Daddy Alpha I’m In Heat (Lily and Connor) novel Chapter 13

~Lily~

I had to sneak out.

Like actually sneak. On a yacht. Half–naked.

Do you know how humiliating it is to tiptoe through a luxury hallway with no bra on, wearing a crumpled towel and panties that are clinging to me like they’ve just survived a hurricane? My hair was a disaster.

My nipples were still hard. My thighs were still shaking. And my face probably looked like I’d just been dragged through five rounds of sex and slapped with sin.

Because guess what?

I had been.

Okay, maybe not five rounds. But that man finger–fucked my soul against the wall, whispered shit in my ear that I’ll never recover from, and left me standing there looking like the cover of a porn novel while my best friend banged on the fucking door looking for me. And now here I am. Walking.

Waddling. Praying I don’t run into anyone.

I kept my head down like that was going to hide the fact that my t**s were literally bouncing, nipples poking through like they were trying to snitch on me.

Every step made me clench because I could feel it, the wetness still dripping from my pussy, sliding down my inner thigh like shame.

And don’t even get me started on how fucking red my chest was. He pinched my nipple so hard I might as well tattooed Daddy was here across it.

When I finally reached my room, I didn’t walk in. I crashed. I’slammed the door shut and dropped my face into the pillow like I’d just survived war. I didn’t even change right away.

I just laid there, spread out like a murder victim, t**s still out, panties still twisted, breath still uneven.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” I whispered to myself like I was trying to make sense of what just happened.

“That really happened. That actually happened. My best friend’s dad fingered me. Sucked my t**s. Growled in my ear. And made me promise not to moan while she was on the other side of the door.

I flipped over dramatically, threw an arm over my face like I was in a fucking soap opera, and groaned into the ceiling. “God is watching me. God is judging me. The angels are packing their bags. My guardian angel just quit. She said, ‘That’s it, I’m out, you nasty whore. Find Jesus.”

I was still wet.

Still clenching.

Still aching like my pussy had developed abandonment issues the second he pulled his fingers out.

“And why the fuck did I say suck my t**s, Daddy?” I groaned, dragging a pillow over my face like I could suffocate the memory. “What is actually wrong with me? Who says that? Who lets those words come out of their mouth while their best friend’s father is growling into their n****@?”

I sat up for a second, looked down at myself, and immediately laid back down again like life was too much. My tank top was a disaster.

My nipples were still red and swollen. There was a literal bite mark on my breast. A fucking bite mark. Like I was some sort of meal.

“Oh my God,” I whispered again, covering my face. “This is not normal teenage girl behavior. Normal girls go swimming.

“They drink mocktails. They flirt with boys their own age. I’m out here moaning into yacht walls while a grown–ass man fingers me into oblivion and tells me not to make a sound. What the actual fuck is my life right now?”

And the worst part?

I wanted more.

I fucking wanted more.

My pussy was still clenching. Still twitching. Still dripping like it was crying because Daddy left it high and dry. I hadn’t even cum.

I was wrecked, overstimulated, leaking, and unsatisfied. And now I had to go change clothes and pretend to be normal. Pretend I wasn’t one wrong word away from marching back into that man’s cabin and begging to be fucked until I forgot my name.

I rolled over and grabbed a fresh pair of panties. My hands were shaking. My thighs were still sticky.

“I’m going to Hell,” I muttered again. “And I’m going to ride his cock on the way down.”

But I could not just keep silent. Nope. My brain was on high speed. Fuck!! I could not still believe it!!!!

“He fingered me!!” I screamed, shooting upright like someone yanked me off the mattress with a puppet string. My hair flew. My t**s bounced. My soul left my body.

“OH MY GOD, HE FINGERED ME,” I screamed. Like out loud. Like full–blown Disney Channel meltdown moment. “Connor FINGERED ME.”

I leapt off the bed and did the most chaotic, slutty little dance in front of the mirror.

The towel was still twisted under my boobs, one tit completely out, my panties so ruined they were sticking to my thighs like I’d just been swimming in sin.

My nipples were red. There were bite marks. I looked like sex. I looked like I’d just stepped out of one of those dirty Dreame books I secretly devoured when I was supposed to be doing homework.

“He fingered me,” I kept repeating like I was hypnotized. “He fingered me. Me. Lily. His daughter’s best friend. Against a wall. On a yacht. While my best friend was literally on the other side of the door.”

I bent over, slapped my knees, and started laughing like a lunatic. “My fucking imaginations are becoming reality. My forbidden w*****d delusions? Alive and thriving. My Dreame stories? Not just fiction anymore. Bitch, they’re my autobiography.”

I spun around and pointed at my reflection like I was in the mirror giving a TED Talk. “Next is his cock. HIS cock. The big one. The one that’s been staring at me through his pants like it knows my name. Like it’s been waiting for me. Like it has a personal vendetta against my untouched little pussy.”

I grabbed a pillow, screamed into it, then threw it across the room and stomped around like I was on stage. “YES! FUCKING YES! I AM READY TO SIN. I WILL RIDE THAT cock LIKE A DAMN SEA HORSE. TIE ME UP, RUIN ME, BREED ME, I DON’T CARE. JUST GIVE ME THE DICK.”

I collapsed back onto the bed, legs spread, t**s out, body a wreck of sweat and arousal and post–fingered delusion. My breath was shaky. My brain was jelly. My pussy was practically sobbing.

“Okay,” I said out loud, trying to come back to planet Earth. “Calm down, Lily.”

I sat up slowly, hands trembling, thighs sticking together. My whole body was still buzzing from his touch. I could still feel the exact curve of his fingers inside me,

Still taste the words he whispered in my ear. Still see the way his eyes darkened when I begged him to suck my t**s. My pussy clenched at the memory and I nearly screamed again.

“Calm the fuck down,” I hissed, fanning myself like that was going to cool the inferno inside me.

“You’re fine. You’re going to act like a normal girl. You’re going to pick out a dress, walk to the lounge, smile at people, and pretend like you didn’t almost cum while your best friend was knocking on the door looking for you.”

I walked over to my suitcase, yanked out a sundress that screamed innocence even though my insides were anything but, and stared at it like it was supposed to save me.

“You’re going to put this on,” I told myself while pacing. “You’re going to comb your hair. You’re going to walk past him like he didn’t see you naked. And you are not going to beg for his cock. No matter how hard it looked pressing against your ass.”

I screamed again. Loud. Full body. Flop–back–on–the–bed dramatic. “ARGHHHHHHHH!”

I rolled around like a worm, kicking my legs in the air. “FUCK. I NEED HIM SO BAD. I CAN STILL FEEL HIS FINGERS. WHY DID HE STOP. WHY DID HE LEAVE. WHY AM I STILL SOAKED.”

I finally forced myself up, yanked off the sticky panties, wiped my thighs with a towel, and threw on the dress even though my nipples were still so hard they poked through the fabric.

“Okay,” I whispered, smoothing it down. “You got this. Just smile. Pretend nothing happened. Just a normal girl. Just a casual yacht day. Not a ruined, horny, cum–starved little slut with Daddy’s growl stuck in her head.”

“You got this Lily. Calm down” I whispered again, standing in front of the mirror like I was about to walk into a courtroom instead of a yacht lounge.

My hands were gripping the edges of the little table beneath the mirror, my chest still rising and falling like I’d just run a fucking marathon.

My dress was on, yes, but my body was still a wreck. My hair was messy. My nipples were still poking through the fabric like they had a fucking agenda. My thighs were still sticky. And my brain? My brain was hanging on by a thread.

“Take a deep breath,” I told myself, nodding slowly, wide–eyed, trying to believe I could hold it together.

“Breathe in,” I whispered, sucking in the air like it could fill the gaping hole between my legs.

“Breathe out.”

I exhaled. Tried again.

“That’s it. Just breathe. You’re normal. You’re fine. You’re a sweet, innocent girl on vacation with her best friend’s family. You did not get finger–fucked by her dad and left panting against a wall like a ruined little slut.”

But then my brain replayed it.

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