Breed Me. Daddy Alpha novel Chapter 77

Addicted To Pain

Addicted To Pain

~Lyra~

“Don’t,” I said, and my voice was already shaking. My hands were shaking. My whole f*****g soul was shaking. “Just–don’t. Don’t come in here, Damon. Don’t you dare walk into this room like you have the right. Like you can just show up and fix it with that stupid face and those quiet eyes and that I’m–so–calm bullshit you do when you know you’ve already ruined me.”

He stepped forward again, but I snapped backward so fast my foot hit the edge of the bed frame and I winced. I didn’t even care.

“I’m serious,” I said, my voice rising, filling the space between us like a scream held in a cage. “Don’t. Don’t even try to act like you didn’t just let her touch you. Because I saw it, Damon. I saw it with my own two eyes, okay? I stood there like a goddamn i***t and watched her kiss you. And you let her. You didn’t push her away. You didn’t say stop. You just stood there.”

My throat burned. My lips were trembling. My heart was slamming so violently inside my chest that I was sure it was going to burst.

“I saw her reach for your c**k,” I spat. “Do you even know what that felt like? Do you know what it feels like to be so full of someone that your body’s still dripping, still raw, still twitching–and then watch some beautiful, perfect, magazine–cover woman unzip her top and touch the same d**k that was just inside you like she’s reclaiming what’s hers?”

1 choked.

Not on words.

On the ache rising up my throat like fire.

“You told me she was dead.”

My voice cracked completely.

“You said she was dead, Damon. Like–dead. As in gone. As in not breathing. And I–God, I felt bad for you. I actually felt sorry for you. I held your face in my hands and kissed you like I could make it better.I thought maybe I could help you heal.

“But I wasn’t helping you heal anything, was I? I was just a distraction. Just a warm body. Just someone to f**k while the real woman was gone.”

I paced.

I couldn’t stop moving.

My hands were flying through the air, my fingers clutching the sheet around my body like it was the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart in front of him.

“She’s your wife, Damon!” I yelled. “Your wife! And I’m just–I’m just some stupid eighteen–year–old with no clue what she’s doing, who thought that maybe, maybe, if I gave you everything, you’d actually see me. That

you’d choose me.”

I laughed. A bitter, breathless sound that didn’t even feel like it came from me.

O

Addicted To Ram

“But of course you didn’t choose me,” I said, volce softer now but no less cracked, “Why would you? I’m just a little girl to you. Some pretty little thing to ruin while you wait for your actual life to come walking back through the door in heels and lip gloss. Right?”

I stopped.

Stared at him.

And the silence between us felt like it could’ve drowned a goddamn universe.

“I let you mark me,” I whispered. “I let you f**k me on your bed. I let you do things to me that I’ve never even told anyone I wanted. And you stood there and let her undress. Let her kiss you. Let her put her hand on you

like I wasn’t even real.”

My chest was rising and falling so fast it felt like I was going to pass out.

And I wasn’t done.

“Oh, and you know what the worst part is?” I asked, my voice trembling like I was about to break in half. “The worst part is that even now, even after seeing all of that, I still want you. I still want you to come here and tell me that you didn’t mean it. That you didn’t feel anything. That you don’t love her. That I’m the one you want. That you didn’t lie to me just to get in my pants.”

I blinked. My eyes burned. My face was wet.

And I hated how small I felt.

“I don’t want to be the girl you forget, Damon,” I said, quieter now. “I don’t want to be the stupid little mistake you f****d while your wife was gone. I don’t want to be the girl you regret.”

Then I looked up at him.

Straight into his eyes.

And my whole voice dropped.

“So why the f**k are you here? Why now? Why not stay down there with her if that’s who you want? Why did you even come upstairs?”

My voice cracked again.

“Or was I just convenient while she was away?”

I was still staring at him, still breathing like I’d just crawled out of a grave, still soaked in tears and humiliation and hurt, when he moved.

He didn’t speak right away. Didn’t rush toward me. Didn’t yell or argue or try to explain. He just stood there for

a second, watching me with this quiet, dark, devastating look in his eyes that made my chest clench so hard I almost collapsed again.

And then he said it.

In that voice.

That low, husky, completely wrecked voice that I swear came from the deepest part of his chest.

“Come here, kitten.”

Oh f**k.

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Addicted To Pain

Oh f**k.

My whole body froze.

Everything inside me just–short–circuited. Like someone unplugged my brain and poured lava into my bloodstream instead. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

My wolf was already whining in the back of my mind, already clawing at the inside of my ribs like she needed to obey him, like she wanted to sink to her knees and purr for him like we weren’t just crying five seconds

ago.

I stared at him.

My lips parted.

My heart was slamming so violently I swear I could hear it echoing inside my head.

“Don’t,” I whispered, even though my feet were already moving, even though the sheet I was clutching started to slip from my chest, even though my body was already burning for him again. “Don’t say things like that, Damon. Don’t call me that. I’m mad at you. I hate you. I hate what you did-”

“Kitten,” he said again, slower this time, his voice thick and broken and dark enough to make my knees go soft, “come. Here.”

I couldn’t resist.

I didn’t want to.

I let the sheet drop to the floor.

Just like that.

I stood there naked now cause the sheets fell off my skin, my skin still blotchy from crying, my thighs still sticky from everything he left inside me, my cheeks wet, my lips trembling and I walked straight toward him like I wasn’t shaking, like I wasn’t broken, like I didn’t just scream at him and wish I’d never met him.

Because even after all of that..I still wanted him/

I still needed him.

I reached him, standing barely a foot away, and my chest was already heaving again, but not from sadness

this time.

From heat.

From the way he was looking at me like I was still the only girl in the world.

He didn’t wait.

He didn’t ask.

He just grabbed me.

His hand went to my jaw and tilted my head up, and then his mouth crashed down on mine with this feral, desperate kind of hunger that stole every f*****g thought from my brain.

And I let him.

I let him kiss me like I was his.

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Addicted To Pain

I kissed him back like I was never going to survive without him.

And when his tongue slid into my mouth, slow and deep and possessive, I moaned so loud into the kiss! thought I was going to collapse right there in his arms.

His hands were all over me now.

My waist. My back. My ass.

He gripped me like he was anchoring himself, like if he didn’t hold me hard enough, I might disappear. I felt him harden against me instantly–f**k, he was already hard and the second I felt that thick bulge press between my legs, I whimpered like a f*****g addict.

“I hate you,” I whispered against his mouth, even though my nails were already digging into his shoulders, even though I was grinding against him like I needed him inside me again.

“No, you don’t,” he growled, and the sound of his voice vibrated straight through my throat and into my cunt. You hate that you love me.”

“Shut up,” I moaned, wrapping my legs around his waist as he lifted me without a single effort, like I weighed nothing, like I was something he owned.

“Don’t say s**t like that to me. Not after everything. Not when I still want to slap you. Not when I still want to

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