Breed Me, Daddy Alpha-Chapter 279

Lyra

Morning came so fast. One second it was dark and quiet and I was curled up under Damon’s blanket trying to convince myself last night was just a dream, and the next thing I knew, reality hit me in the face like a truck going a hundred miles per hour.

Reality with a capital R. Reality with Damon’s entire family staring me down like I was the scandal of the century.

Because yes, somehow I ended up at the big dining table with all of them. His mother. His cousins. His aunt. His grandmother. And his twin brother and guess what? This dude was shirtless.

I have no idea what sin I committed in a past life to deserve this level of humiliation, but the universe was clearly not on my side.

And let me tell you, that twin was looking at me like he wanted to fuck me.

Oh my God.

I could feel his eyes on me the entire time, slow and heavy like a hand sliding down my spine, and it was doing things to my brain that were completely inappropriate for breakfast.

I mean, who just shows up shirtless at the table when a girl is already drowning in shame because she screamed the house down last night? And why did he have to look exactly like Damon but with this dangerous smirk like he already knew what I sounded like moaning his brother’s name?

Lord have mercy, I was sweating.

Meanwhile, Damon was sitting right next to me like nothing was wrong. Like the whole family didn’t know. Like his grandmother wasn’t sipping her tea with this polite little smile that said she had heard every single noise I made last night and was just too classy to mention it out loud.

His mother, on the other hand, kept giving me this look.

You know the look.

The so that’s the girl who had my son making noises like a sinner in the middle of the night look.

I wanted to crawl under the table and die.

Because how was I supposed to sit there buttering toast while the ghost of my own orgasm was haunting the entire room?

How was I supposed to look any of these people in the eyes when I had moaned so loud last night someone actually banged on the door begging us to shut up? I could still hear it.

For Christ’s sake, Damon! Can’t you let us sleep? I could still feel Damon’s mouth between my thighs while they said it because he didn’t even stop. He didn’t even pause.

And now his twin was staring at me like I was dessert.

I kept telling myself not to look at him, not to notice the way his hair was messy like he had just rolled out of bed, not to notice the tattoos across his chest, not to notice the way his mouth curved like he was two seconds away from saying something that would ruin me completely.

And then he smirked.

Oh no.

He smirked right at me over his coffee like he knew exactly what I looked like last night with my legs spread and my voice breaking and Damon holding me down so I couldn’t squirm away from his tongue.

I choked on my orange juice.

Literally choked.

Coughed so hard Damon had to pat my back while his mother raised one eyebrow like she was reevaluating every life choice that had brought her to this breakfast table.

And then the twin finally spoke.

"So," he said slowly, eyes raking over me from head to toe in a way that made me cross my legs under the table even though it was already too late because this entire family knew everything, "you’re the one who had my brother making noises last night."

No. Nope.

Somebody kill me. Somebody bury me right now.

Because the way the whole table went silent again? The way Damon froze next to me like he was calculating how many ways he could murder his own twin without traumatizing his grandmother? The way my face instantly turned the color of hellfire while I gripped my glass of orange juice like it was my only anchor to planet Earth?

I hated him.

I hated that twin with every cell in my body because he leaned forward, smirk deepening, eyes locked on my face like he was searching for every ounce of embarrassment he could wring out of me before Damon snapped and strangled him in front of everyone.

"What did you call him?" he asked casually, like this was a completely normal breakfast conversation. "Daddy, right? Yeah, we all heard it."

I almost choked to death right there.

I slapped both hands over my face because my brain couldn’t handle it. I was eighteen. I was literally just eighteen. I wasn’t built for this level of public humiliation before my second cup of coffee.

"Oh my God," I mumbled into my palms, rocking slightly like I was comforting my own soul. "Oh my actual God, I’m going to die. I’m not even going to make it to lunch. I will spontaneously combust right here at this table."

And that devil in human form wasn’t done.

"You were loud, sweetheart," he added, voice low and teasing like he wanted to make sure the entire house burned down with me. "Could hear you all the way across the hall. Begging him to suck your little..."

"Shut the fuck up Daren!"

Oh boy.