Run With Me
Run With Me
~Lyra~
He stepped closer, slow and dangerous, until my back hit the counter and his chest was pressed against mine, warm and hard and possessive.
One of his hands curled around my jaw, tilting my face up so I had to look at him. His other hand rested low
on my hip, fingers digging in like he wanted to leave bruises there. Ownership marks.
His thumb traced my bottom lip slowly, and his voice dropped to that gravel–dark whisper that always made
my toes curl and my thoughts vanish.
“Just give me the go–ahead, kitten,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine like he was trying to crawl
into my soul. “Please, I would make Marcus pay for hurting you. For hurting what’s mine.”
Oh my God.
That word again.
Mine.
I swear my p***y clenched so hard I almost folded. My breath caught. My entire body went hot and cold at
once. Because Damon wasn’t asking like a guy trying to be sweet. He was begging like a man who needed violence the way he needed oxygen.
I smirked. Slowly. Deliberately.
I leaned closer, licked my lips like a f*****g villainess in a porno, and said, “And what would you do to him,
Daddy?”
His whole body froze.
Like I’d just pressed a detonator on something feral living inside him.
And then he growled.
Loud. Deep. From his chest. Like he was trying not to break something.
He grabbed the back of my neck tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to make my brea
eyes darkened like someone had dropped night into his bloodstream.
utter, and his
“What would I do to him?” he repeated, voice like black velvet soaked in gasoline. “I’d start with his hands.
The ones he used to touch you. I’d break them. Slowly. One bone at a time. Then I’d make him look at you–at
the girl he betrayed–and tell you exactly what he did. Word for word. While I made sure he pissed himself
from fear.”
I gasped.
Like actually gasped.
And not from fear. No. From pure f*****g heat. Because holy s**t, what was wrong with me? Why was that hot? Why was revenge kink suddenly my new favorite thing?
My thighs squeezed together again. My heart was thudding like a speaker on max volume. I was pretty sure if he kept talking like that, I was going to come just from listening.
=
Run With Me
“And after that?” I asked, because I couldn’t help it. Because I needed more. Because I was sick, apparently. ”
What then?”
Damon leaned in until his lips brushed my ear, and his hand slid lower, gripping the back of my thigh and pulling me into him so I could feel the thick, hard proof of how much he meant every word.
“I’d make him beg for me to stop,” he said, voice a whisper but sharp enough to cut. “And I wouldn’t. Not until you smiled, kitten. Not until I saw you watching and smiling while I destroyed the boy who dared to make you
cry.”
And I swear on every goddamn cell in my body—I moaned.
Right there. No shame. No filter. Just a full, breathy, brain–dead moan because that was it. That was the line.
That was the one that did it. I was gone.
“You’re sick,” I whispered, dragging my hands up his chest, feeling every tense muscle, every inch of
controlled violence waiting to be unleashed. “You are literally sick in the head.”
“I am,” he agreed, grabbing my ass now, pulling me against his c**k like he was about to bend me over the kitchen counter and f**k the word ex out of my memory. “And you love it.”
“I do,” I whispered back, biting my lip because I couldn’t help it. “I love it so much it’s honestly concerning.
Like, I probably need therapy, but instead I have you. So we’re just gonna roll with it.”
His mouth curved into the kind of smile that came before destruction.
“f**k therapy,” Damon said darkly, and then he leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck, right
where my pulse was hammering like it was trying to warn me he was about to do something reckless.
His lips dragged slowly up my skin, hot and possessive and perfect, and then he murmured, “You need something better than talking, kitten. You need a run.”
I froze.
Like actually froze, because what the hell did he just say?
“A run?” I repeated, pulling back to look at him like he’d just suggested we go join a yoga class in the middle
of a war zone. “As in… outside? With legs?”
He smirked. That smug, dangerous, Alpha smirk that made me want to slap him and suck nim at the same
time.
“Yes. A run,” he said calmly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Through the woods. Fast. Free.
You need to shift, Lyra. You need to let your wolf breathe.”
I stared at him for a long second, blinking slowly like maybe if I took enough time to process, this moment
would start making sense.
And then I lost it.
I straight up flailed my arms, took a step back, and went full chaos.
“No,” I said immediately, and very loudly. “Absolutely not. Do you know who you’re talking to right now? Because I don’t think you do. Damon, you’re an Alpha. Like, the Alpha. Savage, terrifying, neck–breaking type Alpha. And I think–just a wild little guess here—you know what I am!”
He just raised one brow. “And what are you, kitten?”
111
O
215
< Run With Me
“Oh my God,” I hissed, pacing now because of course I was. My thoughts were moving at eighty miles per
hour and I needed to move with them.
“I’m an Omega. An unmarked. Oh wait scratch that, I forgot you f*****g bit me when we f****d. He smirked
when I said it as I continued.
“I am unstable, slightly traumatized, probably–going–into–heat again cause I can feel it. Do you have any idea what happens when an Omega goes running with a horny Alpha in the woods?! That’s not a run, that’s foreplay with bark.”
He chuckled.
Not laughed.
Chuckled.
Like he thought it was cute that I was spiraling and melting down like my entire reproductive system wasn’t already clenching at the idea of being chased.
“And who told you I was horny kitten” he muttered with a smirk.
“Oh please. Cut the act Damon. I f*****g know you too well”
“I won’t touch you,” he said, still calm. Still smug. Still very much the problem. “Unless you want me to.”
“Unless I want you to?” I shrieked, because what the hell kind of loophole Alpha logic was that? “Damon, do you have any idea what I’d do if you chased me through the woods? I’d fall. I’d whimper. I’d trip over a log and beg you to f**k me against it. I wouldn’t survive two minutes!”
His grin spread like sin across his face, and I could see it–clear as day–the hunger in his eyes, the way his body tensed like he wanted me to say yes, the way his wolf was already pacing under his skin, waiting.
“That’s the point,” he said softly. “You need to be hunted.”
And oh my God.
That was it.
That was the line that broke me.
My thighs squeezed so tight I almost gave myself a cramp. My hands flew to my hair. My whole body was hot. Like, stupid hot. Like maybe–l–should–jump–out–the–window hot. Because what kind of line was that? What kind of man said that with a straight face and expected me to stay calm?
“I hate you,” I whispered dramatically, already knowing I was going to say yes. “Like ger. sick. You’re dangerous. You’re going to ruin me.”
y hate you. You’re
“I already have,” he said, stepping closer until his mouth was right against mine. “Now run, kitten. Before I change my mind and take you right here instead.”
And I swear to God–I whimpered.
Because part of me wanted to run.
But the other part?
The filthy, needy, Omega part?
Wanted to be caught. He growled as he caught me starting into space in thoughts.
Run With Me
“s**t, Lyra,” he growled under his breath, taking one step closer like he couldn’t help himself anymore, like he was trying not to pounce right here in the kitchen. “You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”
I blinked up at him, breathing way too fast for someone who was still fully clothed and allegedly safe inside
her house.
My palms were sweaty. My thighs were sticky. My brain was just looping one sentence on repeat: Do not say
yes. Do not say yes. Do not say yes.
“Run with me,” he said again, slower this time, darker, like he knew exactly how to crawl under my skin and
make it burn. “Let your wolf out. Let me see her. Let her see me.”
I shook my head quickly. “Nope. Absolutely not. Bad idea. Worst idea. You’re literally like a big, scary, top–of–the–food–chain Alpha. The kind with glowing eyes and zero self–control. And me? who gets turned on when you growl, Damon. I’m not trying to start a forest fire with my vagina.”
He smirked. Smirked. Like he thought it was cute that I was spiraling again. He reached for me, trailing his fingers down my arm, soft and slow and way too possessive for my nervous system to handle right now.
“Oh, kitten,” he purred, brushing a knuckle along my jaw. “You’re scared I’ll catch you, aren’t you?”
“I’m scared I’ll let you,” I snapped, but my voice betrayed me by sounding all breathy and horny instead of firm
and threatening.
He chuckled, tilting his head slightly, watching me like prey. “You say that like it’s not going to happen. Like you won’t look back at me halfway through the woods with those big eyes and that soaked little scent trail, begging me to tackle you.”
I whimpered.
Like actually whimpered.
My thighs pressed together on instinct, and I cursed under my breath because he noticed. Of course he
noticed.
He stepped behind me, leaned in close, and whispered against the back of my neck, “I’ll give you a head start. Just enough to make it fun.”
“Damon,” I warned, but it came out like a moan.
“Ten seconds, kitten,” he said, already sounding like he was counting them in his head. “Ten seconds to run. Ten seconds before I let the Alpha out. Before I stop pretending to behave. Before I chase you down, pin you to the forest floor, and remind you who you belong to.”
And God help me, I wanted it.
I wanted it so bad I could barely breathe.
His lips brushed my ear.
“Say yes.”
I turned around slowly, chest rising and falling way too fast, eyes locking with his.
And I smirked.
“I hope you’re fast, Daddy.”
111
O
Run With Me
He grinned, fangs flashing.
“Then run, little Omega.”
Royalty Writes.
#Vote# This is so much fun. I wonder what would happen during the run and after the run? How bad do you want to find out? Let me know then maybe I might release one chapter
8
Comments
Watch videos get points (0/10) >
