Chapter 182: On His Lap

Olivia’s POV

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to get off his lap, but Alpha Damien held me down firmly. I struggled, but it was no use. He was too strong.

"Let me go!" I murmured, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I didn’t like how hot my body was getting. It was confusing. Wrong.

I had never been in a position like this. Bent over a man’s lap. Especially not a man like Damien.

"You’re staying right here," he said in a deep, calm voice. "You acted silly. Now you’ll count."

"Count?" I asked, confused.

Then I felt it. He lifted the back of my robe. My heart jumped as cool air hit my thighs. My gown was up, and I knew he could see everything. I was wearing a thin black gestrin, and it didn’t cover much.

"Damien!" I gasped, trying to move.

"If you struggle again, I’ll make it twenty," he said. "Ten if you behave."

I froze, swallowing hard. My face burned with shame... but also something else. My body felt warm, even needy, and I hated it.

"This is embarrassing," I muttered.

He leaned down, his voice low and close to my ear. "Don’t be shy now," Damien murmured, his voice like a slow ripple of thunder. "We’ve already done more than this, haven’t we?"

My body tensed as the memory replayed in my head.

I hid my face in my arms, trying to stay still.

Then came the first smack—sharp and loud. I jumped.

"One..." I said quietly.

His hand rested on my waist again. "Louder, Olivia," Damien repeated, his palm resting heavy and warm on my lower back.

My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear myself think. Everything felt too much—his touch, his voice, the heat spreading across my skin. My cheeks were already on fire, but now that fire was sinking lower, curling deep in my stomach.

"Two," I whispered louder this time, trying to stay still, even as my body betrayed me.

His hand came down again. Another sharp sting. I flinched, a soft gasp slipping from my lips.

"Three..."

The ache wasn’t just from the spanking anymore. Something else had awakened inside me—something I didn’t understand. I was wet. Soaked. The thin fabric between my legs stuck to me, and I could only hope he didn’t notice. But a part of me knew he already had.

Damien said nothing, but I felt his hand slide just a little lower, his thumb brushing the top of my thigh. My breath hitched again.

"Four."

My voice shook. My hips twitched before I could stop myself. I was losing control. Everything in me screamed that this was wrong, but I couldn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.

"Five."

I felt him shift beneath me, and then I froze—not from fear, but something far more alarming. His cock was hard. I could feel it clearly now beneath me, pressing against my stomach. And for a second, I forgot who he was—forgot that he was Alpha Damien.

All I felt was the heat, the pulse, the way his body responded to mine.

"Six," I breathed, my thighs pressing together on instinct. My face buried deeper into my arm, hoping he couldn’t hear the soft whimper that slipped out.

This time, his palm came a little harder, and I could feel my ass cheek bounce.

"Seven." My words came as a moan.

Fuck! Olivia, get a grip of yourself! My wolf groaned inside me, but I totally ignored her.

Alpha Damien didn’t speak. He just exhaled through his nose, slow and deep, and the sound of his breathing sent a chill down my spine. His hand was still on me—warmer now, heavier. It slid over my skin, not to spank this time, but to caress. His palm moved in slow, deliberate strokes over the curve of my ass.

I clenched my eyes shut.

"Damien..." I whispered, breath hitching when his fingers brushed beneath the thin strap of my gestrin. I flinched, half from the sensation and half from panic. "Don’t!" But I didn’t move. I didn’t mean it. Not really. And somehow, he knew.

"I haven’t even given you ten yet," he murmured, his voice low, husky, impossibly calm. "But look at you. So wet you’re sticking to me."

He wasn’t wrong. I could feel it—every inch of soaked fabric clinging to me, revealing far too much. And when he tugged my panties down, slowly, purposefully, baring me completely, I whimpered.

"No," I said weakly, lifting my head. "Damien, we can’t..."

"You’re my nephews’ wife," he said, his voice hard and husky. "I know that."

His hand didn’t leave me. It cupped my bare ass now, fingers splaying, squeezing lightly. My hips trembled under his touch. The shame burned hotter than before, but it was tangled with something darker, hungrier.

"This is wrong," I said again, trying to wriggle out of his lap.

He held me tighter.

He whispered against my ear. "But don’t lie to me, Olivia. Your body’s screaming yes."

I shivered. He was right, and it terrified me. I hated how much I wanted this, how every part of me throbbed for more.

"Please don’t..." I whispered, even as my thighs parted slightly on their own. "Please don’t put your finger in... we can’t... I’m not—"

His fingers moved lower, brushing the slick folds of my entrance, and I gasped.

"Damien!"

He groaned, deep and raw, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Fuck, Olivia. You’re soaked."

I twisted on his lap and slapped his arm, hard. "Don’t touch me, I don’t belong to you!" I snapped.

But my voice cracked at the end, betraying me. I wasn’t pulling away anymore. I was pressing back into him, my skin flushed, my core throbbing for his touch.

His mouth was at my ear again, his breath hot. "No, you’re not mine... but you should have been."

Then, with maddening slowness, his fingertips traced my entrance—just barely—teasing me with the promise of more. My entire body jerked, hips twitching involuntarily.

A broken sound left my throat. "Damien... please..."

He brushed the tip of his finger over my slick folds again, not entering—just enough to make me arch and tremble.