Breed Me. Daddy Alpha novel Chapter 27

<Tension At its Peak

Tension At Its Peak

~Lyra~

I pretended to be shocked

Played dumb

Because I wanted him to snap

I wanted him to lose it

I wanted to push him to that line and make him cross it

So I leaned back

Let my spine press harder into the tree trunk

Tilted my head like I didn’t know what he meant

“Do what,” I whispered, voice all sweet and breathy like I was the most innocent little thing on the planet

He stepped closer

So f*****g close

I could feel his heat now

Feel his chest almost brushing mine

Feel the air shift between us with tension and lust and things no girl my age should be thinking about this

hard

His breath hitched

I saw his jaw clench

I saw his eyes flick down again

Straight to my t**s

Which I was absolutely still squeezing together because f**k it I wanted him to look

I wanted to drown him in it

I wanted to watch him struggle

His hand twitched at his side like it wanted to move

Like it wanted to grab

His nostrils flared

His tongue swept over his bottom/lip like he could already taste me

And then he whispered it

This soft little growl that made my knees buckle

“Your t**s, Lyra.”

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Tension At Its Peak

God help me

1 almost came just hearing him say it

“I can see them through your dress,” he said, and his voice was tight now, strained, like he was holding back

something vicious. “And you know that. You f*****g know that.”

I gasped

Actually gasped

Because it wasn’t just the words

It was the way his voice cracked at the edges

Like he wanted to yell

Or moan

Or drop to his knees and suck them just to shut me up

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he added, like he needed to say it out loud, like it was driving him insane

My eyes fluttered

I let out the tiniest moan

And that was it

His control started to slip

He took another step

His chest brushed mine

His hand rose

Almost touched me

Almost cupped my breast right through the wet fabric

But he stopped

He pulled back

Shook his head

Like he was trying to remember who he was

Like he was seconds away from f*****g me under this tree and he knew it

“Lyra,” he said again, rough this time, almost pleading, “don’t play with me.” My thighs clenched

I could feel my g–string soaking now

I could feel slick leaking down the inside of my leg

I was a mess

And he hadn’t even touched me yet

“What if I’m not playing,” I whispered

Teens At 11 Pesk

I don’t know why I said it

I don’t know where it came from

But once it was out there I couldn’t take it back

And his eyes

God

His eyes changed

Everything in his face darkened

His hand slammed into the tree beside my head, fingers digging into the bark

His body pinned me in place

His ck–hard, thick, angry–pressed against my stomach through his sweatpants and oh my f*****g God?

felt it I felt everything

“You’re not old enough to be talking like that,” he growled, his face so close I could feel his breath on my lips

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be looking at me like that,” I whispered

It was a war now

A slow, filthy, breathless war

His knuckles brushed my cheek

His other hand hovered just beneath my breast

I held still

Waiting

Daring

Begging without saying a word

Then I whimpered

Quiet

Pathetic

Accidental

And he groaned

Like the sound broke him

“I should walk away,” he muttered, more to himself than to me

“Then why haven’t you,” I whispered

His head dropped

His forehead pressed to mine

Our breaths tangled

Everything went quiet

< Tension At Its Peak

Except the rain

The wind

The throb between my legs

And his voice

One more time

Soft

Broken

Hungry

“Because you’re f*****g killing me,” he growled, voice all wrecked and ragged like he’d just fought a war with

himself and lost.

And I swear to God my p***y clenched so hard I almost whimpered.

Because he meant it.

He wasn’t bluffing.

He wasn’t teasing.

He was starving.

And I was the only thing on the menu.

I could feel it in the way his jaw flexed.

I could feel it in the way his chest heaved against mine.

I could feel it in the way his eyes dropped to my mouth like he was about to lose every bit of his control and f**k me right there against the tree until I cried his name.

So I smiled.

Real slow.

Real cruel.

The kind of smile that said I know exactly what I’m doing to you and I want to watch you break from it.

“Then maybe I want to kill you,” I whispered, voice soft and sugar–sweet but dripping with something filthier,

darker, wetter.

His nostrils flared.

His whole body jerked forward like he didn’t even mean to.

The hand braced beside my head curled into a fist, and the other one–oh God–the other one lifted halfway, hovering just beneath my t**s like he didn’t trust himself to touch me without ruining me.

I leaned in closer.

Close enough for my breath to ghost over his lips.

Close enough for my soaked t**s to brush his chest and make his eyes go wide.

4:8

Tension At Its Peak

“Do you want to know what I was thinking about under that tree?” I whispered, so quiet, so dirty it didn’t even

sound like it came from me.

He didn’t answer.

Couldn’t.

His eyes were locked to my lips like they were dangerous.

“Hmm?” I tilted my head like I was trying to be sweet, like I wasn’t about to destroy both of us.

“Do you want to know what I was doing while you were yelling at me on the phone?”

His throat bobbed.

His breath stuttered.

I knew I had him.

So I dragged it out

Wickedly

Obscenely

“I had my hand between my legs,” I breathed, voice shaking now because I was so wet again I could feel it leaking down my thigh. “Two fingers, Daddy. Just two.”

His groan was more like a snarl.

“Slipping through my panties while I moaned your name.”

His mouth parted.

I didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

“Thinking about your voice. That angry voice. That thick c**k pressed to your thigh while you drove like a f*****g demon to find me.”

“Lyra,” he growled.

His eyes were black.

His lips swollen from how hard he was breathing.

His hand reached up–finally–hovering over my chest.

Just a few centimeters from my n****e.

“But I didn’t come,” I whispered, eyes wide, fake innocent, soaked in filth.

He blinked like he didn’t believe me

I leaned forward.

Brushed my lips against his jaw

“I waited for you.”

His whole body twitched.

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Tension At Its Peak

He was trembling.

Actually trembling.

And so was I.

So I pressed my t**s together. Tighter.

Let the fabric push up around the shape of my n*****s.

Made sure he saw everything.

Then I reached up and grabbed his wrist. Brought his hand to my breast. Held it there. Let him feel it.

And whispered the final blow.

“So if you’re gonna kill me, Daddy… do it with your mouth.”

And that was it.

That was the f*****g moment.

The snap. The exact second the leash around his control finally ripped.

He twitched.

His whole body twitched like he’d just gotten struck by lightning. Like I had just flipped something inside him that shouldn’t have been touched.

His eyes went black.

I mean completely black. No color. Just blown pupils and feral hunger and that jaw. Oh my God. His jaw was so f*****g tight it looked like it could shatter.

And then his hand moved.

No words. No warning. Just heat. And hunger. And him grabbing my tit like it was his.

He didn’t f*****g hesitate.

He just grabbed it.

One second I was breathing and the next I wasn’t because his whole palm swallowed my breast through the wet, clingy fabric of my dress and his fingers closed around it like they’d been waiting their whole life to

claim me.

I moaned.

So loud.

So humiliating.

I swear I didn’t mean to be that loud. But f**k. My whole body reacted. My legs went soft. My back hit the tree and I think my soul just said f**k it and left my body because I couldn’t think anymore.

My n****e was already hard. So f*****g hard. And when he flicked it with his thumb through that drenched dress I swear to God something inside me screamed.

My knees buckled.

Completely.

< Tension At Its Peak

I would’ve dropped if he wasn’t pinning me there with just one hand.

My t**s were heavy and aching and crushed up against the front of his chest now and my p***y was so wet it

hurt.

Literally hurt. I could feel the slick clinging to the insides of my thighs. I could feel the air touch it. I could feel how messy I was. And all he did was touch one tit.

“You think this is a game” his voice shook. It didn’t just sound angry. It sounded wrecked. Like I had broken something inside him and he didn’t know how to put it back together.

I whimpered.

Yes I f*****g whimpered. Like a needy little b***h.

His fingers pinched my n****e through the dress and my mouth fell open again and a whole different kind of moan slipped out. Desperate. Slutty, Wet.

He pressed his forehead to mine.

His breath was pouring into my mouth. It was hot. It was heavy. It made me dizzy. I couldn’t focus on anything except the heat of his body and the pressure of his hand and the throbbing ache between my legs that was getting worse. So much worse.

Oh God. My panties.

They were done for. Ruined. Soaked through. I could feel how sticky they were. Every time I moved I felt it. That awful squelch of wet fabric against soaked skin.

And his hand just kept rolling my n****e between his fingers like he was punishing it. Slow. Tight. Dirty.

I choked. Literally choked on a moan that wasn’t even a sound. Just noise. Just breath and shame and need.

“You like this” he hissed. His mouth didn’t touch mine but it hovered. “You like teasing me like that. Calling me Daddy like a little f*****g whore.”

Yes. Yes. Yes. Say it again. Say it again. Make it worse.

I couldn’t speak.

I couldn’t even swallow.

He pinched my n****e again. This time hard.

I gasped. My whole body locked up. My hips jerked forward like I was trying to hump the air. I didn’t care. I would’ve rubbed myself against the bark of the f*****g tree if it meant relief.

“Answer me”

“Y–yes” I gasped.

“You like getting me hard in the f*****g rain” he snarled.

He twisted my n****e again and my voice broke. My moan came out cracked. I almost started crying from how badly I needed him to just touch me lower. Please. Just lower.

“You like showing me your t**s like a c**k–hungry little brat”

“I… I didn’t mean…I wasn’t…i just…“I couldn’t get the words out. My mouth wasn’t working. My brain wasn’t

< Tension At Its Peak

working. All I could think was f**k. f**k. f**k I’m so wet.

His hand left my tit and wrapped around my throat.

I gasped again.

Royalty Writes

#Vite# Hey there my dear readers. Can you feel the tension