And then I saw the Jeep.
Tasha was already in the driver’s seat, engine rumbling low, headlights on, one heel kicked off as she sat sideways behind the wheel with her phone pressed to her ear.
When she saw me, she threw it across the dashboard and slammed her palm against the horn.
“Finally,” she snapped, yanking the passenger door open before I could even reach for it.
“What the actual f**k, Lyra?”
I slid in quickly, the door barely shutting before she peeled out of the driveway, tires screeching like her mood.
“I told you I was grabbing something…”
“Oh shut the f**k up,” she barked, glaring at me from the corner of her eye.
“I’ve been sitting in this car for ten minutes like a loser while you were in there doing God knows what with my dad.”
Midnight Sins
I blinked.
“I wasn’t…”
“f**k you!! I was not doing anything with your dad”
“I wanted to grab my pads cause my period just started”
Tasha let out a long, dramatic groan and thumped the steering wheel.
“You better not!” she hissed as she started driving..
My heart stopped.
She wasn’t wrong.
She wasn’t wrong about any of it.
But I lied.
I couldn’t tell her how he touched me.
How he didn’t f**k me.
How I could still feel the imprint of his c**k dragging between my folds.
How my p***y was clenching even now.
“But damn girl you look drop dead gorgeous” she complimented me as continued driving.
Honestly I wasn’t worried about the attention of heft at the party.
I was worried about what Damon would do when he found out.
When he heard.
When he saw.
And I had no idea what the f**k I was walking into.
Watch vid
Who Is This Stranger? yarans
Who Is This Stranger?
The second I stepped through the door, my lungs stopped working.
Not because it was crowded. Not because the music was so loud I could feel it in my teeth. Not even because
Tasha was already pulling me forward like she was leading me into a f*****g rave.
It was the smell.
The heat.
The s*x in the air.
That sharp, humid thickness that curled around my thighs like a whisper. My cunt clenched before I even realized what was happening. My whole body responded instinctively, like my biology just clocked where the f**k we were and was like, oh… oh f**k.
Because this wasn’t just a party.
This was a goddamn orgy disguised as a house party.
People were making out in public like they couldn’t breathe unless their tongues were down someone’s throat.
A girl in the kitchen was grinding on a guy while his hand was inside her dress. Inside. And she wasn’t even trying to hide it. Just moaning softly into his mouth as his fingers disappeared up to the knuckle.
There were bodies everywhere. On counters. On couches. Some grinding on each other like they were in heat. Which, now that I think about it, they probably were.
A few had shifted partially. Fangs flashing. Eyes glowing. I watched a couple on the stairs lose control and f*****g shift during s*x. Mid-thrust. No shame. No pause. Just fur and snarls and a girl screaming yes yes yes like getting knotted in public was her Saturday night plan.
I felt my stomach twist. My thighs squeeze tighter.
I was an Omega.
Unmated. Untouched. Half-wrecked by Damon’s mouth.
And I just walked into a f*****g den of wolves with their c***s out and no rules.
Every cell in my body screamed danger. Every instinct I had said turn the f**k around. But I didn’t. I followed Tasha deeper into the house like an i***t. Like prey. Like a girl already halfway ruined and too curious for her own good.
And they smelled me. f**k. I could feel it.
The shift in the air when I passed
The subtle turns of heads.
The sniffing.
The growling.
Who Is This Stranger?
I wasn’t even the hottest girl here. Not by a long shot. There were girls in lingerie and pasties and sheer gowns with t**s out and legs spread and collars on.
Pants
But none of them smelled like me. None of them were Omega and wet and leaking Damon-f*****g-Thornvale’s warning between their thighs.
I didn’t belong here.
I knew it in my bones.
But I couldn’t stop walking.
Then she appeared.
Like a scene from one of those pornos I pretended not to watch. t**s.
Just… t**s.
Gigantic, gravity-defying, perfectly round titties practically punching me in the face as this platinum-haired barbie bounced toward Tasha in six-inch heels and the tightest, glossiest latex top I’d ever seen. Her lips were shiny. Her waist was snatched. And her smile was fake as f**k.
“Tasha,” she screamed, arms wide like they were best friends who hadn’t seen each other since the war.
Good to see you finally made it.”
She hugged her tight, jiggling everywhere, perfume slamming into me like a glitter-scented truck.
Strawberries. Weed. s*x.
And then her eyes landed on me.
And her smile… it f*****g slowed.
Like her brain just switched gears.
Like she sniffed something she couldn’t quite place and decided to follow the scent.
Her gaze dragged over my body so slowly it felt like she was peeling the ds off with her eyes. She tilted her head, one manicured finger wrapping around a lock of her hair.
“Who’s this?”
Her voice was syrupy.
Too sweet.
Like poison disguised as honey.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Because she wasn’t really talking to me. She was studying me. Picking me apart with those sharp, glitter-shadowed eyes like she already knew I didn’t belong here and wanted to see how fast I’d fall apart.
Tasha slung an arm around me, laughing like nothing was wrong.
“This is Lyra. My Best friend.”
Best friend.
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.