Breed Me, Daddy Alpha-Chapter 31.

"I bet you would," he said. "I bet you’d sit here leaking. Moaning. Rubbing your thighs together while I watched and didn’t touch."

"Daddy," I gasped.

He growled.

His hand slapped my inner thigh...just enough to sting.

"Don’t call me that," he snapped. "Unless you want to get pinned to this bar and fucked like a bad little girl who can’t keep her legs closed."

My whole body shuddered.

"You think I didn’t see how you looked at me?"

I couldn’t breathe.

"You wanted me to see this cunt through that dress. You wanted my cock so deep in you you’d forget your own name."

He leaned in. Pressed his hips against me.

I could feel every inch of it.

That thick, angry cock.

Right there.

Right against my slit.

Not in. Not moving. Just pressing.

"I’m not going to fuck you," he said darkly. "Not tonight."

I whimpered.

"But I want you to feel what you’re missing."

And then.

He rolled his hips once.

Just once.

And dragged the length of his cock against my pussy.

Through my folds.

Through the mess.

Slow. Deliberate.

I moaned so loud it echoed off the fucking ceiling.

He didn’t stop.

He did it again.

And again.

Just dragging it through my slit, over my clit, through the slick that made it glide like silk.

I tried to buck.

He held me still.

"Not inside," he growled. "Not yet."

My body was on fire.

Every nerve ending was begging.

My cunt was twitching. Clenching. Screaming for something that wasn’t coming.

He leaned down. Bit my lip.

Then pulled back.

And again.

He rolled his hips against me one more time and let out a low moan that sounded like it hurt.

And that’s when my phone started ringing. The ringtone was fucking loud and relentless. It annoyed me. Who the fuck was calling me?

I gasped, reached for it with trembling hands, glanced at the screen.

Tasha.

Her name lit up with fire emojis.

I answered, still breathless, dress hiked to my waist, thighs spread, pussy wet against his cock.

Her voice burst through the speaker.

"Bitch! Come downstairs now or I’m leaving without you!"

I tried to speak. Failed. Swallowed hard. Tried again.

"I...I’m sorry," I said weakly. "I gotta go. I have to—"

I stepped off the bar. Legs shaking. Face flushed.

Turned toward the door.

But before I could take a step, Damon grabbed my wrist.

His grip was firm yet commanding at the same time.

His voice was low.

"Stay away from the boys at the party."

I turned slowly. Looked up at him.

"And if they come near me?" I whispered.

His eyes burned through mine.

He leaned in.

"Wanna find out?" he asked.

Then he smacked my ass.

Hard.

I gasped.

He smirked.

"Now leave," he said, "before I rip that fucking dress off your body and fuck you into next week."

I didn’t breathe again until I was out the door.

But even then.

I was still wet.

Still trembling.

And still his.

The front door slammed behind me.

I didn’t breathe until I hit the night air.

The wind was cool against my flushed skin, but it didn’t help. Not when my cunt was still soaked, not when my thighs were slick and shaking, not when the scent of him was still on me like a second skin.

I hurried barefoot across the driveway, the stupid mesh dress clinging to every curve, the slap of my heartbeat louder than the breeze. Damon’s warning echoed through my head with every step.

Stay away from the boys at the party.

Wanna find out?

Leave before I rip that dress off your body and fuck you.

Fuck.

My body was still in that room. Bent over that bar. Soaked in the ache of almost.

And then I saw the Jeep.

Tasha was already in the driver’s seat, engine rumbling low, headlights on, one heel kicked off as she sat sideways behind the wheel with her phone pressed to her ear.

When she saw me, she threw it across the dashboard and slammed her palm against the horn.

"Finally," she snapped, yanking the passenger door open before I could even reach for it. "What the actual fuck, Lyra?"

I slid in quickly, the door barely shutting before she peeled out of the driveway, tires screeching like her mood.

"I told you I was grabbing something..."

"Oh shut the fuck up," she barked, glaring at me from the corner of her eye. "I’ve been sitting in this car for ten minutes like a loser while you were in there doing God knows what with my dad."

I blinked. "I wasn’t..."

"Fuck you!! I was not doing anything with your dad"

"I wanted to grab my pads cause my period just started"

Tasha let out a long, dramatic groan and thumped the steering wheel.

"You better not!" she hissed as she started driving. .

My heart stopped.

She wasn’t wrong.

She wasn’t wrong about any of it.

But I lied.

I couldn’t tell her how he touched me.

How he didn’t fuck me.

How I could still feel the imprint of his cock dragging between my folds.

How my pussy was clenching even now.

"But damn girl you look drop dead gorgeous" she complimented me as continued driving.

Honestly I wasn’t worried about the attention of heft at the party.

I was worried about what Damon would do when he found out.

When he heard.

When he saw.

And I had no idea what the fuck I was walking into.