I watched her walk.
Watched her leave and I couldn’t help but mutter
“Damon you’re totally f****d”
Still Full Of Him
Still Full Of Him
**Lyra**
Okay.
Okay, walk normal.
Just walk f*****g normal, Lyra.
One foot in front of the other. That’s all it is. You’ve been doing this since, like, birth. Just… move.
Don’t limp.
Don’t clutch the wall like you just got wrecked in a closet by your best friend’s dad.
Even though that’s exactly what the f**k just happened. f**k.
I could still feel it.
His knot had finally popped free but oh my god, my p***y was still so stretched. So sore. So used. I felt ruined.
Like he’d turned my cunt into a sleeve that only fit his c**k now. Like I couldn’t close my legs properly. Like my body hadn’t realized the s*x was over.
I was leaking.
Leaking.
I could feel his c*m sliding down the inside of my thigh with every. single. step.
It was hot.
Wet.
Sticky. f*****g endless.
Like his c**k hadn’t just knotted me, but claimed my womb and decided to stay. wasn’t wearing panties. I couldn’t. I tried to put them back on after he told me to clean up and leave first, but they stuck. Literally got stuck to my slit. Because there was so much of him inside me I couldn’t even close.
And yeah, I grabbed his shirt.
So now I was barefoot, walking down the hallway in Damon f*****g Thornvale’s black button-down, no bra, t**s aching, thighs trembling, and his c*m dripping down my legs like a slutty trail marking every step I took
I looked like I’d been f****d raw.
Which I had.
Oh my god.
He knotted me.
+6 Ports >
Like actually knotted me. Like some possessive, feral, psycho Alpha Daddy -wait. That’s exactly what he is.
That’s literally what just happened. I got knotted by my best friend’s dad like some fucktoy in heat and now
I’m waddling down the hallway like I gave birth to a bear.
What the f**k is wrong with me.
Why do I feel so full?
My p***y was aching. My clit was throbbing. My entire lower body felt like it had been put in a blender set to ‘ orgasm’ and left on overnight.
And my brain?
Yeah.
Gone.
Dead.
Fried.
All I could think about was the way he’d looked at me while I was falling apart around his c**k. That lazy, cruel smirk on his face. The way he whispered “you’re mine now” while his knot locked in place and I screamed into his chest. f**k. f**k. f**k. f**k.
My thighs were literally sticking together.
I felt like a s*x crime walking.
Like if someone saw me right now, they’d call the police.
Hell, maybe they should.
Because I had just let my best friend’s dad shove me in a closet, strip me naked, make me come on his tongue, finger me until I forgot my name, then slam into my virgin p***y until I screamed so loud we almost got caught.
And then he knotted me.
He bred me.
I mean.
WHAT THE ACTUAL f**k.
Who does that? Who lives through that and just walks to their room like they’re normal?
Me, apparently.
I snuck past the living room. Didn’t even look to see if Tasha was there. If she saw me now? I’d die. No, like, actually collapse and shrivel into a horny little corpse and die.
Because how the f**k do you look your best friend in the face when you know her dad’s c*m is still dripping out of you?
You don’t.
You walk faster.
You clench every muscle in your body and hope to the Moon Goddess that no more c*m slides out before you reach your door.
And when you finally reach your room, you slam the door, lock it, press your back to it, and just-breathe.
Or try to.
I was panting.
Like I’d run a f*****g marathon.
Or survived a war.
Or got ruined in a closet and walked out still throbbing.
Which, again, I did.
I got f****d in a closet by my best friend’s dad.
And I f*****g liked it.
No.
Worse.
I f*****g loved it.
I was almost there.
Just a few more steps and I’d be in my room. I’d crawl into bed, press my face into a pillow, scream silently, maybe cry, maybe masturbate to the memory of his c**k stretching me open like I was made for it-no, definitely not. Maybe.
Shut up, brain.
I just needed to get to the door without dripping another fat glob of his c*m on the floor like some untrained b***h in heat.
Because that’s what I felt like.
A dripping, ruined, slutty little..
“b***h, where the f**k were you?”
I froze.
Literally.
Stopped breathing.
My heart punched straight through my chest and faceplanted on the floor.
No.
No no no.
That didn’t just happen.
Tell me that didn’t just..
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.