Ch. 211..215: Breed Me, Daddy Alpha chapter 211-215

Breed Me. Daddy Alpha – Chapter 211

~Lyra~

“I didn’t take a test yet because I was too scared to see the result,” I confessed, breathless, broken. “Because if it’s negative, then maybe I’m just losing it. And if it’s positive-if it’s really positive-then that means it’s real, and that means I’m actually pregnant with your pup, and I don’t even know what that looks like or what it means for me or for you or for school or for everything, and-“

I choked on a sob and buried my face in his chest again like it could hide me from the avalanche of words that wouldn’t stop pouring out of my mouth.

“And I know I’m just eighteen,” I mumbled into his shirt, the fabric soaking up my tears like it had done this before. “I know I’m young and dumb and I probably don’t understand half of what’s happening in my own body.

My voice got quieter, but not calmer.

And definitely not sane.

“I don’t know how to be someone’s mother,” I whispered, but the words still came fast, all tangled.

“I don’t even know how to survive school without melting down in the bathroom twice a week. I don’t even like milk, Damon. Pregnant people drink milk, don’t they? Or is that a myth? What if I can’t give you what you want? What if the pup doesn’t even look like you? What if I’m too small to carry it—what if—what if I—”

“Shhh,” he murmured suddenly, and his hand moved up to cover my mouth, gently but firmly, palm flat across my lips. ” Enough, kitten”

He lifted his hand gently, fingers brushing my jaw like he didn’t want to hurt me, just silence me, just touch me, and then he pressed his palm over my mouth.

His thumb rested just against the edge of my cheek, and his other hand slid firmly around my waist, gripping me like he was anchoring me to the earth while my mind spun out of control.

My breathing hitched.

My chest was still rising and falling too fast, and tears were still clinging to my lashes, but I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. His hand was there, but even if it hadn’t been, I think I still would’ve gone quiet, because his voice had changed.

“Come here, kitten,” he said softly, and he moved his hand from my mouth just as his other one tugged me flush against him, like I belonged there, like my body was made to fit into the shape of his, and suddenly I wasn’t just standing anymore–I was held.

His palm gripped my waist tighter, dragging me even closer, until my chest was pressed against his and my mouth was trembling just inches from his.

And then he kissed me.

It was the kind of kiss that swallowed every thought I had and replaced it with fire. My knees buckled. My head spun.

I moaned into his mouth without meaning to, and the sound made his grip on me tighten again like he wanted more of it, like he wanted to own every little noise I made.

My fingers curled into the front of his shirt, clinging for balance, for breath, for him, because I was already falling again and only he knew how to catch me.

His hand slid down my back.

Lower.

Lower.

And then.

His hand grabbed my ass.

Like he’d been thinking about it all day. Like he wanted to remind me it was his.

Before I could even react, I felt the sting.

His palm smacked my ass with just enough force to make me gasp, my head jerking back, my lips parting as this helpless, shocked moan spilled out.

My whole body froze for a second, like even my nervous system didn’t know how to process that much sensation at once. My chest was rising and falling so fast I thought I might actually pass out.

“Damon,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper because I couldn’t get air in fast enough. “You just-oh my God, you spanked me.”

“Yes,” he said, low and unbothered, his fingers still gripping my ass like it was his favorite thing in the world. “And you liked it.”

I couldn’t even deny it.

I couldn’t say anything, because the truth was I was wet. Soaking. Throbbing. My thighs were squeezing together and my stomach was fluttering and my brain was doing that thing where all it could think about was his voice and his hands and his dick and how badly I wanted to feel him inside me again, even if I was already losing my mind.

I tried to say something. I really did. I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, to go back to the panic and the test and the hormones and all the serious, terrifying things I’d come here to talk about.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Not with his hands on me.

Not with my body betraying me like this.

Not with my nipples hardening and my cunt clenching and my thoughts running in circles around the fact that I was probably pregnant and still ready to beg him to bend me over the nearest table and breed me again.

Damon smirked.

It was small. Just a tiny shift of his lips. But it was there. That dark, cocky, mine kind of smirk that made my heart stutter and my lower belly squeeze with filthy heat.

“Much better,” he murmured, brushing his mouth against my cheek like I was still his crying kitten instead of his needy Omega. “You breathe better when you’re in Daddy’s hands. You think better when your ass is red and your thighs are shaking. Isn’t that right?

Then he kept going.

Of course he kept going.

Because Damon doesn’t know how to stop when I’m already on the edge. He just pushes harder, speaks lower, touches deeper, and it makes me unravel faster every single time.

“You’re softer when you cry for me,” he said, his voice curling around my ear like it belonged inside me. “You’re louder in bed, but your brain gets quieter. You stop panicking. You stop pretending you can handle things alone. You give me everything -your breath, your tears, your cunt-and you stop overthinking and just feel. That’s what you need, isn’t it? You need Daddy to take control again.”

My breath hitched.

I hated how true it felt.

I hated how quickly my body reacted to those words, how I clenched around nothing and whimpered softly against his chest like a pathetic little thing, all while my heart kept pounding like a warning bell.

I wanted to melt into him again.

I wanted him to say more.

But then it hit me again-hard and fast and terrifying.

The reason I came here.

Breed Me. Daddy Alpha – Chapter 212

The truth I hadn’t even processed yet.

I pushed against his chest just enough to make space between us, my hands shaking, my stomach twisting, my mind

screaming at me not to say it–but it was already rising in my throat, choking me with its weight.

“I think I’m pregnant,” I whispered again, louder this time, like I needed him to really hear it.

I didn’t know what reaction I expected.

Shock.

Denial.

Panic.

But all I got was calm. The same terrifying calm he always used when he was completely, totally in control of the situation- and everyone else just hadn’t caught up yet.

He didn’t flinch.

He didn’t blink.

He didn’t even loosen his grip on my ass.

He just said, “Then it’s fine, kitten.”

I blinked up at him, stunned.

Fine?

Fine?

Was he being serious right now?

Did he understand what I had just said?

“I-what?” I stammered, because my brain was still buffering like a bad Wi-Fi signal. “What do you mean fine?”

He looked down at me like I was adorable. Like I was dumb. Like I was his.

“Didn’t you expect it?” he asked, his voice low and maddeningly casual. “You really thought it wasn’t going to happen? Knowing we never-not once-used a condom? Or what, you didn’t pay attention in biology class, kitten?”

My mouth dropped open.

The slap I gave his chest was instant, fueled by panic and embarrassment and the fact that my whole body was still throbbing from that damn spanking he gave me.

“Stop joking around, Damon!” I snapped, even though my voice cracked halfway through because my emotions were all over the fucking place.

“This isn’t funny. I’m serious. I came here because I’m scared and confused and maybe pregnant, and now you’re making dumb sex-ed jokes while I’m literally falling apart in your arms!”

“What?” he said, completely unfazed, his hand still possessively cupping my ass. “I’m not joking. I’m being honest. You ride my cock like it’s your birthright and then act surprised when your little Omega womb decides to do what it was made to do? Your body takes me so well. It was meant to keep me. You soaked me up like you were made for it, baby. Like you were begging me to knock you up.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned, pressing both hands into his chest again like maybe if I pushed hard enough I could climb inside it and disappear. “You’re insane.”

“No,” he said with a smirk that made my thighs twitch. “I’m right.”

“I’m not dumb,” I muttered, and my voice was tight again, on the verge of snapping. “I know how it works. I just… I didn’t think it would happen this fast. I thought we’d have time and I’m not ready. I’m not ready, Damon. I’m not.”

“Then I’ll make you ready, kitten. Don’t be scared. I’m right here, okay?” Damon said softly.

“First thing we’ll do,” he continued, his voice low and deep and so calm it made my eyes sting again, “we’ll stop by the pharmacy on our way home, alright? We’ll get the pregnancy test. We’ll know if it’s true. And no matter what it says, you’re not doing this alone. You hear me? Don’t be scared anymore, kitten.”

My bottom lip wobbled.

I nodded slowly.

I swallowed the sob that was about to rise again because I believed him. I believed every word that came out of his mouth, even if my brain was still too scrambled to process the size of what he was saying. He made it sound so simple. Like this wasn’t the scariest thing I’d ever faced. Like I could actually breathe through it.

But then he ruined it.

Because of course he did.

He’s Damon.

He looked down at me, his gaze slipping lower, and then his hand slid down the side of my body, cupping my waist, my ribs, his fingers brushing so close to the side of my breast that my nipple actually hardened in response.

And then, so casually it could’ve been a grocery list, he said, “But I’m not gonna lie, kitten… your tits are big now.”

I blinked.

My mouth dropped open.

And before I could even get a breath in, he added, “Can Daddy suck them?”

Oh. My. God.

Breed Me. Daddy Alpha – Chapter 213

“But I’m not gonna lie, kitten,” he murmured, his hand sliding up my side like he owned every inch of my skin, “your tits are big now.”

I blinked at him, still trying to come down from the panic he’d just soothed out of me, and then my breath caught completely when he tilted his head slightly, licked his lips, and said—

“Can Daddy suck them?”

Oh. My. God.

I stared at him like he’d just asked to fuck me in front of the Moon Goddess herself. My mouth opened. My chest rose.

My nipples-those traitorous, sensitive, aching little things-hardened instantly like they were excited about the invitation. And for one hot second, I almost said yes. I almost melted right there in his hands and whispered please like the needy little Omega I always became in his arms.

But then I remembered.

I remembered him smirking.

I remembered him making dumb jokes about biology class like I wasn’t standing in front of him sobbing about possibly being pregnant.

So I pulled back just a little. Just enough to pout.

And then I smirked right back.

“No,” I said sweetly, blinking up at him with the fakest innocence I could manage. “You can’t suck them. Not after saying I overreact. That’s your punishment. You get to look, not touch.”

His eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth twitched-like he liked the challenge.

“You sure about that, kitten?” he whispered, his voice suddenly dropping into that low, husky, dangerous tone that made my spine shiver and my thighs press together without permission.

“Because I think you’re bluffing. I think you want Daddy to pull your dress down and suck those sore, heavy tits until you’re crying from how good it feels.”

My breath hitched again. Instantly.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, and my eyes fluttered like he’d just breathed into my bloodstream. “I think you want me to bite them,” he continued, his hand sliding around to the front of my body so slowly it made me whimper. “I think you want me to leave teeth marks. I think your little Omega body is already leaking for it.”

“Shut up,” I whispered, but my voice wasn’t strong. It wasn’t sharp. It was barely even real. I was already shaking again, already breathless, already clinging to the fabric of my dress like it could protect me from the fact that yes, he was right. I was wet. I was aching. I was seconds away from begging.

“I think you’re going to let me do it anyway,” he said, his voice thick and hungry now, his nose trailing down the side of my cheek. “Because you’re mine, kitten. And those perfect tits? They’re Daddy’s.”

And then he went further.

Because of course he did.

He doesn’t stop when I’m trembling. He doesn’t stop when I’m trying to hold myself together. He waits for it. He feeds on it. And once he sees that little crack in my voice, that stutter in my breath, that squeeze of my thighs—he goes straight for the kill.

“You know what I think, kitten?” he whispered, and his mouth was right at my ear now. His breath sent a full-body tremble down my spine. “I think they’re already swollen because your body’s preparing. It knows. Your tits are getting ready for our pup.”

I gasped.

Not softly.

Not politely.

I gasped so hard my whole chest jerked. My hand flew to his wrist like I was going to stop him, like I was going to say no, stop, be serious, Damon please, but I didn’t say any of those things. Because the second he touched the curve of my breast, the second he gripped the weight of it and brushed his thumb over the sensitive top-I forgot what words were.

“I think they’re sore because your body’s getting full,” he murmured. “You feel it, don’t you? That tightness? That heat? That need?”

“Damon,” I breathed out, and it sounded like a plea, but I didn’t even know what I was asking for anymore.

“Let Daddy suck them,” he whispered, his lips brushing my jaw as his hand slid back to the neckline of my dress. “Let me bite them. Let me worship them.”

“No,” I said, but it came out too soft. Too wet. Too broken to mean anything. “No. You can’t. Not after saying I was overreacting-this is my punishment for you.”

He chuckled low in his chest, and the sound vibrated against me.

“Are you sure about that, kitten?” he asked, and his fingers didn’t stop. “Because your body’s saying something else.’

His hand dipped lower, grazing the side of my breast now, thumb tracing just beneath the fabric like he was memorizing the way it fit around my nipple.

“You’re shaking,” he said, his voice dripping into something darker, something hungrier. “You’re blushing. You’re soaking through your panties, and I haven’t even pulled your cloth down yet. You’re going to tell me no while your tits are begging to be sucked?”

“I’m not ” I tried to say, but the words cracked apart before I could finish.

Because it wasn’t true.

I was shaking.

I was wet.

I was aching in places I didn’t even know had nerves.

And I was trying. I was trying so hard to stay firm, to keep my hands planted against his chest instead of letting them slide up into his hair and yank his face down to my tits where I really wanted it. But he kept going.

“You want my tongue, don’t you?” he whispered, his hand finally, finally sliding into my dress to cup the full weight of one aching, swollen breast.

“You want me to drag it over your nipple. You want me to suck until you cry. Until your milk comes in. Until this tight little body starts leaking for me.”

My knees buckled.

I whimpered-like actually whimpered-mouth open, throat tight, and every inch of my body screaming at me to give in.

But I didn’t.

Not completely.

I shook my head, weakly. I clutched his wrist like I was going to push him away. I opened my mouth to say something bratty and mean, something like you wish or earn it, but all that came out was this soft, wrecked moan as his thumb flicked my nipple through the fabric.

He leaned in closer.

Mouth at my ear again.

“You can’t fight me, kitten,” he whispered, and my eyes fluttered shut. “Not when you’re this wet. Not when your tits are this ready. Not when your little Omega cunt is already pulsing like it knows I’m about to knot you again.”

I gasped.

 

Breed Me. Daddy Alpha – Chapter 214

I gasped.

Loud.

Desperate.

Soaked.

I couldn’t move.

I wanted to resist. I wanted to say no again, just to be bratty, just to feel like I still had control over my body and this terrifying situation and the chaos in my chest. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was frozen in place, my thighs shaking, my breasts heavy in his hands, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted his mouth on me.

I wanted his mouth on me.

Not in a vague, dreamy way. Not in a passing thought or a maybe-later kind of ache. No. I wanted it with every nerve ending in my body. I wanted it with my whole chest, with my soaking panties, with the heat crawling up my spine and the hunger twisting my stomach so hard it hurt. My breasts felt full. Aching. Like they were begging for his tongue. My nipples were so hard it was painful, and the only thing I could think about was how it would feel to finally have him on me again-his mouth, his hands, his breath.

I couldn’t fight it anymore.

I couldn’t pretend.

My fingers shook as I clutched the front of his shirt, dragged him closer, and finally said it.

“Take off my clothes, Damon,” I whispered, and even though my voice was trembling, I meant every word. “Take them off. Please. I want you to suck them.”

His eyes locked on mine, and the second I saw the look there-dark, hungry, feral-I knew I’d just started something I wasn’t ready to finish.

But I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t.

My voice was already spilling again, frantic and messy and too loud, but I didn’t care anymore. I wanted him. I needed him. “Suck them,” I said, breath hitching as I pressed my chest against his hands like I was offering myself on a silver fucking platter. “Make it stop hurting. They feel so tight. So sore. I want your mouth. I want you to use your tongue. I want you to bite down and leave marks and make me cry. Please, Damon. Please.”

My thighs were shaking now. My dress felt too tight, too hot, like it was choking me. I didn’t want to be covered. I wanted to be bare. Open. I wanted to be used.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned, my body arching up into him. “Please, Daddy. I can’t take it anymore. My tits need you. I need your mouth on them or I’m going to lose it.”

His breath punched out of him in a low, rough groan that made my walls flutter.

He moved quickly then, gripping my cloth strap, sliding it down my shoulder like he’d been waiting for this moment since the second he saw me. My nipple brushed the air and I gasped the sensation so sharp and raw I almost cried from how good it already felt.

“Oh look at my babies”

His head dipped.

His mouth opened.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, already feeling that first wet pull of his tongue in my imagination.

But before his lips could touch me-

“Damon!”

The door burst open.

I flinched.

His hand froze on my dress.

My breath died in my throat.

I didn’t even have to look. I already knew. I recognized the voice like a trauma response.

I didn’t turn around immediately.

I couldn’t.

I was still shaking. Still leaking. Still wide open and so close to coming undone in his hands, and now this bitch had the audacity to walk in uninvited.

My hands clenched.

My body tensed.

My jaw locked.

And I didn’t even think.

I just said what I was already feeling.

“This bitch,” I muttered under my breath, eyes still locked on Damon’s, chest heaving, my cloth half-off,

Breed Me. Daddy Alpha – Chapter 215

~Damon~

I honestly thought she was in real danger when she called.

Her voice had cracked over the line. She sounded like she couldn’t breathe, like something had gone terribly wrong, like someone had touched her, or worse.

My entire body had tensed before she even said my name. I was ready to kill. Ready to rip a throat out bare-handed. I thought she’d been hurt. I thought someone had laid a hand on what belonged to me.

But she came here.

Trembling.

Tear-stained.

Still dressed in her little school uniform and breathing like her lungs didn’t work right.

And she said she might be pregnant.

Oh, my sweet little kitten.

I won’t blame her.

Still young. Still figuring out what it means to be an Omega, still new to the fire inside her. Her mind doesn’t understand what her body already knows.

Of course she’s scared. Of course she’s confused. She’s still learning what it means to carry power between her legs. But now?

She’s mine.

And she’s about to be the mother of my pup.

She tried to resist me when I touched her.

Tried to pout and punish me for making her laugh when she wanted to cry.

She told me I couldn’t suck her tits.

But her body told me something different.

The second I whispered in her ear-Are you sure?-her thighs clenched. Her breathing broke. And when I pressed my hand against the soft curve of her breast, her nipple pushed back against my palm like it was begging me to keep going.

She gave in faster than I thought she would.

She looked me in the eye and whispered it-Take off my clothes, Damon.

Her voice cracked.

Her chest heaved.

Her mouth parted like she needed my tongue more than she needed air.

Please, Daddy. Suck them. Make it stop hurting.

I swear to the Moon I was about to drop to my fucking knees.

I was going to peel that dress down and pull her tits into my mouth and suck until she whimpered, until her back arched, until she clawed at my hair and begged me to keep going.

I was going to leave her tits red and wet and sore and mine. I was going to bite them. Kiss them. Worship them like the perfect Omega offerings they were.

She needed it.

She wanted to be licked like cream.

She wanted to be eaten until she cried.

And I was going to do it right fucking there.

Against the wall.

With her dress pulled down, her tits bouncing in my mouth, her knees weak and her voice hoarse from moaning my name.

I didn’t care where we were.

I didn’t care who was still in the pack house.

She came to me.

She ran to me.

She begged me.

That sweet, breathy little voice of hers cracked open my fucking chest when she said take off my clothes, Damon. And when she followed it with suck them, Daddy, make it stop hurting, I nearly blacked out. My cock was already hard. Painfully hard. So hard it was pressing against the inside of my slacks like it wanted to tear through and bury itself in the soaked heat between her thighs.

I was going to bend her backward right into the wall and drag her dress down to her waist so I could see everything.

I was going to spread her legs with my thigh and pin her there, sucking one tit while squeezing the other, switching back and forth until her body went limp in my hands.

I was going to make her cry. Not from fear. Not from sadness. From relief. From pleasure. From being worshiped so deeply she forgot her own name.

I was going to growl against her chest while I marked her with my tongue.

I was going to lap over her nipple until it was raw and red and slippery, then suck it hard while she begged for my cock like the needy little Omega she was born to be.

I was going to whisper how good she tasted. How full her tits felt. How she’d better start getting used to it, because when that test came back positive, I wasn’t letting her wear a single bra until the pup was born.

I was going to suck until I tasted milk.

And then?

I was going to flip her over, right there in the middle of the damn room, bend her over the arm of the couch, and rip her panties straight off her thighs with my teeth.

I was going to sink my fingers into her wet, pulsing cunt while my mouth stayed latched to her chest and growl mine between every suck, every bite, every filthy, sacred, primal kiss against the body she gave to me.

Because she is mine.

And I don’t care that she’s eighteen.

I don’t care that she came in crying.

I don’t care that she’s terrified.

Because I saw it the second she looked up at me with tears on her lashes and arousal on her breath.

She didn’t come here to be saved.

She came here to be claimed.

And I was going to do it.

Right fucking there.

Until the whole house heard her cry out Daddy while my knot split her open and my cum filled her womb again.

But then that door opened.

And that fucking voice cut through everything.

“Damon!

That voice stole the sound of Lyra’s next moan from my mouth.

It stole the taste of her tit from my tongue.

It stole the sacred moment when I was about to ruin her completely and make her forget why she was ever afraid.

I didn’t even look at her at first.

My hands were still on Lyra.

She was frozen.

Her nipple was still bare.

Still pink.

Still mine.

And her breath was still heavy with the whimper she never got to release.

She whispered it so quietly I almost missed it.

But I heard her.

“This bitch.”