Daddy Alpha I’m In Heat (Lily and Connor) novel Chapter 11

~Lily~

Fuck.

He actually listened to me.

He listened to me begging him like a slut. He heard me when I said “Please daddy” like it belonged to him.

And now I’m here, slammed against the wall of his room with his hand still gripping my wrist, his breath heavy, his eyes dark, and I can’t even think straight.

I can feel how soaked my panties are, clinging to my pussy like I’ve just stepped out of the shower, except it’s worse because it’s him that did it. Just his voice.

Just the memory of his fingers. Just the fucking knowledge that he was on the other side of the wall getting off to my moans while I cried out for a cock I’ve never even had inside me. He thought I didn’t hear him.

And now he’s standing in front of me, silent and dangerous, breathing like he’s trying not to rip me apart. I can feel his heat. I can feel how close he is. I can feel how bad he wants to touch me again but is holding himself back like he’s doing me a favor.

But I don’t want him to hold back. I want him to lose it.

I want him to fuck me.

“Please,” I whisper, and I hate how small I sound, how breathy and broken my voice is, but I mean it.

I don’t want to pretend anymore.

I don’t want to go back to my room and cum on my fingers while crying into the pillow again. I want him. I want the real thing. I want to be split open and filled and knotted and ruined so badly I can’t walk tomorrow.

He doesn’t say a word, but I feel it. I see it in his eyes. I see how hard he’s trying to keep his control. I see how his chest is rising and falling faster, how his jaw keeps clenching like he’s about to snap. “I need it,” I say louder, my voice still shaking. “I need you to fuck me. I need to feel what it’s like. I don’t care if it hurts. I don’t care if I scream. I want it. I want you. I want your cock inside me. I want to be the first pussy you’ve ever ruined.”

He still doesn’t speak, but I feel his cock now, thick and hard and pressed up against my stomach. And my brain breaks. I can’t stop talking. I can’t stop moving.

I press my thighs together and shift against the wall, rubbing up against him like a little animal in heat, because I am. That’s what I am now. I’m in heat. I’m soaking. I’m aching. I’m shaking with how badly I want to be fucked.

“You’re hard,” I whisper again, and now I’m smiling a little, drunk on how he’s reacting to me. “You jerked off to me, didn’t you? I heard you. You came with your cock in your hand while I was moaning for you, didn’t you, Daddy? And now you’re hard again just from looking at me.”

I couldn’t believe he was hard again.

I knew it. I knew he couldn’t look at me like that–look at my lips, my t**s, my eyes all wide and wet and full of fucking need, without getting hard all over again.

I can see it pressing through his pants now, thick and mean and twitching like it’s mad he hasn’t let it out yet. And it makes me moan. Just the sight of it. Just the outline of that cock I’ve dreamed about riding since the first time he said my name in that voice,

And then I do it.

I reach for it.

1 press my hand flat against that bulge, and the heat hits me instantly. His cock is so fucking hard it feels like it might rip through his pants, and my whole body reacts before my brain can even catch up.

I let out the filthiest sound I’ve ever made in my life, something between a gasp and a groan and I drag my palm over the full length of it, slow and greedy, from the base all the way up to the swollen tip straining at the zipper.

“Fuck,” I breathe, staring at his pants like I’m hypnotized. “You’re so fucking hard. And thick. I can feel everything.”

I stroke him again, feeling every vein through the fabric, every pulse, every inch of cock that’s been tormenting me since the second I laid eyes on him.

“That means I have an effect on you,” I whisper, licking my lips, rubbing him harder, gripping his cock through the fabric like I can’t help it. “Just as much as you have on me. You’re hard because of me. You’re throbbing because of my voice. My body. My cunt. My fucking need for you.”

My pussy clenches around nothing, hot and messy, slick pooling between my thighs like my body is trying to get his cock inside me without his help.

“Connor,” I say again, voice breaking around his name, “I want to see it. I want to see your cock. The cock I moaned about while I came into my fingers. The cock I picture every time I’m alone and aching. I want to see the massive fucking cock I’ve been dreaming about sliding inside me while l cry into your chest and beg for more.”

He tilts his head at me like he’s trying to decide whether to ruin me slow or rip me open on the spot. Then his hand moves.

He brings it up to my face, and I feel his fingers trace over my lips. Like he’s marking me, reminding me who I belong to before I even get the chance to speak again.

Then he drags that same hand down, over my throat, down my chest until he cups one of through the fabric of my dress.

I gasp.

His fingers are big, rough, hot. He doesn’t squeeze yet. He just holds me. Takes up the whole weight of my breast in his palm like it belongs to him, and I swear my knees give out a little from the pressure building in my core.

“Show me,” I whisper, my voice shaky, high, already wrecked. “Please, Daddy. Please show me your cock. I want to see it. I want to get on my knees and wrap my lips around it. I want to see what I’ll be choking on while you hold my hair and fuck my throat.”

His eyes darken.

And then he speaks.

“Not yet, little girl,” he growls, and the sound goes straight between my legs like he’s already touched me there. “You have to earn it.”

Before I can say another word, he drops his hand to the front of my dress. And then he grabs it.

Hard.

And rips.

The fabric tears down the center, and the sound of it makes me whimper.

Then my t**s spill out.

Pink nipples already stiff and tight from how fucking bad I need him. The air hits them like a slap, and I moan again because now I’m really exposed.

Now there’s no hiding. My whole chest is on display for him, and his eyes are on it like he’s about to devour me.

“Fuck,” I breathe, panting against the wall, my back arched, my dress hanging in ruins around my hips. “You ripped my dress…”

But I love it.

I love that he did it. I love that he couldn’t wait. I love that he was so desperate to see me that he tore it apart with his bare hands.

“Fuck,” Connor groaned, his voice raw and deep like it had been dragged from the bottom of his throat. His gaze burned a hole straight through my chest, locking on my t**s like they were the only thing that mattered. “Look at your t**s. Fuck, Lily.”

I felt his eyes like heat. Like pressure. My breath stuttered, nipples aching under the soft fabric of my tank top.

He didn’t just look, he stared like a man possessed, like my chest had ruined him and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

His cock twitched in his pants, a thick, angry bulge that only grew harder, thicker, meaner with every breath. I wanted to cry.

I wanted to drop to my knees. I wanted him to rip it out and shove it down my throat. My head was screaming. Release it. Take it out. Please, Daddy. I need it.

He ran his hand over his mouth, clenching his jaw so tight his teeth ground. Then his voice dropped again, dark and sinful.

“Look at your massive t**s, Lily,” he growled. “How the fuck does a little girl like you have t**s like that?” His palm moved like it had a mind of its own, cupping my left breast like he was checking to see if it was real. He squeezed. Hard. I whimpered.

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