Breed Me, Daddy Alpha-Chapter 37.

I watched myself.

My thighs trembling.

My pussy glistening.

My hands shaking with the need to touch.

Then I did.

My fingers slid between the folds, parting them gently, slowly, making myself feel every ridge, every pulse, every wet, messy throb.

I moaned.

Louder this time.

No holding back.

"Damon..." I breathed again, and this time, my whole body answered. My clit twitched. My walls fluttered. My cunt dripped.

I circled it. Slow at first.

Then harder.

Faster.

I leaned back on one hand, other fingers working that swollen little nub like I’d been starving for release all night.

And I had.

Not from the stranger.

From him.

From Damon.

His name pulsed through my head with every stroke. His voice. His face. His fucking body. The way he looked at me sometimes..like he was two seconds from grabbing me by the throat and bending me over the nearest surface.

My hips rocked.

My legs fell wider.

I was panting now, breath fogging the mirror behind me.

"Please..." I whispered.

I didn’t know what I was begging for. More? Harder? Him?

All of it.

I slid two fingers inside.

My pussy welcomed them.

Tight. Hot. Flooded.

I fucked myself slow at first.

Then faster.

Twisting. Curling. Hitting that spot.

And I imagined his fingers doing it. Long. Strong. Veined. Brutal.

I imagined his voice in my ear, rough and low.

("Look at this messy little cunt. You’ve been saving this for me, haven’t you?")

I imagined him gripping my thighs, holding them open while he watched me break.

("You think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at me, baby girl? The way you squeeze your thighs shut around nothing like a needy little bitch in heat?")

"Damon..."

I breathed it again, softer, like prayer.

My back arched off the counter, thighs trembling, cunt clenching with every teasing swirl of my fingers.

The mirror was fogged behind me from how heavy I was panting, how much heat was pouring off my skin. I looked wrecked.

My nipples were hard and I picked them and played with them.

I rubbed my clit faster, my palm grinding it hard enough to make my legs quake.

I moaned again.

Louder.

"Ahhhh...Damon...f-fuck...yes—..."

My cunt clenched hard around my fingers. I pushed them deeper.

So deep I whimpered.

So deep my thighs shook, slick dripping in thick streams over my hand, down the counter, to the floor.

"Please," I gasped, voice cracking. "Please, I need you. I need—fuck—I need it harder..."

I thrust my fingers harder, curling them just right, hitting that place inside me that made my whole body lock up.

"Oh my God...Damon...Daddy..ahhh—fuck, fuck—"

My hips rocked, my eyes rolled, my moans spilled louder, more desperate.

I was panting his name like it was a curse, a blessing, a drug I couldn’t live without.

"Damon. Damon. Damon—fuuuck me—please—I want you so bad—I c-can’t—I can’t stop.."

I added a third finger.

My pussy stretched around it, sucking it in greedily.

My head fell back against the mirror with a dull thud as I cried out, my whole body tensing.

"Shit—ngghh—Damon—yesyesyes—ahh.."

My thighs slapped against the counter as I fucked myself harder, my palm slamming against my clit in frantic, filthy circles.

The pressure built.

Higher.

Tighter.

I could barely breathe. Barely think.

Just his name in my head. His scent. His voice.

("You like this? Like showing that little cunt off to me? Look at yourself, baby. Look at the mess you made just for Daddy.")

I wailed.

A real, raw, gasping moan that tore from my throat like I was being touched by fire.

"Aaaah...ohmyfuck...Damon...yesyesyes, I’m—f-fuck, I’m gonna—"

I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

I exploded.

My walls spasmed so tight around my fingers I nearly pulled them out.

But I didn’t.

I shoved them deeper.

Rode it.

Rode the high like a wild girl starved for more.

My pussy gushed, slick coating my fingers, pouring down my thighs, puddling under me.

And I kept going.

I couldn’t stop.

My clit was throbbing. Screaming for more.

So I rubbed it harder, messier, whining between my teeth.

"More—oh f-fuck—please—Damon—again, again—I wanna cum again—I need it..."

I was drenched.

Drenched and trembling and so close again it made me dizzy.

My back arched. My hips bucked. My thighs slapped together.

The second orgasm ripped through me like lightning.

I screamed.

Raw. Guttural.

My fingers fucked into me so fast it sounded obscene—wet slaps, messy squelches, my breath catching with every twitch of my cunt.

"Ahhh—fuuuck—Damon—ohmyGod—YES—yes—right there—Daddy, please—harder, harder—YESSS..."

I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t.

I was a mess now. A wild fucking mess with nothing left but heat and need and the scent of my own slick coating the entire fucking room.

I kept whispering his name through clenched teeth, through tears, through screams.

"Damon... Damon... Damon..."

My body convulsed.

Another orgasm.

Then another.

I cried through it. Whimpered like I was breaking, like this release was burning me clean from the inside out.

When it finally slowed... when my fingers stilled and my legs dropped open...

I couldn’t even speak.

I just lay there on the marble countertop.

Panting.

Soaked.

A thick string of cum still stretched from my slit to my wrist.

I watched it.

Mesmerized.

The glisten of my slick. The twitch of my pussy still clenching with aftershocks.

My lips parted, trembling.

I licked my fingers.

Tasted myself.

Closed my eyes as a low moan rolled from my throat.

"Fuck... Damon..."

That’s when I heard it.

Knock. Knock.

I flinched.

The voice outside came loud.

"Open the fucking door, bitch!"