Daddy Alpha I’m In Heat (Lily and Connor) novel Chapter 9

~Lily-

He found my clit.

And I swear I almost screamed. My whole body jolted like I’d been plugged into a live wire, and I had to slap my hand over my mouth to stop the noise that tore out of me.

It was too much. Too good. Too hot. The way his finger pressed against that aching little spot..right there, right on the bundle of nerves that had been pulsing for him since the moment he opened his mouth..made me go absolutely blank.

I forgot how to stand. I forgot how to think. My knees wobbled. My thighs clenched.

My nipples turned to stone under my dress, and I swear I felt a fresh gush of slick spill out of me, soaking the panties that were already a lost cause.

His touch wasn’t soft. It wasn’t teasing.It was fucking slow.

He rubbed.

One circle.

Then another.

Just enough pressure to make my back arch and my breath catch and my lips part in a gasp so desperate it barely sounded human.

My hand grabbed his forearm before I could stop myself.

Not to pull him away..God, no. But just to hold onto something.

Because I was slipping. I was drowning in it. Every rub sent a lightning bolt straight to my brain. Every drag of his finger made my pussy clench with need so sharp I almost cried.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice right in my ear like he was speaking straight into my bloodstream. “You like Daddy’s fingers on your filthy little clit?”

I nodded.

I was past the point of shame. Past the point of pretending. I wanted to beg. I wanted to drop to my knees and sob into his thigh and thank him for even touching me like that.

My body wasn’t just reacting..it was breaking. My thighs were trembling so hard I could barely stand, and the worst part was knowing I was about to cum. Just from this.

Just from his fingers. Just from the circles he was drawing like he already knew my body better than I did.

“You’re dripping,” he growled, his finger slowing down just enough to make my breath stutter in my chest. “You’re fucking soaked. You were made to be ruined, weren’t you, little girl?”

I nodded again. Fast. Frantic. Every nerve in my body was begging him to keep going.

Every thought I’d ever had about him felt pale compared to this..this filthy pressure building inside me, this knot winding tighter and tighter as his finger rubbed slow, devastating circles right over my clit. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t enough. It was perfect.

“Do you even know how close you are?” he whispered. “You’re about to cum all over my hand just from this, aren’t you? Just from one little touch. One dirty little rub. Pathetic.”

I didn’t even care. I didn’t care if he called me names. I didn’t care if he laughed while I fell apart. I wanted it. I needed it.

My hips started moving without me even realizing it, rocking into his hand like my body was trying to fuck his fingers, desperate for more friction, more pressure, more..just more.

And then he stopped.

He fucking stopped.

He pulled his hand back slowly, the pads of his fingers dragging against my slick skin, collecting all the wetness I had no control over, and the loss of contact made me whimper.

My clit was still throbbing. My pussy was still clenched and desperate, aching so badly I wanted to scream.

I was right there. Right on the edge. One more rub and I would’ve been gone. I would’ve cum hard. Loud. Shamefully.

But he didn’t let me.

He brought his hand to his mouth instead. His fingers glistened. They were soaked in me. Dripping. Coated.

Then he sucked them.

One finger. Then two.

Slowly.

Greedily.

While staring into my eyes like he was tasting the most forbidden thing in the fucking world and loving every second of it.

“This won’t happen again,” he said, licking his lips like I was still on his tongue. “You hear me?

I was still panting. My heart was pounding in my ears. My thighs were slick and shaking and my clit felt like it was still being touched even though it wasn’t. I wanted to scream. Cry. Cum. Anything.

But I didn’t move.

Because I couldn’t.

“Now go to the lounge,” he ordered, as casually as if he hadn’t just fingered me within seconds of orgasm and then left me to suffer with it.

“Get yourself a drink. Wipe your face. Clean that mess between your legs. And make sure no one sees you dripping down your thighs, little girl.”

Just like that.

Like he hadn’t touched me. Like he hadn’t just rubbed my clit until I was shaking and soaked and seconds from cumming.

Like I wasn’t standing there panting, nipples hard, thighs sticky, soaked all the way through my panties, my legs trembling from how bad I needed to be fucked.

Like I was supposed to just walk away.

Like I was supposed to fix my dress and get a drink and sit down and smile like my pussy wasn’t still throbbing from the heat of his fingers.

“Please,” I said, and I hated how my voice sounded..shaky and broken and too fucking soft, like I’d already lost.

Like I was already defeated and dripping and begging just from those few cold words. I wasn’t supposed to care this much.

I wasn’t supposed to want him this badly. But I did. I cared so much it hurt, and I wanted him. so badly my cunt was still clenching like it thought he might come back. “Please, Connor, don’t do this to me.”

He stopped walking.

Not all the way. Not like he turned around. But he paused. Like he’d heard something he wasn’t ready to admit out loud.

Like my voice–my ruined, whimpering, needy little voice–had wormed its way under his skin and cracked something open.

“Please fuck me,” I said next, louder this time. It came out fast. Too fast. Like I’d been holding it in for so long that the second the words slipped out, the rest came pouring after them like a fucking flood I couldn’t stop.

“Please. I’m not playing games. I’m not being cute. I’m not some clueless little girl teasing just for fun. I’m wet. I’m ruined. I’m literally throbbing. I can still feel your fingers on me and it’s making me crazy. I swear, I can’t walk to that lounge like this. I’ll be dripping down my thighs before I make it to the end of the hallway.”

He didn’t speak. But I knew he was listening. I saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides, like he wanted to stay calm but his body wasn’t letting him. I could feel the tension crackling off him like heat. And I kept going, because I knew if I stopped now, I’d cry.

“Please, Daddy,” I whispered, and the second I said it, my stomach flipped because I knew how that sounded. I knew what that word did to both of us.

“Please just fuck me. Right here. Right now. Against the wall. In the hallway. I don’t care where. I don’t care if someone hears.

“I don’t care if you don’t kiss me or hold me or even look me in the eyes. I just want your cock. I want to feel it.

“I want to feel you stretch me open so deep I forget my own name. I want to cry on your chest. I want to scream. I want to hurt.”

His fists clenched tighter. His jaw shifted. He was trying not to move. Trying not to turn around. Trying to stay in control. But he was losing.

And so was I.

I stepped forward. My legs were trembling. My thighs were soaked. My pussy was pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own. And I knew my dress was clinging to every inch of me now, damp and obvious and soaked with everything he had done to me.

“You said I couldn’t take it,” I went on, and my voice cracked but I didn’t stop. “You said I’d cry. You said I’d scream. You said I’d break.

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