< Beg Me Kitten
Beg Me Kitten
~Lyra~
“Come here, kitten.”
The second those words rolled out of his mouth, slow and deep and thick with that Alpha growl he knows
drives me insane, my thighs clenched so hard I swear I saw stars for a second.
My entire body responded instantly. My breath caught, my n*****s tightened against his shirt, and my p***y? My p***y pulsed like it had just been called by name.
But I didn’t move.
Oh, no.
I didn’t f*****g move an inch.
Instead, I stood there in the middle of the room, barefoot and flushed and soaked with the aftershock of war and lust and pride, and I stared at him with smile on my face that was far too sweet to be innocent.
“You want me to come to you?” I asked, letting the words drag out of my mouth like honey over a blade. “Just like that? After everything I just did? After I turned your ex into a broken sobbing mess and made your daughter cry in front of you like she was six again?”
He didn’t answer. Not with words. But I saw his hand twitch. His jaw flexed. His eyes darkened like he wanted to rip the walls off this house and throw me onto whatever was left. And that only made it worse. That only
made me wetter.
“God, you’re so bossy,” I purred, swaying on my feet like I was about to give in–only to pull back again.
“You stand there, looking all bloodstained and dangerous with your voice deep and your hand still twitching like you’re deciding whether to grab my throat or throw me over your shoulder, and you think just saying come here is enough to make me crawl?”
I took one slow step forward, just enough for him to smell me. I was dripping. I could feel it. My heat was back, flooding me like it wanted to ruin the floor under my feet.
The scent of it was thick in the room, mixing with his blood and my sweat and the fading trace of Tasha’s perfume that was slowly, finally, being erased.
“You don’t even know what it felt like watching you grab her,” I whispered, my voice thick with filth. “Wat your hand wrap around her throat. Watching her eyes go wide while you told her you’d forget she was your daughter. I swear to the f*****g Moon, Damon–I almost came right there.”
His fingers curled at his sides. His teeth clenched. His entire chest rose like he was holding back a snarl.
I took another step. But not close enough for him to grab me. I knew the edge. I knew exactly how far I could
go before he broke.
“You’re still holding back,” I said, licking my bottom lip slow. “And I don’t get it. You let me fight your family, you let me scream until my vojce cracked, you stood there and watched me tell them to get the f**k out of this house–and now what? You’re just going to stand there and whisper for me to come to you?”
1 tilted my head. My voice dipped lower.
Beg Me Kitten
“Say please,” I said, pouting. “Beg your naughty little Luna to crawl to you. Or better yet… come get me
He took one step forward.
I immediately took one step back.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” I said, laughing breathlessly. “You like watching me run my mouth. You like knowing I’m standing here dripping under your shirt with nothing on, mouthing off like I don’t know you’re two seconds away from snapping and f*****g me through the damn floor.”
My hand slid between my thighs. Just the tip of my fingers. I didn’t touch anything deep. Just enough to gather the slick and bring it back up to my lips. I licked it slowly, dramatically, and then smiled.
“I taste like your f*****g Luna,” I said. “Do you have any idea how badly I need you right now? Do you have any idea how wet I got the second you hit her? I was standing here soaked and proud and f*****g buzzing for you while you made them leave.”
He growled. Loud. Sharp. The kind that made my n*****s pinch even harder and my breath catch in my throat.
Still, I didn’t stop as I pulled the shirt of my body.
“You’re still dressed,” I said, pouting again. “And that’s rude, Daddy. Because I’m right here, bare, soaked for you, and you’re just… waiting. Standing there like you’re not going to grab me and make me scream your
name until the whole pack hears me.”
I stepped even closer this time, close enough for his fingers to brush my waist–but I danced out of reach
again with a giggle.
“You want me to come here?” I whispered. “You want me to crawl to you on my knees and beg for your knot
while you growl in my ear and tell me I’m yours?”
I paused.
My voice dropped to a soft, dirty whimper.
“Then come make me.”
I didn’t want soft.
I wanted that thing behind his eyes to break.
So I circled him.
Slow.
One step. Then another. Like I was stalking him. Like I was the predator in heat and he was the prey–big, dangerous, and begging to be unchained.
I let my fingers drag across his shoulders. Down his spine. Over his arm where the muscle flexed so
almost moaned. I leaned close enough for my breath to tickle the back of his neck.
“You’re trembling,” I whispered, and my voice was dripping with it. Dirty. Breathless. Sweet like poison. “Is it that hard not to grab me? You want to be good, don’t you, Daddy? You want to show me you have control.
That you’re calm. That you can handle a mouthy little Omega without snapping.”
I giggled. Soft. But it cut.
“But I know the truth,” I purred. “You’re one second away from losing it. You’re standing there thinking about
Beg Me Kitten
everything you could do to me and trying to be civilized. But guess what?”
I slipped back around in front of him, slowly dragging my hands down the center of his chest, stopping right
above his belt.
“I don’t want civilized.”
I looked up at him, my eyes wide and wet and wild, and I dragged one hand under his shirt, sliding my fingers
up his abs, nails lightly scratching over the ridges of heat and skin until I felt his breath stutter,
“I want rough,” I said. “I want the version of you that slapped your daughter and threw your ex out with nothing but a look. I want the version that grabbed her throat and made my p***y gush without even touching me.”
I pressed closer. Not all the way. Not enough to touch. Just close enough that he could feel the heat of me
through the air between us.
“Because I’m still wet,” I whispered. “Still dripping. thighs glued together, breathless, wrecked–and you’re doing nothing about it. And that’s cruel.”
His nostrils flared.
Good.
I licked my lips, dragged my hand back down his chest, slower this time. Teasing every button. Every line of
heat I could feel under the fabric. My voice dropped again.
“You know what I need, don’t you?”
He didn’t speak.
But I saw the hunger in his eyes. The violence shaking in his muscles. The grip in his jaw like he was biting
back a growl.
“You know I can’t go to sleep like this,” I murmured. “Not with your scent all over me and your knot still missing from my cunt. Not when I stood here and defended you with my mouth while my p***y was soaking down my thighs. Not when I told your daughter to get the f**k out and I was soaking wet the entire time.”
I gasped, softly, teasing my fingers under the hem of the shirt.
“I should be punished,” I whispered, fluttering my lashes. “Right? For teasing you? For mouthing off? For telling them to leave like I run the house? For falling for Camilla’s lies?”
I leaned up onto my toes and whispered against his lips.
“Or maybe I should be rewarded.”
The words left my lips like a secret I already knew the answer to. And I didn’t pull away. I didn’t bl. even breathe. I just leaned closer–so close our mouths almost touched–and I whispered it.
Slow. Dirty. Shameless.
didn’t
“I want your c**k in my throat first,” I said, and my voice was breathless, wrecked, all sweet seduction and
heat–drenched filth.
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