Caught is
~Damon~
“I should’ve bent you over the table that first night,” I snarled against her ear, hips slamming into her from behind, one hand fisted in her hair, the other bruising her hip.
“Should’ve stuffed this tight little cunt full of Daddy’s c**k while Tasha was upstairs painting her f*****g
nails.”
Lyra sobbed into the pillow.
Not from pain.
From the way her body was losing control again, the way she was shaking like a livewire, her p***y practically sucking me in deeper like it was starved. Like this wasn’t the first time I f****d her like a monster.
Like it wouldn’t be the last.
“Why aren’t you stopping, Damon?” she whimpered, fingers clawing at the bedsheets like they owed her something. Her back arched into me, ass bouncing with every thrust, voice cracking. “Why..oh fuck..why won’t you stop..your daughter’s outside..my best friend is outside..”
I should’ve stopped when she said it.
When her voice cracked beneath me, stuffed full of c**k and shame, and she sobbed into the sheets.
“Your daughter’s behind that door… my best friend is behind the door…”
That should’ve been my f*****g line.
My moment of restraint.
My sanity check.
But it wasn’t.
It was the trigger.
The thing that snapped the last thread of control inside me.
Because hearing her say that..my daughter’s best friend..while her p***y was choking my c**k, while her body was dripping with my c*m, while her ass was bouncing off my hips with every thrust.
It made me lose my f*****g mind.
“You think I care about that?” I hissed, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back so I could see
her face. Ruined. Drenched. Beautiful.
“You think I give a single f**k that you used to sit on the couch with her? That you braided each other’s hair and painted your f*****g nails?”
My c**k slammed in deeper.
She screamed.
“I don’t f*****g care.”
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“I should,” I growled, slamming forward again so hard the bed jerked beneath us, sheets soaked with sweat and slick and blood and everything I’d done to her body. “But I don’t. Because the only thing I see right now is a tight little cunt that was made for me.”
“But..I am her best friend..
“Okay? And so f*****g what,” I spat. “Now you’re mine.”
She choked on her moan.
I bent over her back, my chest slick against her spine, teeth dragging across her shoulder as my hand snaked down to grab her throat, tilting her face so I could whisper filth straight into her ear.
“I always wanted you, Lyra. Always. From the moment you walked into my house wearing that little school skirt like you didn’t know what the f**k you were doing to me.”
She whimpered, hands fisting the sheets like she could anchor herself there.
“You’re legal now,” I snarled. “And that means I can f**k you any goddamn way I want.”
Slap.
I spanked her. Hard. Right on the curve of her ass.
She jolted. Screamed.
And her p***y f*****g clenched around me like it agreed.
“You like that?” I hissed. “You like Daddy treating you like a f**k toy while your best friend is outside the door?
“Y–yes,” she sobbed. “Oh god, Damon–yes–I can’t stop–I don’t want to stop..”
“You’re not going to,” I growled. “Because I’m not done with you.”
“Daddy!” Tasha’s voice rang through the hallway, closer now. “Are you in there?!”
“Damon–f**k–she’s going to hear us–please-“Lyra whimpered, face red, sweat dripping from her temples as her legs started to give out beneath her.
I didn’t stop.
I f****d her harder.
Held her down with both hands on her hips now, pounding into her like my c**k was trying to carve its shape into her spine.
My knot had begun to swell–thick and brutal–pushing at the mouth of her p***y like it was ready to lock us together again.
“You’re going to take it,” I groaned. “Every inch. Every f*****g throb. Every ounce of c*m I pump into this greedy little hole.”
She sobbed into the pillow. “I’m already so full–Daddy–I can feel it–it’s leaking out–it’s too much-”
“You’ll f*****g take it.”
My voice wasn’t human anymore.
It was growled.
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Dragged from the pit of my stomach.
A snarl soaked in obsession.
I didn’t care that she was crying.
Didn’t care that she was trembling.
Didn’t care that her cunt was red, raw, soaked in every last drop of c*m I’d already spilled inside her.
She was still mine.
And she was still going to take more.
43 Points >
“You think this p***y gets to say no to me?” I hissed, driving forward again until my c**k ground against the
deepest part of her, the knot pressing harder against her opening. “You think this wrecked little hole gets to decide when it’s done being ruined?”
She whimpered into the sheets, trying to speak, but her voice broke into a moan the second I reached up and
grabbed her jaw, forcing her head back, making her look at me over her shoulder.
Tears on her cheeks.
Drool down her chin.
Eyes glassy.
So f*****g ruined.
So f*****g perfect.
“Look at you,” I growled. “f****d stupid. Stuffed full. Tongue hanging out like a b***h in heat.”
She moaned louder. “D–Daddy..please..”
“Don’t you f*****g beg,” I snarled, leaning in until my lips grazed her ear, breath hot, body heavy against her back. “You don’t beg. You submit. There’s a difference.”
My hand slid down. Grabbed her throat. Not gentle.
“I don’t want your pretty little whimpers. I want your obedience.”
Her p***y clenched.
So f*****g tight.
And I felt it.
That twitch.
That flutter.
That silent confession her cunt made without permission.
“You want Daddy to stop?” I whispered. “Or do you want me to ruin you so hard that every time you walk into your best friend’s room, you’ll still feel me dripping down your thighs?”
She sobbed.
Then nodded.
Desperate. Shaking. Eyes wild.
III
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“I want it,” she choked. “I want your knot–I want your c*m–I want you to break me. Please, Daddy–please–1
want to be f****d till I forget my own name..”
I groaned, deep and sharp, hips jerking forward with violent force.
Her body snapped beneath me, toes curling, back arching, mouth wide as her p***y pulsed again–milking my c**k, swallowing the pressure of the knot trying to wedge into her.
“You feel that?” I growled, slamming forward. “That’s me f*****g branding you from the inside out.”
Slap.
I spanked her clit.
She screamed.
“You’re gonna take my knot,” I hissed. “Like a good little flesh–sleeve. Like the dripping, broken, used–up girl I’ve turned you into. You’re not even Lyra anymore. You’re just my fuckhole now.”
Her eyes rolled back.
“Just a hot, twitching cunt for me to plug and fill and ruin whenever the f**k I feel like it.”
Pop.
The knot shoved in.
She screamed.
Not like a girl.
Not even like a human.
Like a thing.
A broken, c**k–drunk, moaning thing with no thoughts left except how to keep from passing out.
And I didn’t stop.
Didn’t stop talking.
“You feel that stretch?” I whispered against her neck, tongue licking the sweat there like I owned her skin.” That’s your womb screaming. That’s your insides begging me to let go.”
And I did.
I came.
Like a f*****g beast.
My c**k throbbed, pulsed, exploded inside her–wave after wave of thick, burning–hot c*m crashing into her like a flood meant to drown every last memory of who she was before I took her.
And she broke.
”
“Oh my god..Damon..fuck..Daddy..” she sobbed, voice cracking as the pressure made her convulse again, her thighs shaking uncontrollably, p***y spasming like it was trying to keep up with how much I was pumping
into her.
I held her by the throat.
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Caught
Bent over her back.
Still groaning.
+ Points>
“You’re going to f*****g leak for days,” I whispered. “You’ll be walking around with my load dripping out of you in front of everyone. And they won’t even know. But you will. Every step you take, you’ll feel my seed soaking your panties.”
I licked her ear.
“And you’ll think of this moment. When you were still tied to your best friend’s dad and you f*****g loved it.”
She was whimpering now.
Shaking.
Gone.
And then.
Click.
The door began to turn.
“Oh f**k,” Lyra gasped, eyes snapping open, body stiff in panic. “Damon..Damon..she’s coming in. I still have your f*****g knot inside me..”
I moved.
Snatched her up.
Still locked.
Still dripping.
Still buried so deep in her p***y that the pressure made us both moan when I lifted her.
We crashed into the closet.
I slammed the door.
Darkness swallowed us whole.
My hand clamped over her mouth.
Her p***y twitched around my knot again.
And I smiled in the dark.
Because the bedroom door creaked open.
And my daughter walked in.
~~
BOOM.
The door burst open like it had been kicked in, the sound ricocheting through the walls, shaking the closet
door behind me
Lyra gasped in my arms, nails digging into my shoulders, her whole body trembling, still f*****g locked to my c**k. Her p***y twitched, still holding the knot, my c*m leaking down the inside of her thighs like cream from
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a broken pastry.
We didn’t move.
Couldn’t.
I was still inside her.
Still throbbing.
Still dripping.
Still so f*****g deep I could feel the echo of her pulse in my c**k.
Outside the closet, her voice rang out..
“WHAT THE f**k?!”
Tasha.
Her sneakers slapped the wooden floor as she stormed into the room, and then.
Silence.
Breathing.
A long, sick, awful pause.
“Oh my god.”
The panic cracked through her voice like lightning.
“Wh–what is..what is this?”
She moved.
Running toward the bed.
And then I heard it.
The sound of her gasp.
The shuffle of sheets.
* Points
“Why is there blood?” she whispered..no, choked..like the sight had yanked the breath out of her lungs. “Why
is the bed like this..oh my god–what the fuck…Daddy?!”
Lyra whimpered.
Her whole body jerked.
And I could fee! her panic seeping through her sweat–slicked skin.
“Damon…“she breathed. “She’s going to see. She’s going to see us..”
I held her tighter.
Pressed her trembling body into my chest.
My c**k still locked inside her.
Her cunt still stretching, gripping, soaking my knot in a slow, sinful pulse.
I could smell her.
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ཨ་་་ས་་་ན་
Her arousal.
My c*m.
The blood.
The sweat.
Tasha’s voice snapped again..it was louder now.
“Daddy! Where are you?! Are you okay?! Are you hurt?! Whose blood is this?!”
“I’m gonna call you now,” she said..
And just like that, her footsteps began to fade.
One after another.
Away from the room.
Away from the blood–soaked bed.
Away from the closet she was inches from opening.
I didn’t even blink.
Just listened.
To the click of her phone.
The slam of the front door.
f**k.
Royalty Writes
