I wanted to grab it. I wanted to yank that dress up over her hips, slap my palm across both cheeks until she yelped, then spread them apart and bury my c**k between them.
I could already see it. Her on all fours. Whimpering into the mattress. My c**k sliding between her ass cheeks as I pushed the tip into that tight little hole and made her take it inch by inch until she was sobbing.
Her thighs were thick and soft. Not the kind of thighs that closed easily. No, these were the kind you had to pry apart.
The kind that squeeze around your waist and lock behind your back when she’s shaking from her second orgasm and doesn’t want you to pull out.
I imagined the feel of them on my shoulders. I imagined holding them open while I licked her p***y until she soaked my chin and begged for my c**k inside her.
And then there was her scent.
She was near her first real heat. I knew it before she did. My Alpha instincts locked on to her like a predator. That scent was a drug. Pure f*****g chemical lust.
My body reacted to it before I could think. My c**k thickened. My hands itched. My wolf stirred inside me and whispered things no man should think about his daughter’s best friend.
Things like bending her over the dining table and f*****g her in front of the windows. Things like marking her. Breeding her. Owning her.
She smiled at me.
And I nearly lost it.
Because she had no idea. No idea what she looked like. No idea what that smile did to me. No idea that I was two seconds from dragging her into the nearest room and showing her what it meant to moan Daddy while an Alpha split her open and knotted her until she was crying into the sheets.
She had no idea what that smile did to me. She had no clue that the moment her eyes met mine, I felt something snap inside my chest – something I had been burying for years.
That soft, innocent grin she gave me as she stepped barefoot onto my yacht made my c**k throb with the kind of hunger I hadn’t felt since the first time I tasted p***y.
She didn’t know what she looked like walking toward me in that tight little dress, no bra beneath it, the outline of her hard n*****s pressing against the thin fabric like they were begging to be sucked.
She didn’t know that her scent was starting to change. That her body was announcing itself as ready. That her heat was near. She didn’t know that every step she took was pushing me closer to the edge of something irreversible.
She didn’t know that I was fighting for control and losing.
I kept my hands at my sides, fists clenched so tight the bones in my knuckles cracked under the pressure.
I focused on the horizon, on the breeze, on anything but the way her t**s bounced slightly with every step.
And f**k me, I wanted them in my mouth. I wanted to lay her down, pull that dress up to her waist, and tease those n*****s until she whimpered and begged me to keep going.
I wanted to slide my hand under her dress and feel how warm and soft her thighs were. I wanted to part them slowly, push one over my shoulder, and feel that heat pulsing between her legs before I even touched her.
I would use my finger to touch her tight little p***y and c**t. I wouldn’t be gentle. I wouldn’t ask for permission. I’d tease her just enough to make her whimper, then rub tight circles over that swollen little nub until she trembled and her hips lifted off the cushion trying to chase my hand.
I’d push one finger inside, feel how tight she was, how untouched, how slick and desperate her little Omega cunt had become just from the scent of me. I’d slide in a second finger, then a third, stretch her out until she moaned and clenched down and came all over my hand while I whispered, “That’s it, kitten. Give it to Daddy.”
Oh f**k.
I was getting hard again. Not just hard. I was throbbing. My c**k was so stiff it pressed angrily against the fabric of my slacks, and I had to subtly shift my stance to keep from making it obvious.
Every breath I took filled my lungs with her scent, and every cell in my body lit up with hunger. I shouldn’t be thinking of this.
I shouldn’t be imagining what her p***y tastes like. I shouldn’t be standing here fantasizing about her on all fours, begging for my c**k, her ass arched high in the air while I slide into her tight little cunt and f**k her until she forgets her own name.
This was wrong.
She is Bella’s best friend. She had just turned eighteen. She wasn’t mine. But my c**k didn’t care. My instincts didn’t care.
My wolf didn’t care. I was an Alpha, and she was an unclaimed Omega in the early stages of her heat, standing on my yacht like she belonged here. Like she belonged to me.
Every muscle in my body was tense, coiled like a spring, ready to pounce the second she gave me even the smallest sign that she wanted it too. And the worst part? I wasn’t even sure I needed a sign. The way her body moved. The way her thighs peeked through the slit in her dress.
The way she smiled up at me like she still thought I was harmless – it all made me want to grab her by the throat and f**k the innocence out of her until she cried my name.
I shut my eyes for half a second and forced myself to breathe. I told myself to get a grip. I told myself to be strong. But every time I looked at her, that strength cracked a little more.
I didn’t know how long I could hold out. I didn’t know how many days I could keep pretending I didn’t want to shove her against the glass railing, yank her panties down, and slide my c**k between those slick, untouched folds while she begged me not to stop.
She had no idea.
She had no idea how close she was to being mine.
If she ever said my name in the wrong tone, if she ever looked at me with even a flicker of need – it would be over. Because I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’d ruin her. I’d claim her. I’d knot her so deep and so hard she’d never be able to f**k anyone else without crying for Daddy to come fix it.
She had no idea that I was already imagining it.
And I had no intention of stopping.
I didn’t even realize how badly I was sweating until I felt a drop slide down my temple and into the corner of my mouth.
My jaw was still clenched, and I hadn’t moved. Not really. I hadn’t taken a full breath in minutes. All I could do was stand there, rooted to the deck like some f*****g beast caught in a trance, trying not to imagine what her cunt would taste like if I dropped to my knees and lifted that dress.
Then I heard the voices.
“Connor?”
Oh f**k.
**Conner**
“Connor?”
It was Nathan’s voice. My oldest friend. I invited him over for us to talk business together.
He had come down from the upper deck at some point without me noticing, and now he stood a few feet away with a glass of something amber in one hand and his wife tucked into his side.
Her eyes were narrowed with concern, head tilted like she was studying me. Nathan was frowning, brows drawn low as he stepped closer.
“Jesus, man. You alright? You’re sweating like hell.”
I blinked, dragging my gaze away from Lily with all the force of a man trying to rip himself free from a f*****g trance. I looked at Nathan, then quickly swiped a hand over the back of my neck. My shirt was sticking to my back. My palms were damp. My throat was bone dry. It wasn’t the sun. It wasn’t the heat. It was her.
“I’m fine,” I said, and my voice came out low, gravelly, so obviously not fine it made Nathan raise an eyebrow.
“You don’t look fine,” his wife, Delilah, said gently. She reached forward and placed a cool hand on my forearm, and I almost flinched from the contact. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or… something worse.”
I forced a smile. Or maybe I didn’t. I wasn’t even sure what my face was doing anymore. Everything felt tight, tense, hot. I was still hard. Still painfully, desperately hard.
The outline of my c**k was digging into the zipper of my pants and I knew if I didn’t turn around and walk away, it would get worse. I glanced over my shoulder and of course she was still there.
Lily.
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