Dirty Little Secrets
~Damon~
I came down the stairs like a man possessed.
The phone was pressed to my ear. My voice already loud, sharp and f*****g angry, my blood still hot from last night. I hadn’t slept. I’d barely f*****g breathed.
“Listen to me and listen well,” I growled into the line, low and pissed. “If the council room isn’t secured before
I get there, I’m going to start cutting off fingers and feeding them to the dogs. One for every minute I wait. Do
you understand me, Micah?”
There was a pause.
“Y–yes Alpha…”
“Don’t f*****g stutter.”
I stepped into the hallway, jaw tight, voice rising.
“You’ve had three goddamn days to sweep the perimeter. And you’re telling me now…now…that two of your
men didn’t report back? Are you out of your f*****g mind?”
“They… They went radio silent at the East wall. We think…”
“Don’t tell me what you think. You’re not paid to think. You’re paid to obey. If there’s a breach, I want it sealed.
If there are rogues, I want them dead. And if one f*****g councilman smells fear on my land today, I will personally slit your throat and let your replacement mop your blood off the stones.”
Silence.
I kept walking.
“Call Matteo. Call Roman. Call everyone and reinforce the North ridge now. This is not a request. This is not a goddamn discussion. I want the training grounds locked, the Omega dens sealed, and every guard in their full shift gear before the next hour. If I see one more half–assed patrol I’ll hang them by their ankles outside the gate and let the crows eat them alive.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
“Get it done.”
I ended the call.
The second my thumb slid across the screen and the hallway fell quiet.
I saw her.
And my body stopped existing.
Because Lyra… was in the kitchen.
And my c**k instantly hardened with such violent speed it hurt.
She was alone.
Facing the cabinets.
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Stretching on tiptoe to reach the top shelf.
And I swear to every dark f*****g god that ever lived..she wasn’t wearing a f*****g thing underneath that
shirt.
She had her earbuds in. Oblivious. Music loud enough to bleed through. Head bobbing softly like she was lost in her own little world. Just… humming. Innocent.
But her body?
It was sin incarnate.
She wore my shirt. How did she Gertrude my shirt? Maybe Tasha gave it to her.
It was one of the old white ones.
Paper thin.
Loose in the arms.
Clinging tight at the waist from her damp skin.
And completely see–through.
I could see the curve of her tits..the soft bounce of them as she moved. The dark rose of her n*****s pressing against the cotton like they were begging for attention. Her areolas were large, swollen, puckered like she’d been rubbing them in the shower.
And that shirt?
It didn’t even cover her ass.
As she stood on her toes, the hem rose higher.
Higher.
And then.
Holy. f*****g. Hell.
Her ass.
Her bare ass.
No panties.
Not even a scrap of fabric.
Just soft, full cheeks, flushed faint pink like she’d just been spanked. Her skin shimmered in the morning light..slick with lotion or leftover steam, I didn’t care. It made her thighs glow. Made her legs look like they’d been dipped in cream and kissed by the moon.
And I could see her cunt.
Her little pink p***y peeking between her legs.
Shaved bare. So f*****g clean. So tight.
The lips were parted from the stretch.
And they were wet.
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Glistening wet.
Like she was already soaked.
Already aching.
Already dripping just from being in my house.
I could see the tight slit, barely wide enough for a finger, pulsing slightly with every breath she took. Her
thighs were slick. The soft crease where her cheeks met her thighs shimmered like honey.
Her scent hit me next.
Hot.
Fresh.
Ripe.
Her natural slick curled through the air like smoke and sin, thick with arousal, completely unaware of how
f*****g dangerous it was for me to smell her like that this early.
My c**k pressed so hard against my pants I thought the fabric might rip. It was long. Heavy. Angry. Precum leaking from the tip like spit, soaking into my waistband in hot, sticky patches.
She made a soft sound.
A sigh.
Her body shifted.
The shirt lifted higher.
And that was when I saw it.
A single drop of slick running down her inner thigh,
Slow.
Shiny.
It glided down the smooth skin like a whisper, catching the light before slipping over her knee and falling to
the floor.
And she didn’t even know.
Didn’t f*****g know I was behind her.
Watching.
Breathing like a goddamn monster.
Fighting every part of me that screamed to move.
To grab her.
To shove her face–first into the counter, yank that shirt over her head, and ram my c**k into her virgin cunt
until she bled.
Her arms stretched higher.
She whimpered softly when she couldn’t reach.
Duty Little Secrets
Glistening wet.
Like she was already soaked.
Already aching.
Already dripping just from being in my house.
I could see the tight slit, barely wide enough for a finger, pulsing slightly with every breath she took. Her thighs were slick. The soft crease where her cheeks met her thighs shimmered like honey.
Her scent hit me next.
Hot.
Fresh.
Ripe.
Her natural slick curled through the air like smoke and sin, thick with arousal, completely unaware of how ******g dangerous it was for me to smell her like that this early.
My c**k pressed so hard against my pants I thought the fabric might rip. It was long. Heavy Angry. Precum leaking from the tip like spit, soaking into my waistband in hot, sticky patches.
She made a soft sound.
A sigh.
Her body shifted.
The shirt lifted higher.
And that was when I saw it.
A single drop of slick running down her inner thigh.
Slow.
Shiny.
It glided down the smooth skin like a whisper, catching the light before slipping over her knee and falling to
the floor.
And she didn’t even know.
Didn’t f*****g know I was behind her.
Watching.
Breathing like a goddamn monster.
Fighting every part of me that screamed to move.
To grab her.
To shove her face–first into the counter, yank that shirt over her head, and ram my c**k in
until she bled.
Her arms stretched higher.
She whimpered softly when she couldn’t reach.
er virgin cunt
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Dirty Little Secrets
And her ass wiggled.
That perfect little bounce nearly killed me.
હાલ મા વિનાના
Her thighs spread just enough to give me a full view of her p***y lips. tight, blushed, wet..and f**k, the small pucker of her hole clenched like it felt me staring.
I took a step forward.
One step.
I licked my lips.
I reached for her.
“Good morning, Dad.”
My body went cold.
Still.
Dead.
I turned my head slowly, blood still roaring in my ears, c**k still hard enough to cut granite.
She was on the stairs. My daughter. Rubbing her eyes, pink robe tied loosely at her waist.
She didn’t know.
She didn’t see what I was about to do.
Didn’t see the way my hand was almost outstretched.
Didn’t hear the way my breath caught.
Didn’t feel the way the air was vibrating with lust.
I cleared my throat, voice strained. “Morning.”
She passed by me without a second glance.
Lyra turned around right after.
She saw me.
Smiled.
One earbud slid out.
“Morning, Mr. Thornvale,” she said sweetly.
She still had no idea.
No f*****g idea what her body just did to me.
No idea that I was standing there with twenty inches of thick, veined c**k twitching in my pants, ready to f**k her until she couldn’t walk.
And now?
Now I had to go sit in a council meeting with the taste of her slick still stuck in my nose. And the image of her p***y dripping down her thighs carved into my brain like a brand.
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I was going to f**k her.
And when I did?
I was going to make her cry.
My c**k throbbed against my waistband.
I clenched my fists.
herm
And then Tasha opened her mouth and made it worse.
“So. Daddy. I have something to tell you” she said. “Lyra and I are going to a party tonight.”
Lyra blinked.
Her lips parted.
Her hand tightened around the mug.
She hadn’t known.
She wasn’t going to a party.
Tasha blindsided her.
And I could feel the tension dripping down Lyra’s thighs like the wet trail I saw earlier.
I snapped my gaze to my daughter.
“No.”
“Daddy…
“No.”
“Please,” she whined, moving closer. “Come on. It’s just a bonfire. Pack land. We’ll be surrounded by people you know. Nothing bad is going to happen. We just want to have a little fun.”
“No.”
“You trust me, don’t you?”
I stepped forward, towering over her now. “No s*x. No drugs. No f*****g threesomes, Tasha. I mean it.”
She smirked.
“Can’t promise that, Dad.”
My jaw locked.
I turned my head.
And f**k me.
Lyra.
Those n*****S.
Hardened.
Her breath hitched the moment I looked at her. Her thighs pressed together. Her lips trembled like she wanted to speak but knew better. That shirt was barely hanging on her shoulders now, collar stretched from wear.
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The fabric dipped low between her t**s, showing the tight valley of soft, warm cleavage. There was a droplet. of water on her chest, sliding down between her breasts like it had no idea how badly I wanted to lick it off.
My eyes dragged over her slowly.
Down her thighs.
Her legs were long. Smooth. Thigh gap soft and soaked.
My mouth watered.
My c**k pulsed.
I looked back at Tasha.
“What do you have in mind for this party?” I asked, trying to force calm into my voice.
“Oh, don’t worry Daddy,” she said, grabbing a bottle of water and spinning the cap off. “When you see us, you’ll know. We’re not your little girls anymore.”
f**k.
My c**k pushed so hard against my zipper I had to shift my stance.
That was when my phone rang.
I checked the screen.
Council.
s**t. I was going to be late.
I growled under my breath and stepped forward, brushing past both of them. I leaned down, kissed Tasha’s
forehead.
“When I’m back,” I muttered. “I want to see what you’re wearing before you leave. No surprises.”
She smiled. “Can’t wait, Daddy.”
I stormed to the door, heart pounding, c**k still full, brain burning..
I stepped outside. The sun slapped my face. My boots hit the stone steps. I was halfway to the car when…
“f**k,” I hissed. “The goddamn keys.”
I spun, already furious.
The door opened.
And there she was.
Lyra.
Running toward me.
Barefoot.
That shirt clinging to her t**s like it was painted on.
And those f*****g breasts.
Bouncing.
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Up.
Dirty Little Secrets
Down.
Up.
Down.
With every step, they jiggled violently. Her n*****s stabbed the shirt like they were begging to be sucked. Her hair was pulled up in a loose bun, strands falling over her face. She squinted in the sunlight, lips parted, ts
f*****g bouncing like they were trying to hypnotize me.
My c**k pulsed.
Veins tight.
Balls aching.
She reached me and held out the keys.
“Mr. Thornvale,” she said, breathless, cheeks pink, lips glossy. “You forgot your keys, sir.”
Sir.
I took the keys from her hand. Our fingers touched. She didn’t flinch.
But then.
She stepped closer.
Voice low.
Soft.
“Mr. Thornvale?” I whispered again, tilting my head. “Really?”
Her lashes fluttered.
Her mouth curved.
“That’s not what you called me last night.”
My body went rigid as I stepped further to her.
She leaned in slightly.
“You begged me to f**k your little girl,” i whispered, lips parted just enough for her breath to hit my neck. “And now you want to pretend it didn’t happen?”
She stepped back.
Bit her lip.
Lowered her eyes.
“You said to stay away,” she said quietly. “So that’s what I’m doing, sir.”
Sir.
Again.
My c**k jumped.
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Dirty Little Secrets
She looked up. Her eyes sparkled with something dark. Dangerous.
“I’d rather not call you Damon anymore,” she said, voice syrup–slow. “If that’s okay with you…. sir.”
She handed me the keys.
Then she turned.
And that was the last f*****g mistake she made.
Because the second her bare thighs shifted, the second her ass bounced under that thin white shirt, the second I saw her slick still glistening between those legs…
I snapped.
“You don’t f*****g walk away from me.”
“Come back here!”
Royalty Writes
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