“You think?”
“I think if my dad sees you in that, he’s gonna lock you in the basement and never let you leave.”
I laughed…but my thighs clenched. Because that didn’t sound like a punishment. It sounded like a promise. Tasha spun and slapped her own ass.
“Come on! Everyone’s here. We’re doing shots on the floaties.”
I followed her down the stairs into the water, the cold slicing against my heat, my n*****s hardening instantly. It felt filthy. Like a tease. Like a f**k waiting to happen. There were at least six people already in the pool. Molly..black hair, big t**s, chewing her straw like it was a c**k. Her top was red and practically useless, her n*****s dark and pushing against the soaked triangles. Violet..curvy, thick, always pouting. Her bikini was gold. Her t**s floated on the surface of the water like soft s*x toys begging for hands. Sofia…tiny, tan, loud. Her string top was slipping and she didn’t even bother to fix it. Three boys were near the deep end. Big. Tall. Alpha-blooded. Practically naked. Their shorts clung to thick, veiny c***s that swelled the fabric. I couldn’t stop looking. Matteo…tattooed. Scar across his brow. d**k so fat it looked painful. Romano..quiet, broody, but packing a c**k that curved like a weapon, heavy enough to swing in his shorts every time he moved. And Nico..cocky as f**k. His bulge was massive. Thick at the base, fat at the tip. The kind that made your jaw ache just thinking about it. I swam slowly, feeling the water glide over my body like a stranger’s tongue. When I surfaced, Tasha handed me a shot.
“To filthy f*****g summers,” she grinned. We clinked. We drank. The burn was nothing compared to what I felt inside.
“I missed you so much,” she whispered, wet and drunk and glittering in the sun.
“This summer’s gonna ruin us.”
She pressed her lips to my cheek. Her t**s brushed my chest. Her fingers lingered. Then someone pushed her under. Chaos broke out. Splashes. Screams. Laughter. And in the middle of it? Matteo. He climbed out of the pool like sin rising from the deep. Water poured off his chest. His shorts clung to his thighs. His c**k bulged like it was trying to break free. My mouth went dry. Then Romano grabbed Violet waist underwater and pulled her into his lap. She gasped..loud. Slapped his chest. Moaned when he bit her shoulder. No one cared. No one looked away. Violet ground her hips against him, moaning louder, wet sounds echoing as the water sloshed. He pulled her bikini to the side under the surface. I could see the motion. His hand. Her twitch. She was riding his fingers. Right there in the pool. I turned to Nico. He winked at me. Then swam up behind Sofia and wrapped his arms around her chest. One hand palmed her tit. The other slipped beneath the water. She arched back against him with a filthy little moan. Tasha was laughing. Her n*****s poking out. Her legs brushing mine. And I was soaked. But not from the pool. I moved to the edge. Climbed up. Sat on the hot tile with my legs dangling in. That’s when I felt it. Him. The stare. My spine straightened. My n*****s tightened. I didn’t need to look. But I did. High above. Second-floor balcony. Damon. Leaning on the railing. Shirtless again. Cocky. Dangerous. Unmoving. Just watching. His eyes locked on me like a sniper’s scope. Like he could see my cunt clenching through the water. Like he could smell what was leaking out of me. I should’ve covered myself. I didn’t. I arched my back a little. Spread my knees just a hair. Let him look. I wanted him hard. I wanted him furious. I wanted him down here with his hand on my throat and my body bent over the nearest chair. The pool exploded with moans. Sofia was getting fingered hard now. Nico’s hand worked beneath the water while her head rolled back, mouth open, t**s bouncing. Violet was full-on grinding on Romano’s c**k. I could see it through the water. The movement. The tension. The way her t**s slapped against his chest. Her moans were real. Tasha laughed again, then swam toward me, breasts bouncing in the water, tongue flicking out to taste salt or s*x or both.
“You okay?” she asked, grabbing the edge beside me. I nodded, barely breathing. Her hand found my thigh under the water.
“You’re trembling,” she whispered. I looked at her. Then looked up. Damon was still there. Watching. Tasha didn’t follow my gaze. She didn’t know. She just leaned close. Her voice was a purr.
“You want to be f****d so bad, don’t you?”
I couldn’t speak. She dragged her fingers higher. Past my thigh. Under my suit. Straight to my p***y. I jerked. She didn’t stop.
“I knew it,” she giggled.
“You’re soaked. And it’s not the pool.”
“Tasha…”
“Shh,” she whispered, her fingers stroking.
“Just for a second. Just let go.”
And I did. I came with a whimper. A soft, broken sound that melted on the sun. She kissed my cheek and giggled again.
“Told you this summer would ruin us.”
And when I looked up? Damon was gone. But I knew..next time? He wouldn’t be watching. He’d be doing. And he’d make me come so hard I’d forget my name.
She Craves Him
**Lyra**
That night, I couldn’t take it anymore. Tasha passed out early, curled in a silk robe on her massive bed, mumbling about hangovers and cousins and how she’d totally f**k Nico if he didn’t flirt with everything that moved. I didn’t answer. I didn’t breathe. Because my skin was on fire. And the only thing I could think about was him. Damon Thornvale. Watching me from that balcony like he already owned every inch of me. Like he knew I’d let him f**k me in the pool if he crooked a finger. Like I’d crawl to him…naked, dripping, on my knees..if he told me to. The house was quiet. Silent. But I could feel him. In the walls. In the air. In the throb between my legs that refused to die. I slipped out of bed, my breath shallow, my skin flushed. I grabbed a towel..not to use, just to look normal. And I padded barefoot down the hall. Not a sound. Not a creak. I reached the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Then I turned on the shower. Scalding. Steam curled around me instantly, fogging the mirror, kissing my neck, dragging down my spine like invisible fingers. I dropped the towel. Stood naked. And stared at myself. Nipples tight. Breasts flushed. Thighs glistening with arousal before the water even hit me. My p***y was already slick. So wet it clung to my inner thighs like syrup. So swollen it looked obscene. I stepped into the shower and braced my hands on the tile. Let the water pour down my back. Let the steam soak into my bones. But it didn’t help. It didn’t burn it away. Because my thoughts? They were pure filth. Daddy. That’s what I called him in my head. Not Damon. Not Mr. Thornvale. Not Alpha. Just Daddy. Because that’s what he was. The man who watched me like prey. The man who made my cunt pulse just by existing. The man I wanted to ruin me. I thought about his voice…deep, slow, the kind that slid between your legs before your brain could stop it. I imagined him behind me. Hot breath at my neck. Big hands on my hips. That voice…right at my ear.
“You like touching yourself for Daddy, don’t you, little Omega?”
My legs nearly gave out. I slid my hand between my thighs. And gasped. I was soaked. My folds throbbed. My clit pulsed like it was begging. I was tender. Swollen. Needy. One slow circle of my fingers and I almost cried. Another…and I moaned. My hips jerked. My mouth fell open. My knees buckled. I was f*****g desperate. I whispered his name.
“Daddy…”
The steam swirled. The water roared. And I didn’t stop. My fingers moved faster. Harder. I was panting. Whimpering. Dripping.
“Please, Daddy…”
Then. I heard it. A breath. Low. Rough. Male. Outside the door. I froze. My fingers stopped. My heart slammed against my ribs. My eyes widened. The water drowned everything else, but that sound? That breath? I knew it. I turned off the water slowly. The steam hissed. I grabbed the towel. Wrapped it around my soaked body. My thighs trembled as I stepped out onto the tile. The mirror was fogged. The room was hot. But I could feel the cold air from the hallway seeping in through the crack in the door. I reached for the handle. Pulled. The hallway was empty. But the floor? Wet. Huge. Bare footprints. Leading away. Slow. Predator’s pace. My cunt clenched so hard I whimpered. He’d been there. He’d heard me. He watched me moan his name and touch my p***y like a slut for him in the dark. And he’d walked away. Left no trace. No voice. Just a f*****g warning. A promise. I stumbled back to my room like I was drunk on him. My legs didn’t work. My breath wouldn’t settle. I dropped the towel. Crawled under the sheets. Naked. Soaked. f****d without being touched. And I couldn’t sleep. Every shadow looked like him. Every sound was his breath. And when I finally drifted off, curled on my side with my fingers resting against my cunt, I heard him. In the dark. In the dream. Low and rough and filthy.
“Keep touching yourself, little Omega. Next time, I’ll do it for you. And I won’t stop until that tight little cunt breaks open around Daddy’s cock.”
I came in my sleep. Loud. Soaked. Twisting in the sheets, whimpering like a girl who didn’t stand a chance. And when I woke up, I could still feel him. Everywhere. *** I didn’t leave my room the next morning. Couldn’t. Not after what happened. Not after waking up with the sheets soaked in my own c*m, my thighs trembling, my fingers twitching with the memory of what I’d dreamed. His voice. His promise. That filthy growl in the dark.
“Next time, I’ll do it for you…”
I’d moaned for him in my sleep. Whimpered “Daddy” into my pillow like a little w***e begging to be bred. I’d c*m so hard I thought I was dying. And I hadn’t even touched myself yet. He’d broken me from outside the room. Without laying a finger on me. That kind of power? It changed something inside me. I belonged to him now. Not officially. Not publicly. But in all the ways that mattered. He had my thoughts. He had my body. He had my f*****g soul. The hours passed in silence. I didn’t eat. Didn’t dress. I just sat in the bed, naked under the covers, pressing my thighs together and replaying it. The way the bathroom door creaked. The wet footprints. The way the mirror had fogged like he was right behind me, breathing down my neck while I fell apart. Every second made my clit throb. I didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Until the sun dropped below the trees and the house fell quiet again. Tasha was passed out in the other room, drooling into her pillow, still wearing her bikini bottoms and nothing else. She’d muttered something about Moscato and pool boys before her face hit the mattress. I waited. Watched the shadows stretch across the walls. And when the silence settled? I moved. Slow. Naked. I didn’t bother with a towel this time. Didn’t bother locking the door either. If he was going to watch? Then I was going to give him a f*****g show. I stepped into the bathroom. The tiles cold under my feet. My n*****s tight before I even turned the water on. The mirror was still smudged from last time. My scent still lingered. And it was stronger now. Feral. Heat-slick. Soaked in need. I turned the water on full blast. Scalding. The kind of heat that should’ve melted the need out of me. It didn’t. I stepped in, braced both palms against the wall, and bowed my head under the rush of the water. And whispered… “Daddy…”
My knees almost buckled. My p***y clenched. I was already soaked. Already dripping. My folds swollen. Sensitive. My clit throbbing like a live wire. I reached between my legs and groaned. Sticky. Slippery. Slutty. I rubbed slow at first. Fingertips circling. Teasing. Then faster. Harder. I moaned.
“Please…”
The water hissed. The tile steamed. And still, I kept going.
“Use me…”
I whispered.
“Make me yours…”
I imagined him behind me. Big. Silent. Furious. His eyes locked on my body. His c**k thick in his fist. Watching me unravel like a good little Omega b***h.
“You like this, Daddy?”
I gasped.
“You like watching your slut fall apart for you?”
My thighs shook. I dropped to my knees. Water pounding my back. Fingers slipping deep inside my cunt. I moaned like I wanted the whole f*****g house to hear.
“Breed me…”
I didn’t care anymore.
“f**k me…”
Submission
I f****d myself hard. Fist buried. Palm slapping wet against my clit. Juices leaking down my thighs. And then.. The door creaked. Again. Slow. Louder this time. The air changed. I felt it in my spine. In my cunt. He was there. Watching. I didn’t stop. I spread my legs wider. Arch my back. Let my p***y open wide under the steam..wet, swollen, glistening like it was already f****d raw. My fingers stayed right where I needed them, rubbing circles over my clit, faster now, slicker. Every touch made my hips jerk. Every breath was a moan.
“Do you see it, Daddy?”
I whimpered. My voice cracked. My head dropped. My mouth fell open as I kept rubbing, faster, rougher, like I needed to rub the ache out of my soul.
“I’m dripping for you…”
My free hand moved down. Slid between the cheeks of my ass. I pressed my fingers deeper..past my folds, between the swollen lips of my cunt, until I was knuckle-deep in my own heat. I f****d myself. Hard. One finger. Two. Then three. I gasped. The stretch was filthy. Loud. Soaked. Water slapped the floor. Steam curled around me like a cloak of sin. And I didn’t stop. Couldn’t.
“f**k… Daddy… fuck..”
I bit my own lip to keep from screaming. The slick squelch of my fingers plunging into my cunt echoed off the tile like porn turned up too loud. And the door? It stayed cracked. A sliver of hallway showing through. Just enough for him to watch. Just enough for him to see his little Omega b***h destroying herself for him. I rocked on my knees, ass high, back arched, mouth panting.
“Please come in…”
I whimpered it like a prayer. Like a threat. Like an orgasm waiting to detonate.
“Please use me…”
I shoved my fingers in deeper. Faster. My palm slapped my clit. I cried out..loud this time. High. Desperate. Wet. My p***y clenched around my fingers like it couldn’t take it. And then I collapsed. Right there on the floor. On my side. My thighs twitching. My belly fluttering. My cunt leaking thick, creamy strings down my leg. I rolled to my back, chest heaving, my hand still between my thighs as I rubbed slow, soft, teasing circles over my overstimulated clit. I wasn’t done. Not yet.
“Daddy…”
I moaned again, breath shaking. I reached up with my other hand..cupped my tit, squeezed it, pinched my n****e until it hurt. And I pictured him. Standing in the dark. Arms crossed. Cock hard under his pants. Watching me like I was nothing but a toy that hadn’t earned the right to be touched yet. I rubbed again. My p***y clenched again. And I came… Hard. A second time. Sloppier. Messier. My back arched. My mouth opened in a silent scream. Juice sprayed across my palm. And still..I rubbed. My fingers were raw. My clit throbbed like it had been beaten. My whole body felt swollen with s*x. And when I finally laid still? When the orgasm stopped shaking me? I looked at the door. Still cracked. Still open. But he wasn’t there. Not visibly. But I knew. I f*****g knew. He’d seen it all. And when I opened the bathroom door… The hallway was still empty. But the floor? Wet. Again. Footprints. Huge. Bare. Leading away. Slow. Just like before. Just like he wanted me to know: You’re mine. And you’ll keep doing this…until I decide you’ve earned my c**k. I stood there, trembling, thighs soaked in sweat and c*m. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. I let it sink in. The humiliation. The arousal. The dark, spiraling obsession that had wrapped around my neck like a leash. And as I crawled back to my room… On my knees. Naked. Thighs soaked in sweat and c*m. Dripping on the floor with every move. I didn’t try to hide it. I let it trail behind me..my scent, my mess, my filth. A slick, wet path across the floor that said exactly what I was. A girl in heat. A ruined little b***h. A toy Daddy hadn’t touched yet..but already owned. By the time I reached the bed, I was shaking. My knees hit the mattress like a prayer. I didn’t climb up. I offered myself. Ass up. Face down. Spine curved like a leash was yanking me from behind. And I moaned into the sheets. Because they still smelled like me. Like need. Like desperation. But the pillow… The one I’d clutched last night? It didn’t smell like me anymore. It smelled like him. Leather. Smoke. That deep, dark alpha scent that made my thighs twitch and my p***y clench before my brain could process the arousal. I dragged it into my arms. Buried my face in it like I was suffocating in his chest. And I whispered… “Daddy…”
My body trembled. My cunt throbbed. Juices smeared slick between my legs and dripped down to my knees. I rolled to my back. Spread wide. Stared at the ceiling like he was watching from above. And I touched myself. Again. Even though I was sore. Even though I was overstimulated. Even though my clit felt bruised and my cunt felt like it had been split open from the inside. I didn’t care. I needed it. I needed to c*m again. To break again. To melt under the weight of a man who wasn’t even there. My fingers slid between my folds. Hot. Sticky. So slippery I couldn’t grip anything. I circled my clit. Soft at first. Then harder. Then faster. And I whispered everything I wanted to scream.
“I’m yours…”
“I’d let you do anything…”
“Please, Daddy…”
I imagined his hand on my throat. His c**k in my mouth. His voice, filthy and low… “Good girl. That’s it. f**k yourself for me. Get that p***y ready.”
I moaned. My thighs spread wider. My heels dug into the bed. I f****d my fingers like I f****d my fingers like they were his. Like they were thick. Calloused. Commanding. Like they could wrap around my throat and shove inside me at the same time. I shoved them deeper. Curled them. Twisted my wrist until I felt that swollen spot inside me, and pressed. Hard.
“Daddy…”
It broke out of my throat like a sob. My hips snapped up, f*****g the air. Fucking my own hand. Soaking my palm with every slick, dirty thrust. My clit was swollen. Raw. Screaming. But I kept rubbing. Kept moaning. Kept crying out like a w***e in heat. Because I wanted him to hear. I wanted him to know how far gone I was. I wanted him to smell the slick pouring out of me from down the hall and come drag me by the hair, bend me over the mattress, and ruin what was left. I didn’t want soft. I didn’t want gentle. I wanted to be used. I wanted his voice in my ear saying: “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, little Omega? To be Daddy’s cumdump. To stretch that cunt open until it forgets every c**k but mine.”
I whined. Thrust my fingers harder. Slapped my clit with my palm until my thighs shook.
“Please…”
My voice was high. Broken. Full of tears.
“Please f**k me, Daddy…”
“I’m yours…please…please…”
My legs began to shake. The orgasm hit like a f*****g car crash. No warning. No slow build. Just impact. My p***y clamped around my fingers. My hips jerked violently. Cum squirted out in thick, creamy gushes that soaked the sheets beneath me. I screamed into the pillow.
“DA…Daddy…!”
My body convulsed. My vision went white. And when it was over, when I collapsed back against the mattress, soaked in sweat and shame and slick, thighs still trembling, p***y still twitching around my own fingers… I saw it. A shadow. In the doorway. Just for a second. Then gone. No footsteps. No voice. No sound. But I didn’t need it. I didn’t f*****g need confirmation. I knew it was him. I felt it in my bones. The way the air dropped five degrees. The way my n*****s peaked like he was blowing over them. The way my cunt throbbed like it wanted to apologize for being touched by anyone but him. My fingers slipped out of me with a wet, obscene squelch. I could still feel my orgasm leaking down between my cheeks, coating the backs of my thighs. I didn’t move to clean it. I didn’t move at all. I just laid there..open. On my back. Legs wide. Fingers drenched. Breathing like I’d just been wrecked by a ghost. Because I had. Because he had. And when I finally dragged my eyes to the door, to that empty space where his shadow had been.. I whispered it like a confession. Like a brand. Like a prayer to something bigger than the Moon Goddess.
“I’m yours, Daddy.”
No answer. But I didn’t need one. Because there was proof. On the floor. Right where the door had been cracked just an inch.. A faint, wet print. Barefoot. Massive. Facing inward. Like he’d been standing there. Watching. The whole time. And now he’d left it for me. A message. A claim. I sat up slowly, c*m dripping down my inner thighs, my cunt sore and gaping from how hard I’d f****d myself. I bent forward..wincing..and touched the print with my fingertips. Still damp. Still warm. My breath caught in my throat. My pulse pounded in my ears. I curled my fingers into the sheets, dragged myself back onto the mattress, collapsed on my side like a girl who’d just been knotted. Even though she hadn’t been touched. Not yet. And I whispered it again.
“Please. Next time… let me taste you.”
Ruin Me Daddy
**Lyra**
I didn’t speak at breakfast. I didn’t eat either. I just sat there like a f*****g ghost in a silk robe that clung too tight to my overheated skin, trying not to breathe too loud or shift too much. Trying to convince myself the tea in my hand was hot, that my body wasn’t flushed from memory, from ache, from him. But it was a lie. All of it. Because my thighs were already wet. My p***y was already throbbing. And every breath that touched my lungs was tainted with his scent. Across the table, Tasha was doing what Tasha did best…running her mouth like it had never been f****d shut. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, scrolling through her phone like she was casting spells with every swipe.
“So. I was thinking lake house for my birthday. Something elegant. Something Luna-worthy, you know? But also slutty. Like. Give ’em goddess but make it porn.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.