~Conner~
“Connor?”
It was Nathan’s voice. My oldest friend. I invited him over for us to talk business together.
He had come down from the upper deck at some point without me noticing, and now he stood a few feet away with a glass of something amber in one hand and his wife tucked into his side.
Her eyes were narrowed with concern, head tilted like she was studying me. Nathan was frowning, brows drawn low as he stepped closer.
“Jesus, man. You alright? You’re sweating like hell.”
I blinked, dragging my gaze away from Lily with all the force of a man trying to rip himself free from a f*****g trance. I looked at Nathan, then quickly swiped a hand over the back of my neck. My shirt was sticking to my back. My palms were damp. My throat was bone dry. It wasn’t the sun. It wasn’t the heat. It was her.
“I’m fine,” I said, and my voice came out low, gravelly, so obviously not fine it made Nathan raise an eyebrow.
“You don’t look fine,” his wife, Delilah, said gently. She reached forward and placed a cool hand on my forearm, and I almost flinched from the contact. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or… something worse.”
I forced a smile. Or maybe I didn’t. I wasn’t even sure what my face was doing anymore. Everything felt tight, tense, hot. I was still hard. Still painfully, desperately hard.
The outline of my c**k was digging into the zipper of my pants and I knew if I didn’t turn around and walk away, it would get worse. I glanced over my shoulder and of course she was still there.
Lily.
She had walked over to the railing now, her back to me, bent slightly forward as she looked over the water. The curve of her ass pushed back, making that white dress ride up even higher on her thighs.
One breeze — one strong gust — and I’d see everything. I’d see if she had anything on underneath. I’d see the swell of her heat-drunk cunt outlined in soft cotton and sun.
“I need water,” I said suddenly, cutting Nathan off before he could ask anything else. I ran a hand through my hair, which was already damp at the roots. “Too much sun.”
Delilah gave me a concerned look, but Nathan chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder.
“You’re not as young as you used to be,” he teased. “You probably need to pace yourself with the bourbon and the view.”
I gave a sharp laugh — dry, humorless — and nodded.
“Yeah. The view’s a lot to take in.”
I turned, already walking toward the interior of the yacht. I needed space. I needed cold. I needed to lock myself in my cabin and jerk the f**k off to the image of her walking barefoot into my life like a goddamn temptation wrapped in white cotton and bare thighs.
Because if I didn’t—if I stood there one second longer—
I was going to walk over to her, grab her by the hips, press her to that railing, and f**k her until the crew heard her scream.
~~
I slammed the door to my private cabin behind me and locked it. The second I turned, I yanked my belt open and shoved my pants down just enough to free my c**k.
It sprang up thick and angry, already glistening at the tip. I let out a long groan and leaned back against the door, chest rising and falling like I’d run through a goddamn war zone.
“f**k,” I whispered, wrapping my hand around the base of my c**k and squeezing hard, trying to take the edge off the desperation flooding my system.
But the second I closed my eyes—she was there. Lily. That f*****g dress. Those t**s bouncing without a bra. That innocent f*****g smile like she didn’t even know her scent was dragging me to the brink of madness.
My hand started to move before I even realized it. Long strokes. Tight. I pictured her on her knees. Mouth open. Eyes wide and teary while she struggled to take my c**k down her throat like a good little Omega slut.
I groaned louder now, my hips jerking forward into my own grip.
I imagined her whimpering beneath me, one leg thrown over my shoulder, her p***y stretched wide as I shoved my fingers into her and made her come over and over until she was begging for my knot.
I imagined grabbing her by the throat, pressing her face into the mattress, and pounding her from behind while she screamed Daddy and shook from the force of it.
I imagined flipping her over, licking her thighs, her clit, then slapping her cunt just to watch her cry and spread her legs wider for more.
“Oh f**k,” I growled, my voice hoarse, my chest heaving. “Oh f**k, Lily—fuck.”
I was panting like a wild f*****g animal. My hand pumped harder, faster, rougher. I could feel the veins in my c**k bulging against my palm, feel the fire racing up my spine, feel my balls tightening under me like they were seconds away from unleashing a f*****g flood.
I couldn’t stop picturing her.
I saw her on my bed, legs spread, eyes wide and lips trembling as I forced her thighs open. Her p***y would be glistening, untouched, pink and tight and swollen with need.
I’d slide two fingers into her just to hear the way she cried out, then use my thumb to rub her clit until she was begging to be filled.
I imagined her breath hitching, her voice breaking as she whispered, “Please, Daddy, I want it—I want all of it.”
“f**k—yes—just like that, kitten. Just like that,” I groaned, slamming my head back against the door as my c**k jumped in my hand.
I kept stroking. My grip was brutal. My pace was savage. I needed this. I needed to come. I needed to f*****g release the weeks of pent-up hunger I’d buried beneath shirts and manners and fake fatherly smiles. I wasn’t thinking like a man anymore. I was thinking like an Alpha. I was thinking like a beast who had seen his Omega and was losing his goddamn mind.
I imagined grabbing her from behind, yanking her dress over her ass, and slamming my c**k into her so hard her breath left her lungs.
I imagined her sobbing my name as I stretched her open, my knot swelling inside her, locking her down while her little p***y milked me for every last drop.
I stroked harder. I grunted. I swore.
“Oh f**k—oh f**k—oh f**k, Lily—I’m gonna f*****g come—”
My hand was flying over my c**k, slick with pre-c*m, thick and flushed red, twitching in my palm like it already knew it belonged inside her.
I was panting, sweating, hunched slightly as my hips bucked into my fist like I was thrusting into her soaked little cunt and not my own damn hand.
I fastened my rhythm, tightened my grip, squeezed the head of my c**k so hard the pleasure turned sharp, burning, filthy.
“Oh f**k—oh f**k yes—oh f**k that ass—I can’t wait to spank it.”
I imagined it. Her bent over the captain’s desk, bare from the waist down, her thighs trembling, her p***y soaked and pink and swollen, just waiting.
Her ass was round and soft and high, that perfect little curve made to be punished. I saw myself grabbing both cheeks in my hands, spreading her open, spitting on her hole, then slapping her ass until it bounced and turned red under my palm. She’d moan through the pain, bite her lip, arch back for more.
I gritted my teeth and stroked faster, harder, my muscles locking tight.
“Gonna slap that ass until you cry, kitten,” I growled under my breath. “Then I’m gonna f**k you from behind, stretch that p***y around Daddy’s c**k until you’re dripping and stuffed.”
My balls were drawn up so tight I thought they’d snap. I pumped my c**k with both hands now, one wrapped around the base, the other twisting over the head, slick and furious and soaked in my own filth.
I didn’t care how I looked. I didn’t care how loud I was. I was a man lost in lust, drunk on her scent, her image, her innocence.
“I’m gonna bend you over the window, make you scream my name while the whole f*****g ocean hears you getting ruined,” I hissed. “Gonna f**k you with my fingers first. One. Then two. Then three until that little cunt begs for more.”
My breath stuttered. My thighs locked.
“Then I’ll put it in, nice and slow, all of it. Every f*****g inch.”
I could hear her voice in my head. I could hear her whimpering, “Daddy, please—more—I need it, I need your c**k—”
That was it.
I snapped.
My whole body tensed as the orgasm hit me like a f*****g truck. My c**k jerked in my grip and thick, hot ropes of c*m shot out of me, spilling across my stomach, my hand, my shirt, hitting the floor in heavy, wet splatters.
I groaned deep and loud, head thrown back, chest heaving. I kept stroking through it, milking myself for every last drop, hips twitching with each pulse, c*m pouring from me like I hadn’t come in months.
“f**k—yes—take it—take all of Daddy’s c*m—so f*****g much—I’m gonna fill you up, kitten—gonna breed you so deep you’ll never forget how this c**k felt inside you.”
“I’m gonna fill you, kitten. I’m gonna f**k you so deep you won’t remember your f*****g name,” I hissed, my jaw locked tight, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
My whole body was shaking, sweat soaking through my shirt, c*m streaking down my knuckles. I kept pumping my c**k, even as it throbbed from the overstimulation, even as I came again
My breath hitched as my c**k twitched again, leaking more c*m even though I’d already emptied myself twice.
“f**k, I’m gonna breed you,” I snarled, voice low, shaky, unhinged. “Gonna knot you so deep you’ll never be able to f**k anyone else. Gonna fill your little cunt till it leaks down your thighs. You’ll smell like me for days.”
Just as I stood there, c**k in hand, c*m sliding down my wrist and cooling on my stomach, there was a knock at the door.
“Sir?” a female voice called gently through the wood. “Your room on the deck is ready.”
Fuck
It was the stewardess.
I coughed once, rough and low, trying to clear my throat of the filth that was practically choking me.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I said, my voice deeper than it should’ve been
“Yes, sir,” the stewardess answered politely, and I heard the soft click of her heels as she walked away.
I reached for a towel, wiping myself off slowly, still staring down at my c**k, still breathing like I’d just fought for my life.
I was going to see her again.
Up there. On the deck. Looking sweet and innocent with the same mouth I dreamed of f*****g. Smiling like she had no idea what she’d done to me. What she was still doing.
And I knew the truth.
This wasn’t over.
This was just the beginning.