Craving My Dad’s Alpha Bestfriend

Chapter Four: The ache

~ Rosette ~

Why would she even suggest that?

I mean, yes. I want to be f****d. So good. So messy.

I want to be slammed across this counter right now and f****d until my legs give out.

I want to be filled in so bad I forget my own name.

I want to be pinned against this wall and f****d until I’m dripping in every possible way.

Or pressed against the marble tiles, sliding into me like I'm the only pulse in existence.

I need to scream into the doorway until my body goes weak, my throat dry, my jaw numb from how hard it rubs against his thickness.

And I need it not to stop.

Don’t f*****g stop.

Until I can’t breathe.

Until I can’t take it anymore.

Until I see the gates of heaven.

Fucking heaven, sin and everything in between.

Drowning in my own juices.

But not just by anyone.

Not by just any twelve-inch d**k.

Draven .

Only him.

But how would I even tell her that?

That I’m obsessed with her father.

A man twice my age.

How do you explain something like that?

It’s insane. I’m insane.

“I only came to get a drink,” I said quickly. “I got thirsty.”

“Okay, cool. But don’t forget, the party starts at six pm in the Blackwood hall downstairs.” She winked as she brushed past me. “Don’t miss it.”

********************

We got to the party at exactly six.

Athena yanked me through the entrance, waving through the crowd until we finally reached the bar counter.

The room buzzed with energy, people swaying, shouting, the laughter spilling over the music. The faint smell of cologne and vodka filled the air.

Eyes turned our way. Mostly toward me. Probably because of my dress.

It clung too tight. Too short. Too daring. Too loud.

Anyone would look twice.

My n*****s stabbing against the silk, hard, hot, desperate.

It was the kind of dress that made people raise their brows. That made them whisper. That screamed for attention.

But I didn’t care.

I wanted it that way.

For Daddy.

Only for him.

I wanted him to see me.

To claim me.

To break the rules with me.

To feel me.

In ways, I’d never thought of.

Never imagined.

I wanted to be his.

I knew I was his.

His alone.

I felt it in my bones. In my legs when he’s close. In my throat when he says my name. In my very being, like a sin I shouldn’t crave, but I did.

Yes I did, more than I can admit.

God.

The way he makes me feel.

He was a temptation in human form.

A ruin I’d willingly walk into.

Corruption wrapped in immortality.

Athena nudged me, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Go,” she whispered, smiling too wide— like she already knew exactly what I was thinking. “Tell him the party’s started. He’ll want to know you’re here.”

“Who?”

“Daddy, baby girl.” She waved her hand like it was nothing.

Heat crawled up my spine.

My chest clenched. Tightened.

She made it sound easy, like walking up to him wouldn’t shatter the last bit of control I had left.

But not tonight.

Tonight, I didn’t want to be safe.

I wanted more than I should.

Too much, maybe.

And that’s what he does to me.

That’s what he is to me.

So, I nodded and forced myself toward the hallway.

My legs arching with the pull of it.

My breath hitching with want.

The farther I walked, the quieter it became. The music behind me soon faded into a dull hum. The light dimmed, warm, low— casting shadows across the walls like reaching fingers.

And then I heard it.

A sound

Sharp.

Muffled.

Wrong.

I froze.

My heart seemed to have stopped for a minute.

Then, it came again.

This time it was almost like a strained, uneven breath, like someone trying not to make a sound.

I turned.

It was coming from one of the side rooms.

The door was ajar, a thin slice of light spilling into the hallway.

My heart thudded.

Someone could be hurt or in pain.

Or worse.

I stepped closer, fingers brushing the doorframe.

The sound came again, even louder.

“f**k… Rose.”

“I need you, Rosette.”

I froze.

My name.

Why my name?

I pushed the door open just a little farther, peeping into the room.

My eyes widened.

My breath punched out of me, sticking to my throat like ice as the scene inside.

It was Draven.

Slumped in a chair, his head thrown back, exposing the hard line of his throat and jaw. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, his thoughts half-lost in something dark and consuming.

He didn’t look my way, but I knew.

He could smell me.

He knew I was there.

Watching him moan my name like I was the only thing that existed.

His hand gripped the head of his c**k. Hard. Tight. f*****g ruthless.

His teeth clenched. So hard he almost tasted blood.

Fuck. f**k. Fuck

But his hand didn’t move, It was just there. Wet. Soaked. Angry. Dripping with precum glistening under the low light like shiny armor.

My mouth dropped to the floor.

My thighs pressed together.

I could’ve walked away. Pretend I never saw any of this.

But I didn’t.

I wanted to watch.

To watch my supposed guardian groan my name like I belonged to him.

Like he owned me

So I stood there like a f*****g ghost.

Lurking.

Waiting.

Dripping with want.

God.

The sight of it.

It made my p***y throb.

It f*****g throbbed.

My hip twitching, looking for anything, just anything to ease the ache.

The f*****g ache.