Breed Me. Daddy Alpha novel Chapter 203

~Lyra~

Should I officially say I came here a virgin and an innocent girl this summer, but now I’m not that girl anymore?

Yes. I should. I absolutely should.

Because the girl who came here with soft pink lip gloss and daydreams about spending summer. She died somewhere between the first growl he gave me and the night I screamed into a pillow with his knot stretching me open while he whispered, Good girl, take it all, you’re mine now.

And the new girl?

The one standing here right now with her thighs glued together, her nipples tingling every time she remembers how he tasted, and her entire body still aching like it’s waiting for Daddy’s next command?

Yeah. That’s me now.

I’m not the sweet little summer guest anymore. I’m not the cute best friend who just came to relax and maybe tan and maybe flirt with someone close to my age.

No.

I’m the girl who moaned for her best friend’s father. Who let him breed her while she cried and begged. Who called him Daddy while she drooled all over his cock and thanked him for not pulling out.

And I liked it.

God, I loved it.

So here we are. Let’s do a quick recap, shall we?

I came to visit for the summer. I expected pool days and girly sleepovers and TikToks under the sun. Instead, I got knotted so hard I blacked out. I got bent over desks, thrown onto counters, and whispered filthy things that made my clit twitch every time I remembered them. I got claimed.

Two days later after the fight with Camilla and Tasha. I went back to school.

Literally.

No one came near me because of Damon.

The crowd parted around me like I was fire. Boys avoided eye contact. Girls whispered. Professors looked nervous. No one sat next to me in class.

They could smell him on me.

That scent? That deep, dominant Alpha scent? It hadn’t faded. Not even a little. It was in my skin. My throat. My fucking soul. He made sure of that.

And did I like it?

Yeah.

Of course I did.

Not like I enjoy people’s company anyway. I’m not the type who thrives in a crowd. I hate fake smiles and loud voices and pointless small talk. I’d rather be alone, pressed up against the memory of his hand around my throat, than surrounded by people.

The girls in the back of class looked at me. The way they looked at me like I was radioactive. I ignored them. I always ignore them.

My last period had been over a month ago.

Over five weeks.

And nothing since.

I stared at the screen, then at the white cotton of my underwear, then back at the screen again. My mouth went dry. My knees started bouncing without my permission. I suddenly felt hot. My throat was closing. My hands were sweating.

No. No. No. No no no-fuck. Please no-this can’t be-oh my God.”

I was talking to myself, out loud, in the bathroom stall like a full-blown crazy person and I didn’t even care. My phone was still in my hand, the period tracker app wide open, flashing that stupid red calendar in my face with the words missed and late and day 39 blinking like sirens. And I just kept staring at it like the numbers would change if I blinked hard enough. Like if I shook the phone or refreshed the app or restarted my entire fucking life, it would somehow show a little pink dot that said, ” Don’t worry, babe, you’re fine.”

But there was no dot.

There was no spotting.

There was no nothing.

And now I was standing in the bathroom with my underwear still around my thighs, one hand braced on the stall wall, the other holding my phone, and my heart pounding so fast I thought I was going to throw up.

“This can’t be happening. No. No. No. I mean-okay-yes, he knotted me. Like, a lot. Like… a lot a lot. Like… oh my God, how many times was it?”