Wild Heart Mate
~Lyra~
Camilla laughed.
Not a small laugh. Not a nervous chuckle. I’m talking about a full–blown, head–thrown–back, mouth wide open, mascara–smearing, unhinged kind of laugh.
That ugly, cackling, teeth–baring sound that makes you instantly uncomfortable just listening to it. She was clutching her side like she’d just heard the best joke of her life, like someone had handed her a script for a comedy special and said, “Here, this one’s about you losing your damn mind in real time.”
I didn’t move.
Damon didn’t move.
But she just kept laughing, louder now, staggering slightly as she clutched the edge of a chair to keep herself upright. Her body was shaking, her chest heaving, her eyeliner now smudged so far down her cheeks she looked like a sad clown that had wandered into a horror movie set.
“Are you serious?” she wheezed between gasps, swiping at her face with the back of her hand. “No–like, actually. Is this a joke? A prank? Some kind of sick–ass game you are playing on me?”
She pointed between us, still laughing, still losing it, her voice rising with every word like she was spiraling into hysteria and had no intention of slowing down.
“Oh gosh–y’all are so funny,” she sneered, eyes glistening with tears that weren’t sad at all. “Really. This? This whole twisted little show you’ve been putting on? It’s hilarious.”
I stared at her, completely still, while my heart thudded against my ribs like it wanted to launch itself out of my chest and slap her across the face.
She was laughing like she hadn’t just tried to kill me.
She was laughing like this entire thing wasn’t dead serious.
And that did something to me.
Something ugly.
But she wasn’t done.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, wiping her eyes and stumbling a step forward, wobbling in her heels like a drunk girl at prom. “You’re really standing here, saying that she–this little girl–is your mate?”
“Are you f*****g serious right now?!”
She staggered forward, her heels clacking against the floor like the sound alone could make us take her seriously.
“Is it because I don’t belong to this f*****g wolf thing?” she screamed, her voice cracking in the ug Is that it?! Is it because I’m not one of you? Because I don’t shift? Because I’m human huh? Answer me Damon!”
vay. “
Damon didn’t move. Not even a blink. But I felt his hand on my hip tighten–just slightly. Enough to let me
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Wild Heart Mate
know he was keeping himself still. For me.
Camilla wasn’t done. Not even close.
“So what, you just decided you needed someone more like you?” she barked, her voice rising higher, laced
with venom.
“You wanted a like–person–wolf–thing to match your own freak–show genes? Is that it? So you picked your daughter’s age mate?! Are you f*****g insane?! You chose a child, Damon!”
She stepped closer.
“You must be sick, Damon!” she shrieked. “f*****g sick! You want to talk about the Moon Goddess and fated
mates and all that werewolf destiny bullshit? Fine. Say whatever you want. But that girl’s eighteen! And you’re
like old enough to birth her!
Her voice broke. For the first time, her hands were shaking for real.
“She’s just a kid!”
Her eyes found mine again, and I saw the shift. From rage to disgust. From heartbreak to hatred.
“And don’t you f*****g dare tell me you’ve been f*****g her,” she hissed, her voice dropping into something deadly. “Don’t you dare look me in the face and tell me you’ve been inside her.
I didn’t breathe.
Damon didn’t flinch.
And for one full second, the entire room went silent. Then.
Yes.
That one word. That one syllable. That filthy, delicious, scorching admission that left Damon’s mouth like a loaded weapon and detonated in the center of the room-
“Yes. I’ve been f*****g her.”
I swear the air changed.
It didn’t just shift. It snapped. Like the molecules around us heard him and combusted with lust and horror all
at once. Camilla stopped breathing. Her mouth fell open like someone had just slapped her across the face with a brick of truth she wasn’t prepared to carry. And me?
My entire body reacted.
I felt it everywhere. The heat. The ache. The throb that started between my legs and spread like wildfire. My heart was pounding so fast I could barely stay upright. My breath hitched. My spine arched slightly without my permission. And my thighs–gods, my thighs squeezed together as if I could hide the way my p***y just clenched around nothing like it was already missing him.
I shouldn’t have gotten wet from that.
I shouldn’t have liked it.
But I did.
I liked the way he said it.
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Wild Heart Mate
So calm.
So sure.
So f*****g dirty.
And then he kept going.
“She’s not just my mate,” Damon said, his voice dropping into that place that always made me weak. “She’s my obsession. My addiction. My sweet little Omega that I ruin every single night.”
Oh f**k.
I swallowed hard, and it felt like my whole throat tightened around a moan I wasn’t ready to let out. My eyes widened. My cheeks burned. My n*****s hardened against my bra like they’d been called to attention by the pure, raw filth coming out of his mouth.
He said it like he was proud. Like claiming me in front of the woman who used to sleep in his bed was just
another form of foreplay.
“I’ve had her whimpering under me,” he continued, and my breath stuttered because i remembered. I remembered the way his hands pinned me down. The way his voice dipped right before he slammed into me. The way he groaned against my neck while I begged him to keep going.
“Soaked and spread. Begging for more. I’ve had her mouth on my c**k, her hands on my chest, her thighs trembling while I f**k her so hard she forgets her name.”
Oh my f*****g god.
I could feel it now. Not just mentally. Not just emotionally. Physically. The way my panties clung to me. The way the heat curled low in my belly and settled between my thighs like a secret. The way I started to breathe through my mouth because everything inside me was unraveling one word at a time.
And he wasn’t done.
“She’s not some girl picked,” Damon growled, his grip on my waist tightening, his voice sending shivers down my spine. “She was made for me. Every inch of her. Every sound she makes. Every drop of slick that drips out of her while I’m still inside. She was built to take me. To belong to me.”
Camilla made a choking sound, but I wasn’t even looking at her anymore.
I was staring up at him.
Dazed.
Buzzing.
Completely wrecked by the fact that he was saying all of this with his arm around me, his scent on my skin, his voice claiming me so brutally that it made my entire body throb like I’d just been thrown back into his bed
and told to stay.
And then came the final blow.
“I don’t just f**k her,” Damon said, eyes gleaming, his voice coiling around the words like he loved every
syllable. “I breed her. Knot her, Mark her. Fill her so deep she leaks for hours. And when I’m done? I start all over again.”
My knees actually gave out.
Wild Heart Mate
I’m not even joking.
If he hadn’t been holding me, I would’ve melted into the floor. I would’ve slipped in my own damn slick and
collapsed right there in front of Camilla. My pulse was pounding between my legs. My chest was heaving. My brain had completely shut down.
I was ruined.
Just from his words.
Just from the truth.
“She’s mine,” he finished, staring straight through Camilla like she was invisible. “And she loves every f*****g second of it.”
Oh. My. f*****g. God.
You’d think I’d be used to him by now. To his voice. To the things he says. To the way he can ruin me with a single sentence. But I wasn’t. Not even close. Every time Damon opened his mouth, it was like my brain turned into melted wax and my body forgot how to function. And this time–this time he wasn’t just talking.
He was declaring war.
On her.
On every ounce of control I thought I had left.
On the air in my lungs.
“She moans like a f*****g angel,” he went on, his hand sliding down from my waist, fingers pressing right into the curve of my hip like he was remembering exactly how he holds me when I’m writhing beneath him. “She cries when she comes. Not because she’s in pain–but because it’s too good. Because I f**k her until she breaks.”
I gasped.
Not out loud.
Not dramatically.
Just a tiny little inhale that hitched in my throat like I was choking on my own arousal. I felt hot all over. Too hot. Like my skin didn’t fit right. Like his words were peeling every layer of me off until I was raw and needy and shameless.
“I don’t use her,” Damon continued, his voice darker now, a cruel kind of pride curling around every word like smoke. “I worship her. With my mouth. My tongue. My c**k. Every part of me knows her. Every inch of her body is trained to respond to me.”
He leaned down slightly, his mouth brushing against my temple, and I swear my whole damn body throbbed from just that.
“She screams when I knot her,” he whispered, like it was a f*****g lullaby, “and then she begs for more. She says ‘please, Daddy, don’t stop. And I don’t. I never stop. Not until I’ve emptied myself so deep de her she’s dripping with me for hours.”
Camilla made a sound.
A strangled, furious, broken little thing that would’ve been pathetic if I hadn’t been so busy trying not to
< Wild Heart Mate
f*****g c*m just from listening to him talk.
FORTE 2
“You know what the best part is?” Damon asked, still not even looking at her. He was staring at me now. His eyes locked on mine like he wanted to undress me with his gaze and bend me over something right f*****g now. “It’s not just her body. It’s her mind. The way she thinks. The way she rambles. The way she trembles
when she wants me and tries to talk herself out of it.”
Oh f**k.
Oh f**k.
“She’s 18,” he growled, pressing his fingers into my hip a little harder, “and she talks so f*****g much. But when I f**k her? She can’t speak. She forgets how. Her voice breaks. Her thoughts scatter. All that smart
mouth turns into breathy little whimpers and she just–melts.”
My nails dug into his chest. I couldn’t even stop it.
He smiled.
Smiled.
Like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
“She’s mine,” he repeated, dragging the words out now, slow and lethal and dripping with filth. “She’s my Luna. My kitten. My c*m–hungry little mate. And no one–no one–will ever touch her again. Not in this lifetime. Not in any f*****g universe.”
Camilla looked like she was going to throw up.
But I-
I was soaked.
Trembling.
Addicted.
Absolutely f*****g gone.
And Damon?
He hadn’t even gotten started yet.
To be f*****g continued.
Royalty Writes
”
#Vote# Thank you all for your amazing support
Enjoy
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