she whispered, her fingers stroking. “Just for a second. Just let go.” And I did. I came with a whimper. A soft, broken sound that melted on the sun. She kissed my cheek and giggled again. “Told you this summer would ruin us.” And when I looked up? Damon was gone. But I knew..next time? He wouldn’t be watching. He’d be doing. And he’d make me come so hard I’d forget my name.

Favorite Sin 3

cousins and how she’d totally f**k Nico if he didn’t flirt with everything that moved. I didn’t answer. I didn’t breathe. Because my skin was on fire. And the only thing I could think about was him. Damon Thornvale. Watching me from that balcony like he already owned every inch of me. Like he knew I’d let him f**k me in the pool if he crooked a finger. Like I’d crawl to him…naked, dripping, on my knees..if he told me to. The house was quiet. Silent. But I could feel him. In the walls. In the air. In the throb between my legs that refused to die. I slipped out of bed, my breath shallow, my skin flushed. I grabbed a towel..not to use, just to look normal. And I padded barefoot down the hall. Not a sound. Not a creak. I reached the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Then I turned on the shower. Scalding. Steam curled around me instantly, fogging the mirror, kissing my neck, dragging down my spine like invisible fingers. I dropped the towel. Stood naked. And stared at myself. Nipples tight. Breasts flushed. Thighs glistening with arousal before the water even hit me. My p***y was already slick. So wet it clung to my inner thighs like syrup. So swollen it looked obscene. I stepped into the shower and braced my hands on the tile. Let the water pour down my back. Let the steam soak into my bones. But it didn’t help. It didn’t burn it away. Because my thoughts? They were pure filth. Daddy. That’s what I called him in my head. Not Damon. Not Mr. Thornvale. Not Alpha. Just Daddy. Because that’s what he was. The man who watched me like prey. The man who made my cunt pulse just by existing. The man I wanted to ruin me. I thought about his voice…deep, slow, the kind that slid between your legs before your brain could stop it. I imagined him behind me. Hot breath at my neck. Big hands on my hips. That voice…right at my ear. “You like touching yourself for Daddy, don’t you, little Omega?” My legs nearly gave out. I slid my hand between my thighs. And gasped. I was soaked. My folds throbbed. My clit pulsed like it was begging. I was tender. Swollen. Needy. One slow circle of my fingers and I almost cried. Another…and I moaned. My hips jerked. My mouth fell open. My knees buckled. I was f*****g desperate. I whispered his name. “Daddy…” The steam swirled. The water roared. And I didn’t stop. My fingers moved faster. Harder. I was panting. Whimpering. Dripping. “Please, Daddy…” Then. I heard it. A breath. Low. Rough. Male. Outside the door. I froze. My fingers stopped. My heart slammed against my ribs. My eyes widened. The water drowned everything else, but that sound? That breath? I knew it. I turned off the water slowly. The steam hissed. I grabbed the towel. Wrapped it around my soaked body. My thighs trembled as I stepped out onto the tile. The mirror was fogged. The room was hot. But I could feel the cold air from the hallway seeping in through the crack in the door. I reached for the handle. Pulled. The hallway was empty. But the floor? Wet. Huge. Bare footprints. Leading away. Slow. Predator’s pace. My cunt clenched so hard I whimpered. He’d been there. He’d heard me. He watched me moan his name and touch my p***y like a slut for him in the dark. And he’d walked away. Left no trace. No voice. Just a f*****g warning. A promise. I stumbled back to my room like I was drunk on him. My legs didn’t work. My breath wouldn’t settle. I dropped the towel. Crawled under the sheets. Naked. Soaked. f****d without being touched. And I couldn’t sleep. Every shadow looked like him. Every sound was his breath. And when I finally drifted off, curled on my side with my fingers resting against my cunt, I heard him. In the dark. In the dream. Low and rough and filthy. “Keep touching yourself, little Omega. Next time, I’ll do it for you. And I won’t stop until that tight little cunt breaks open around Daddy’s cock.” I came in my sleep. Loud. Soaked. Twisting in the sheets, whimpering like a girl who didn’t stand a chance. And when I woke up, I could still feel him. Everywhere. *** I didn’t leave my room the next morning. Couldn’t. Not after what happened. Not after waking up with the sheets soaked in my own c*m, my thighs trembling, my fingers twitching with the memory of what I’d dreamed. His voice. His promise. That filthy growl in the dark. “Next time, I’ll do it for you…” I’d moaned for him in my sleep. Whimpered “Daddy” into my pillow like a little w***e begging to be bred. I’d c*m so hard I thought I was dying. And I hadn’t even touched myself yet. He’d broken me from outside the room. Without laying a finger on me. That kind of power? It changed something inside me. I belonged to him now. Not officially. Not publicly. But in all the ways that mattered. He had my thoughts. He had my body. He had my f*****g soul. The hours passed in silence. I didn’t eat. Didn’t dress. I just sat in the bed, naked under the covers, pressing my thighs together and replaying it. The way the bathroom door creaked. The wet footprints. The way the mirror had fogged like he was right behind me, breathing down my neck while I fell apart. Every second made my clit throb. I didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Until the sun dropped below the trees and the house fell quiet again. Tasha was passed out in the other room, drooling into her pillow, still wearing her bikini bottoms and nothing else. She’d muttered something about Moscato and pool boys before her face hit the mattress. I waited. Watched the shadows stretch across the walls. And when the silence settled? I moved. Slow. Naked. I didn’t bother with a towel this time. Didn’t bother locking the door either. If he was going to watch? Then I was going to give him a f*****g show. I stepped into the bathroom. The tiles cold under my feet. My n*****s tight before I even turned the water on. The mirror was still smudged from last time. My scent still lingered. And it was stronger now. Feral. Heat-slick. Soaked in need. I turned the water on full blast. Scalding. The kind of heat that should’ve melted the need out of me. It didn’t. I stepped in, braced both palms against the wall, and bowed my head under the rush of the water. And whispered… “Daddy…” My knees almost buckled. My p***y clenched. I was already soaked. Already dripping. My folds swollen. Sensitive. My clit throbbing like a live wire. I reached between my legs and groaned. Sticky. Slippery. Slutty. I rubbed slow at first. Fingertips circling. Teasing. Then faster. Harder. I moaned. “Please…” The water hissed. The tile steamed. And still, I kept going. “Use me…” I whispered. “Make me yours…” I imagined him behind me. Big. Silent. Furious. His eyes locked on my body. His c**k thick in his fist. Watching me unravel like a good little Omega b***h. “You like this, Daddy?” I gasped. “You like watching your slut fall apart for you?” My thighs shook. I dropped to my knees. Water pounding my back. Fingers slipping deep inside my cunt. I moaned like I wanted the whole f*****g house to hear. “Breed me…” I didn’t care anymore. “f**k me…”

Favorite Sin 4

I f****d myself hard. Fist buried. Palm slapping wet against my clit. Juices leaking down my thighs. And then.. The door creaked. Again. Slow. Louder this time. The air changed. I felt it in my spine. In my cunt. He was there. Watching. I didn’t stop. I spread my legs wider. Arch my back. Let my p***y open wide under the steam..wet, swollen, glistening like it was already f****d raw. My fingers stayed right where I needed them, rubbing circles over my clit, faster now, slicker. Every touch made my hips jerk. Every breath was a moan. “Do you see it, Daddy?” I whimpered. My voice cracked. My head dropped. My mouth fell open as I kept rubbing, faster, rougher, like I needed to rub the ache out of my soul. “I’m dripping for you…” My free hand moved down. Slid between the cheeks of my ass. I pressed my fingers deeper..past my folds, between the swollen lips of my cunt, until I was knuckle-deep in my own heat. I f****d myself. Hard. One finger. Two. Then three. I gasped. The stretch was filthy. Loud. Soaked. Water slapped the floor. Steam curled around me like a cloak of sin. And I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. “f**k… Daddy… fuck..” I bit my own lip to keep from screaming. The slick squelch of my fingers plunging into my cunt echoed off the tile like porn turned up too loud. And the door? It stayed cracked. A sliver of hallway showing through. Just enough for him to watch. Just enough for him to see his little Omega b***h destroying herself for him. I rocked on my knees, ass high, back arched, mouth panting. “Please come in…” I whimpered it like a prayer. Like a threat. Like an orgasm waiting to detonate. “Please use me…” I shoved my fingers in deeper. Faster. My palm slapped my clit. I cried out..loud this time. High. Desperate. Wet. My p***y clenched around my fingers like it couldn’t take it. And then I collapsed. Right there on the floor. On my side. My thighs twitching. My belly fluttering. My cunt leaking thick, creamy strings down my leg. I rolled to my back, chest heaving, my hand still between my thighs as I rubbed slow, soft, teasing circles over my overstimulated clit. I wasn’t done. Not yet. “Daddy…” I moaned again, breath shaking. I reached up with my other hand..cupped my tit, squeezed it, pinched my n****e until it hurt. And I pictured him. Standing in the dark. Arms crossed. Cock hard under his pants. Watching me like I was nothing but a toy that hadn’t earned the right to be touched yet. I rubbed again. My p***y clenched again. And I came… Hard. A second time. Sloppier. Messier. My back arched. My mouth opened in a silent scream. Juice sprayed across my palm. And still..I rubbed. My fingers were raw. My clit throbbed like it had been beaten. My whole body felt swollen with s*x. And when I finally laid still? When the orgasm stopped shaking me? I looked at the door. Still cracked. Still open. But he wasn’t there. Not visibly. But I knew. I f*****g knew. He’d seen it all. And when I opened the bathroom door… The hallway was still empty. But the floor? Wet. Again. Footprints. Huge. Bare. Leading away. Slow. Just like before. Just like he wanted me to know: You’re mine. And you’ll keep doing this…until I decide you’ve earned my c**k. I stood there, trembling, thighs soaked in sweat and c*m. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. I let it sink in. The humiliation. The arousal. The dark, spiraling obsession that had wrapped around my neck like a leash. And as I crawled back to my room… On my knees. Naked. Thighs soaked in sweat and c*m. Dripping on the floor with every move. I didn’t try to hide it. I let it trail behind me..my scent, my mess, my filth. A slick, wet path across the floor that said exactly what I was. A girl in heat. A ruined little b***h. A toy Daddy hadn’t touched yet..but already owned. By the time I reached the bed, I was shaking. My knees hit the mattress like a prayer. I didn’t climb up. I offered myself. Ass up. Face down. Spine curved like a leash was yanking me from behind. And I moaned into the sheets. Because they still smelled like me. Like need. Like desperation. But the pillow… The one I’d clutched last night? It didn’t smell like me anymore. It smelled like him. Leather. Smoke. That deep, dark alpha scent that made my thighs twitch and my p***y clench before my brain could process the arousal. I dragged it into my arms. Buried my face in it like I was suffocating in his chest. And I whispered… “Daddy…” My body trembled. My cunt throbbed. Juices smeared slick between my legs and dripped down to my knees. I rolled to my back. Spread wide. Stared at the ceiling like he was watching from above. And I touched myself. Again. Even though I was sore. Even though I was overstimulated. Even though my clit felt bruised and my cunt felt like it had been split open from the inside. I didn’t care. I needed it. I needed to c*m again. To break again. To melt under the weight of a man who wasn’t even there. My fingers slid between my folds. Hot. Sticky. So slippery I couldn’t grip anything. I circled my clit. Soft at first. Then harder. Then faster. And I whispered everything I wanted to scream. “I’m yours…” “I’d let you do anything…” “Please, Daddy…” I imagined his hand on my throat. His c**k in my mouth. His voice, filthy and low… “Good girl. That’s it. f**k yourself for me. Get that p***y ready.” I moaned. My thighs spread wider. My heels dug into the bed. I f****d my fingers like I f****d my fingers like they were his. Like they were thick. Calloused. Commanding. Like they could wrap around my throat and shove inside me at the same time. I shoved them deeper. Curled them. Twisted my wrist until I felt that swollen spot inside me, and pressed. Hard. “Daddy…” It broke out of my throat like a sob. My hips snapped up, f*****g the air. Fucking my own hand. Soaking my palm with every slick, dirty thrust. My clit was swollen. Raw. Screaming. But I kept rubbing. Kept moaning. Kept crying out like a w***e in heat. Because I wanted him to hear. I wanted him to know how far gone I was. I wanted him to smell the slick pouring out of me from down the hall and come drag me by the hair, bend me over the mattress, and ruin what was left. I didn’t want soft. I didn’t want gentle. I wanted to be used. I wanted his voice in my ear saying: “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, little Omega? To be Daddy’s cumdump. To stretch that cunt open until it forgets every c**k but mine.” I whined. Thrust my fingers harder. Slapped my clit with my palm until my thighs shook. “Please…” My voice was high. Broken. Full of tears. “Please f**k me, Daddy…” “I’m yours…please…please…” My legs began to shake. The orgasm hit like a f*****g car crash. No warning. No slow build. Just impact. My p***y clamped around my fingers. My hips jerked violently. Cum squirted out in thick, creamy gushes that soaked the sheets beneath me. I screamed into the pillow. “DA…Daddy…!” My body convulsed. My vision went white. And when it was over, when I collapsed back against the mattress, soaked in sweat and shame and slick, thighs still trembling, p***y still twitching around my own fingers… I saw it. A shadow. In the doorway. Just for a second. Then gone. No footsteps. No voice. No sound. But I didn’t need it. I didn’t f*****g need confirmation. I knew it was him. I felt it in my bones. The way the air dropped five degrees. The way my n*****s peaked like he was blowing over them. The way my cunt throbbed like it wanted to apologize for being touched by anyone but him. My fingers slipped out of me with a wet, obscene squelch. I could still feel my orgasm leaking down between my cheeks, coating the backs of my thighs. I didn’t move to clean it. I didn’t move at all. I just laid there..open. On my back. Legs wide. Fingers drenched. Breathing like I’d just been wrecked by a ghost. Because I had. Because he had. And when I finally dragged my eyes to the door, to that empty space where his shadow had been.. I whispered it like a confession. Like a brand. Like a prayer to something bigger than the Moon Goddess. “I’m yours, Daddy.” No answer. But I didn’t need one. Because there was proof. On the floor. Right where the door had been cracked just an inch.. A faint, wet print. Barefoot. Massive. Facing inward. Like he’d been standing there. Watching. The whole time. And now he’d left it for me. A message. A claim. I sat up slowly, c*m dripping down my inner thighs, my cunt sore and gaping from how hard I’d f****d myself. I bent forward..wincing..and touched the print with my fingertips. Still damp. Still warm. My breath caught in my throat. My pulse pounded in my ears. I curled my fingers into the sheets, dragged myself back onto the mattress, collapsed on my side like a girl who’d just been knotted. Even though she hadn’t been touched. Not yet. And I whispered it again. “Please. Next time… let me taste you.”

Favorite Sin 5

~Lyra~ I didn’t speak at breakfast. I didn’t eat either. I just sat there like a f*****g ghost in a silk robe that clung too tight to my overheated skin, trying not to breathe too loud or shift too much. Trying to convince myself the tea in my hand was hot, that my body wasn’t flushed from memory, from ache, from him. But it was a lie. All of it. Because my thighs were already wet. My p***y was already throbbing. And every breath that touched my lungs was tainted with his scent. Across the table, Tasha was doing what Tasha did best…running her mouth like it had never been f****d shut. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, scrolling through her phone like she was casting spells with every swipe. “So. I was thinking lake house for my birthday. Something elegant. Something Luna-worthy, you know? But also slutty. Like. Give ‘em goddess but make it porn.” She paused, waiting for my reaction. I gave her nothing. She clicked her tongue. “Lyra. Hello? Earth to blue balls. You didn’t even blink.” “I’m thinking white bikini for the morning boat ride. Or maybe the cherry red one. You know, the one with the gold chain sides that makes my ass look like it could finance a war.” My throat clenched. I forced a nod. She didn’t stop. “And for the dinner party? That sheer black dress with the slit up to my cervix. I want Daddy to threaten to send me home. Just once. Just enough to remind me I’m his favorite problem.” I twitched. Not because of her. Because of that word. Daddy. It shouldn’t have made my p***y clench. But it did. She groaned, tossing her phone down. “Ugh. You’re not even listening.” “I am.” “Then contribute.” “I’m tired.” “From what?” She leaned across the table, eyes narrowing. “You barely came out of your room yesterday.” I looked away. “I didn’t sleep.” She tilted her head. “Nightmares?” No. Worse. Fucking worse. The kind of dream that leaves you sobbing under the sheets, nails digging into your own thighs because you can’t come hard enough. The kind that leaves you sticky and shaking and ashamed the second you open your eyes. But I wasn’t asleep. I didn’t tell her that. I didn’t say I’d seen the footprints outside the bathroom. I didn’t say the hallway still stank of s*x and sweat and primal heat hours after I locked myself in. I “I’ll nap later,” I said instead, voice tight. “Where’s your dad?” “Out. Patrol meeting. Some rogue pissed him off yesterday. Might be a war if it gets messy.” Something flickered in my chest. Sharp. Bright. He’s gone. Gone. Gone. I tried not to react. Tried not to let the breath catch in my throat or the blush rise back into my cheeks. But she noticed. “What?” I blinked. “Nothing.” “You asked about him.” “It was just a question.” “You smiled.” “No, I didn’t.” “Yes, you f*****g did.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. Are you seriously..Lyra. Oh my f*****g goddess. You’re not thinking about my dad, are you? You f*****g better not girl!!” “What? No. God. No.” “You are.” “I’m not.” “You are!” she shrieked, slamming her hand on the table. “You’re thinking about him. You’re f*****g wet, aren’t you? You little freak. You’re sitting at breakfast dripping for my father.” I stood up too fast. My chair scraped the floor. My robe slipped at the shoulder, exposing the curve of my collarbone. Her eyes went wide. “Holy s**t,” she whispered. “You are.” “Shut up.” She leaned back, lips curling into a wicked grin. “He’s gonna ruin you, Lyra. He doesn’t f**k virgins. He breaks them. So it’s best you f*****g stay away from him. You hear me!” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because I was already walking away. ~~ I waited an hour. Maybe less. My nerves were shot. My body was on fire. My clit throbbed with every step. I paced my room barefoot, robe still tied too tight, my n*****s painfully hard against the silk fabric, my thighs slick from arousal I couldn’t control. I’d tried the shower. Ice cold. Brutal. Didn’t work. The more I scrubbed, the more sensitive I became. I could still feel his voice on my skin. Next time, I’m the one making you c*m. It played in my head on a loop. Over and over. The sound of it. The weight of it. The way his breath had fogged the air behind the bathroom door like he was already inside me, whispering straight into my soul. I should have stayed put. Should have locked the door and prayed to the Moon Goddess. But I was already lost. Already his. I slipped into the hallway like a thief. Heart pounding. Feet silent. Turned left. Past the family photos. Past the silver-framed mirrors. Past the places I was allowed to be. Toward his wing. Tasha’s words echoed. Never go there. It’s where the bad s**t happens. Good. I wanted it. The carpet thickened under my soles. The scent grew darker. Wilder. Like pine and whiskey and wolf heat. Like something forbidden. Like something that could eat me alive. I reached the last door. It was cracked open. Barely. Just enough to tempt. I touched the edge. Pushed. The creak was loud. Almost gut wrenching. I winced. And then I saw him. Damon. Alpha. Flesh and danger. He stood at the center of the room like he owned the whole f*****g world. Sweat ran down his bare chest. His muscles flexed with every breath. A single drop slid from his jaw to his pec, glistening like sin before disappearing into the dark tattoos that clawed across his torso. He didn’t turn. But I knew he knew. He always knew. He shifted. His voice cut through the silence. “You lost, little girl?” I tried to speak. Failed. My mouth opened. Nothing came out. He turned. And holy f*****g hell. His face. His body. That raw, brutal beauty that made your lungs forget how to work. His sweatpants hung low, hips sharp, c**k heavy. Not hard. Not yet. But thick. Lying against his thigh like a loaded weapon. Veins coiled up the shaft. His scent wrapped around me like a noose. My p***y pulsed. Soaked. Throbbing. I backed up. His smirk deepened. “You didn’t mean to come here?” I shook my head. Useless lie. He stepped closer. One step. Two. Like a god descending. “You did.” “You came here knowing what I’d do. What I’d say. What I’d take.” “No..I didn’t…” He cut me off with a look. A growl low in his throat. “Say it again.” “I didn’t mean to,” I whispered. He moved fast. Too fast. Suddenly his hand was under my chin. Fingers rough. Grip firm. He tilted my face up. Eyes locked. “You lie pretty,” he murmured. “But your p***y’s louder.” My breath hitched. “I can smell it. Leaking down your thighs like you’re begging me to put you on your knees.” He leaned closer. “You don’t know what to do with this ache, do you?” I whimpered. He pressed his body into mine. I felt everything. The heat. The weight. The promise of what he could do. His mouth brushed my cheek. “You touch yourself thinking of me. You whisper my name into your pillow while you f**k your fingers like a needy little bitch.” I moaned. He chuckled. Dark. Sinful. Cruel. Like he was f*****g enjoying this. “You want to be ruined. Say it.” “I…” “Say it.” My lips trembled. “I want you to ruin me.” “Please” “I beg you” He stepped back. Just enough to tease. His eyes burned. “Not yet little girl. I don’t know if you can f*****g take me” “I can, sir.” The words slipped out of my mouth. It was trembling, breathless, soaked in desperation. But he didn’t soften. He didn’t praise me. He laughed. “You can’t,” he murmured, stepping into me so close his breath kissed my lips. “You think you can take me? That sweet little virgin cunt of yours wouldn’t survive a f*****g inch.” His fingers curled around my throat. Not tight. Just enough. Enough to make me swallow. Enough to make me wet. “Do you know what this c**k would do to you?” he hissed. “It would tear you open. You’d scream. Cry. Maybe even bleed. You’d beg me to stop halfway in.” He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “And I wouldn’t.” I gasped. My knees buckled. His grip caught me. “f**k, you want it that bad, don’t you? You want to be ruined. Used. Split open like a toy. But look at you..shaking. Dripping down your thighs. You’re not ready for this.” “I am,” I whispered. “No, you’re not.” He dragged his thumb across my bottom lip. “You don’t even know what this feels like.” “You don’t want to take an Alpha’s c**k into your p***y, Lyra.” “You can’t handle me.” That sentence alone shattered me. My knees nearly gave out. My cunt clenched, empty and aching, throbbing like it knew it would never be enough for him. Not tight enough. Not ready. Not worthy. But I needed him. God, I needed him. “Please, Alpha,” I whispered, breath shaking, chest heaving. “I can. I swear I can take it. I want it. I want you..” He moved. Fast. Too fast. One second I was begging, the next I was against the wall. My back hit hard. My head snapped back. And then his hand was on my throat tightened. I gasped. My feet left the ground. My fingers clawed at his wrist out of instinct, but f**k… it only made the heat between my legs worse. His face was inches from mine. His breath? Fire. His stare? Punishment. “I don’t f**k little girls like you,” he growled, voice thick with disgust..and hunger. “I destroy them.” I moaned. Right there, with his hand wrapped around my throat and my legs dangling, my p***y gushed like it needed to be ruined. And he knew it. He looked down. Saw the wet spot on my shorts. Smirked. “f*****g pathetic,” he spat. “You’re dripping, and I haven’t even pulled my c**k out.” I whimpered. My clit throbbed. He ground his hips forward. And I felt it. God, I felt it. The thick, hard bulge in his pants slammed right against my stomach..high on my stomach. That c**k… it was huge. Monstrous. The kind of c**k that would leave a girl sobbing through her orgasm. The kind of c**k that would break me. I gasped. My body jerked. My thighs rubbed together like they were trying to f**k the air. “Next time you try that nonsense,” he said, his voice cold and deadly, “I won’t take it lightly.” Then he let go. And walked away. Just like that. Leaving me gasping. Wet. Aching. My panties were soaked. My throat burned. And my cunt? My cunt was twitching. Starving. Still begging for the Alpha who’d just denied me like I was nothing.