Breed Me. Daddy Alpha novel Chapter 226

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 cock 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 cock stayed inside her for hours.

She needed to cry out into the mattress while I reminded her whose slick she made.

Whose name she screamed.

Whose fucking 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 nipples becoming firmer. That’s completely normal.”

Lyra whimpered.

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 fuck 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.

“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 fuck is wrong with my child!”