Who's My Triplet's Alpha Daddy? Novel

Chapter 52 Dec 23, 2025 POV: Lysander She takes just the head in my mouth, sucking gently while her hand strokes the shaft with perfect pressure. Her other hand slides up my thigh, nails scraping lightly through the fabric. My hips jerk without permission. "Easy." She pulls back just enough to speak, lips swollen and obscene. "Let me take care of you properly." She takes me deeper this time, hollowing her cheeks as she sucks. Her tongue does something that makes my toes curl inside my shoes, circling the head before she swallows me down again.

I'm gripping the armrests so hard my knuckles go white. My hands fist in her hair-not guiding, just anchoring myself to something real while she systematically destroys me. She moans around my cock and the vibration nearly kills me. She finds a rhythm that makes my legs shake. Up and down, taking me deep then pulling back to lavish attention on the sensitive head with her tongue. The desk rattles when my hips thrust without permission. "LYSANDER!" Caroline's voice in the hallway makes my blood freeze. Claire doesn't stop.

In fact, her mouth moves faster, taking me deeper like the danger is making her bolder. The door handle jiggles. Locked, thank God, but then Caroline's knock echoes through the office. "Lysander? Are you in there?" "Yeah." My voice comes out strangled, barely human. I grip the desk edge with white knuckles. "One second." I reach over with a shaking hand, unlock the door remotely. Caroline bounces in carrying two coffee cups, blonde hair in a high ponytail, wearing a blazer so aggressively pink it should come with a warning label.

She's got that Elle Woods energy-sunshine weaponized into corporate armor. "Okay so I know you said you prefer that boring place on Fifth but I went to the Lucky Leaf because their matcha is literally life-changing and-" She sets both cups on my desk with enough force to rattle them. "Are you okay? You look like you're having a stroke. Is it the Henderson brief? Because I told you that contract language was going to give someone an aneurysm." "Fine. Just-" I swallow hard as Claire's tongue presses against the underside of my cock with devastating accuracy.

"Working through some complex jurisdictional issues." Under the desk, Claire takes me deeper than before, her nose nearly touching my pelvis, throat working around my length in ways that should be illegal. "Mmm, super intense jurisdiction vibes, I can tell." She perches on the edge of my desk, completely oblivious, swinging one Louboutin-clad foot. "Anyway! I can't stay because I have this thing with a client who thinks he can hide assets in a Cayman Islands shell corporation like we're living in 2005, but-dinner tonight?

There's this new place in LoDo that has this insane truffle situation happening and honestly I've been craving carbs for like three days straight." Claire starts moving faster, sucking harder, one hand massaging my balls with perfect pressure. "Sure." The word comes out too fast, too desperate. "Sounds great." "Perfect! Seven?" She hops off the desk with that cheerleader energy that probably made her terrifying in high school. "Oh, and try the matcha. I know you're going to pretend it's too sweet but I saw your face last time.

You loved it." She's halfway to the door when she spins back, pointing at me with one perfectly manicured finger. "Also, breathe. Seriously. You look like you're about to pass out and I cannot have that on my conscience. My therapist says I need to stop taking responsibility for other people's oxygen intake but also, like, actually breathe." The second the door closes, my control shatters completely. I cum so hard I see actual stars, hands fisted in Claire's hair hard enough to hurt, her name tearing from my throat in a growl that's more wolf than man.

She takes everything, swallowing, throat working around my cock as I pulse in her mouth. She doesn't pull away until I'm boneless and shaking. Then she rises from under the desk, lips swollen and wet and obscene, a drop of my cum at the corner of her mouth that she licks away with deliberate slowness. Her eyes are blazing with something fierce and possessive. "I'm better than her." The words come out sharp, challenging, angry. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "The safe option, right? Isn't that what you called yourself with Thalia?

Well congratulations, you found another safe option to hide behind." She's breathing hard, chest heaving. Her nipples are hard beneath her dress-I can see them clearly now, pressed against the fabric-and there's a flush spreading down her throat. My wolf stirs again despite having just come. "I heard everything." Her voice climbs, loses that controlled edge. "Heard you making plans with Caroline while I had your cock in my mouth. While I was on my fucking knees swallowing your cum like some-" "Claire-" "Don't." She's backing away now, arms crossed defensively. "I knew what this was.

Knew I was second choice. But having it rubbed in my face while I'm literally swallowing your cum-" The shift happens without conscious thought. One second I'm sitting there sated. The next I'm on my feet, moving with predatory speed that makes her gasp and back into the desk. My hand closes around her throat-not choking, just holding, just claiming, thumb pressing against her racing pulse. "You want to know what I like?" My voice drops to gravel, more wolf than human now. "I like you exactly like this. Angry. Aroused.

So fucking real it makes my teeth ache." Her pulse hammers against my palm. She's panting, lips parted. "I like that you challenged me." I walk her backward until her ass hits the desk hard enough to rattle it. "That you took what you wanted instead of waiting for permission. That you're calling me on my bullshit instead of pretending it's fine." My free hand slides up her thigh, under her skirt. She whimpers when my fingers find bare skin. I spin her around roughly, bend her over the desk. Her cheek presses against the cool wood.

My hand fists in her hair, pulling just hard enough to arch her back. "Is this what you want?" I lean over her, mouth at her ear. "Want me to stop being so fucking careful with you?" "Yes." The word comes out broken, desperate. I shove her skirt up to her waist. Expensive lace panties that cost more than they should. I rip them. The fabric tears with satisfying violence, elastic snapping against her skin. She gasps, hips jerking back against me. "You're soaked." I press two fingers inside her without warning and she cries out.

"Fucking dripping for me even while you're angry." "Shut up and fuck me already." I laugh against her neck, dark and rough. Free my cock with one hand while the other keeps her pinned. Then I thrust into her in one smooth, deep stroke. She screams. Not pain-pure pleasure ripped from her throat without permission. I don't give her time to adjust. Just fuck her hard against the desk, one hand fisted in her hair, the other gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. The desk rattles with each thrust. Papers slide to the floor. "This what you wanted?" I growl against her ear.

"Wanted me to stop being so goddamn polite?" "Yes." She's pushing back against me, meeting each thrust. "God, yes." I change angle slightly and she keens, her hands scrambling for purchase against the smooth wood. Her walls clench around me and I know she's close. "Come for me." I reach around, find her clit with expert precision. "Show me how much you like getting fucked on my desk." Three more thrusts and she shatters. Her whole body goes taut, inner muscles clamping down on my cock with devastating force. I follow her over, emptying into her with a groan that's more animal than human.

We stay like that for a moment. Both breathing hard, my body covering hers, her cheek still pressed to the desk. Then I pull out slowly. She whimpers at the loss. I help her stand, turn her to face me. Her makeup is smudged, hair a disaster, dress wrinkled beyond repair. She's never looked more beautiful. "That was-" she starts. "Yeah." I cup her face, thumb tracing her swollen lower lip. "It was." Something shifts between us. Something I don't have words for yet. My phone buzzes on the desk. Reminder: Dinner with Caroline in two hours. Claire sees it. Her expression shutters.

"You should go," she says quietly. "Wouldn't want to be late for your date." The word lands like a slap. Archer