My Ex's Father Is My Alpha Daddy

Chapter 11: Wet tip

Elara

Alpha Damon didn't turn around and leave like any normal person would after stumbling onto a half-naked woman.

Instead, he just stood there. His dark eyes dilated, tracking every inch of my bare skin.

He parted his lips, his voice dropping to a low gravel. “You're in the men's bathroom.”

The realization hit me like a slap. I was the one trespassing.

My face burned with heat. I immediately snatched my wet shirt out of the basin, clutching it to my chest, and tried to brush past him before things could get any weirder.

But I didn't even make it past his shoulder.

His hand clamped around my arm, his grip firm and unyielding as he yanked me right back.

I gasped, the air leaving my lungs in a sudden rush. I tried to force myself to calm down, desperately shaking off the nervousness that was starting to paralyze me. But as I lifted my arms to shove the shirt back over my head, a rough, warm palm caught my chin.

He tilted my head up, forcing me to look straight into his dark green eyes.

“Does it hurt?”

It was just three simple words. But the way he said it, with a gentle, almost annoyed tone, like he actually, genuinely cared, made me swallow hard.

“Does it?” he repeated, his thumb lightly brushing the edge of my jaw.

Maybe it was because nobody had ever bothered to ask me if I was okay before. Or maybe it was just the intensity in his gaze. Either way, I found myself shaking my head wordlessly. I didn't want to admit that it throbbed, especially since he was the one who had set me up to get hit in the first place.

His eyes scanned the mark on my cheek. “You're not healing,” he said. Not quite a question.

I looked down. There was something unbearable about being looked at this closely. About being seen this specifically. I nodded once, small, and hoped he would leave it there.

And thankfully for once, Alpha Damon did leave it there,

However, he leaned his head down the next second.

My breath hitched as his face got closer. I expected him to say something else, but then I felt the warm, wet tip of his tongue swipe directly over the bruised skin of my cheek.

A violent jolt of electricity shot straight down my spine.

I let out a soft gasp, my hand shot out and grabbed the edge of the basin with my wet shirt to keep myself upright because my knees had made a unilateral decision to stop working.

He licked the bruise again, a slow, deliberate stroke that swirled with heat. It was so incredibly sensual, so overwhelming, that a sudden rush of blood flooded straight between my thighs.

He was so close. His mouth was practically brushing against my lips every time he shifted.

Why is he doing this?

This man, this cold, controlled, terrifying man who moved through rooms like he owned the air in them was standing in a bathroom with his mouth on my skin, and my body was responding to him like it had been waiting for this specific moment specifically. His scent hit me all over again, warm and deep, cedar and something darker underneath, and it made something animal in me want to press closer just to get more of it. It smelled so delicious, so dark and rich, that I wanted to bite him. I wanted to consume him. I want him to consume me.

It had never been like this with Jason. Not even close. Whatever I'd let Jason have, I'd given because he'd asked enough times that I eventually gave in because I wanted to offer him something, anything, to make him happy after weeks of his constant pestering.

But this? This was completely different.

Alpha Damon leaned in heavier, his tongue sucking and lapping at the sensitive skin of my face and neck. My insides spasmed. A heavy, slick heat pooled rapidly in my panties. I was hot. I was so incredibly hot for him, starving to feel more of his weight against me,

I forgot about the mental preparations I’d made last night. I forgot about the danger. I knew I was going to regret this later, but right now, I didn't care. If I was going to regret it, I had the rest of my life to do so.

But this minute belonged to me.

I dropped the wet shirt, my hands moving instinctively to touch his solid chest. His body felt like iron under my palms. I ran my hands down the firm, rigid contours of his muscles, my throat going completely dry.

I leaned all my weight into him, rubbing my bare chest against his shirt. The sheer heat radiating off him made a soft, broken moan slip from my throat.

As I moved against him, I felt his thick and rock-hard c**k, pressing firmly right against my stomach.

My heart went wild. Without thinking, my hand reached down, my fingers aiming straight for the obviously hard c**k in his trousers.

But before I could even touch him, Alpha Damon suddenly gripped my wrists and pulled back.

The sudden loss of his touch snapped me right out of the daze. It was like being hit with a bucket of freezing water. I jerked back away from him, my face burning with sudden, agonizing embarrassment.

What the hell did I just do?

I didn't even bother trying to put the shirt on. I scrambled down, snatched the wet fabric off the floor, and prepared to sprint out of the bathroom to save whatever dignity I had left.

But I didn't even make it to the door.

Before my brain could process his movement, Alpha Damon grabbed me. He spun me around violently, slamming my front flat against the cool tile wall.

In a fraction of a second, his firm hand clamped both of my wrists together behind my back, pinning them securely against the wall.

I gasped, my thin sports bra pressing into the tile so much that it felt like my naked breast was against it.

Alpha Damon crowded his massive body directly over mine from behind, his hot breath fanning across my bare shoulders.

“You're not leaving this room looking and smelling like that,” he growled, his voice dangerously low.

Before I could even shout, his free hand reached down, gripped the waistband of my baggy trousers, and yanked them straight down to my knees.