Villainess Marked For Her Alpha-Chapter 56: Aftereffects (Slight R18)

I woke gasping to dawn light stabbing my eyes through the windows, body sticky-slick... or semen as I am an alpha—whatever, under tangled cream duvet—thighs and sheets drenched in my own creamy cum, slick cooled crusty between folds, my own scent cloying thick in the air.

The vibrator buzzed insistent against my tongue, the swollen part nudging throat raw; I fumbled it off with numb fingers, pulling free with a wet schlick, purple silicone glossy from mouth and core. Lips throbbed swollen bee-stung, jaw aching deep from desperate bobs; eyes puffed red-rimmed from crying? Tears streaking pillow damp—when?

What happened last night?

My memories blurred thick fog, head pounding as I stared at the purple vibrator limp on soaked sheets—didn’t I buy this knot-veined beast to tease omegas with, stretch them begging on my command? Why the fuck did I shove it deep in my own dripping core, suck it worship-slut? I’m a goddamn alpha—I am not an omega!

What the hell happened?

My throat rasped like scorched sandpaper when I dared a croak—my voicebox ravaged from night’s vibrator-deep bobs, swollen lips split and throbbing tender as overripe plum, yielding only hoarse wheezes that dissolved into coughs.

Dawn pierced relentless through the windows, gilding the bedroom in reluctant gold, as I peeled back the cum-crusty duvet with trembling hands—thighs ungluing with a slick, shameful schlick, pearlescent trails drying flaky between them, knees buckling like newborn fawn mid-rise.

Why am I feeling so ashamed of myself? I only masturbated, didn’t I?

Masturbation was not a crime. I relieved myself of the stress... okay, what stress did I even have? Helly Paws? Three-step plan?

My arms flailed wild for salvation, palm crashing the nightstand’s oak edge—lamp teetered rattle-clatter on the brink, brass base glinting mocking as breath hitched raw panic, hauling upright by, my sheer alpha will, clutching wood till splinters bit skin, every sinew screaming protest from feral midnight thrash.

Even a walk of shame was less painless than this.

Bow-legged limp dragged me to the bathroom marble expanse, vibrator abandoned mid-floor buzzing faint dirge like a dying insect, its purple vein-glisten accusing.

White-knuckled grip clamped the sink’s cool edge—mirror hurled back my ruin—raven hair a matted sweat-snarl halo, emerald eyes puffed crimson-rimmed sockets swollen from... tears? Okay, I couldn’t control myself at that, could I? This appearance screamed everything to the whole world.

Cheeks bore fever-stain blotches, full lips bruised deep plum from relentless suck-abuse—for some reason I don’t know why I sucked a vibrator—also, my chin looks red. Did I really give a blowjob to a vibrator which wasn’t supposed to be used on me?

The toothbrush danced erratic in quivering fingers as mint paste blobbed generous, scrubbing halting circles over enamel—foam cascaded dribbling chin milky rivulets, jaw grinding protest each stroke, spit flecked bloody-faint pink from raw palate stretch, sink swirling evidence away.

Hobble reversed to bedframe’s shadow, fresh linens wrenched crisp from linen press—old sheets balled reeking of my musk... or scent, betrayal heavy as sin, stuffed hamper-deep to bury.

My whole body throbbed in a vicious symphony of aches—thighs chafed raw from slick-burn fire that stung with every shift, core tender and stretched from deep invasions, pulsing hollow like an empty ache begging fill

Nipples grazed to abraded peaks, red and throbbing from vicious pinches that left them hypersensitive peaks; nape prickling with phantom-bitten ghost-hunger, skin tingling as if teeth had sunk real claim.

I collapsed nude onto the mattress edge, breath ragged, skin filled with raw goosebumps under dawn’s chill kiss filtering through the windows—cool air pebbling every curve despite inner furnace.

No, I can’t sleep now. I still have to go to the bathroom and clean myself up. I feel really dirty with myself.

Crawling en-suite bathward on hands and knees felt endless, muscles quivering protest, raven hair trailing damp tangles across cool tiles.

Taps roared thunderous when twisted full, clawfoot tub devouring water in frothy lavender suds—a blooming purple nebula of bubbles rising thick and fragrant, steam billowing merciful fog to veil the mirrors’ judgmental gleam.

A good bath will make me feel good.

Sinking inch by agonizing inch into the scalding embrace was torture-bliss—hot water lapped greedy at my full breasts, buoyant orbs bobbing free, nipples peaking hard defiant through pain’s veil, sending jolts straight to my core. Not again!

I drew up my knees instinctively, thighs splaying wide in tub’s porcelain cradle as fingers dipped hesitant ritual between them, parting swollen folds which were still laced with my cum.

My pussy throbbed hypersensitive bloom, outer lips puffy plush guarding inner secrets; clit stood hooded sentinel pulsing faint Morse code under tentative touch—swollen pearl begging mercy yet craving more.

Two digits circled reverent first, slow spirals scooping creamy remnants thick as pearly nectar—my own cum rinsing languid under iridescent bubbles that popped soft kisses on skin, shivers electric chasing spine’s full length till toes curled.

Wait? Am I pleasuring myself again? 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

The inner walls fluttered traitorously—g-spot ghost-tender lightning each deliberate graze, sparking white-hot that arched my back against tub’s curve.

Fresh gush betrayed despite agony, warm slick mingling bathwater milky; hoarse moan clawed free from cracked throat raw, hips twitching instinctive rut against palm’s unyielding plane, grinding desperate for friction that teased without mercy.

Did I just...?

Oh, fuck.

I shook my head at my own actions.

Cleansed thorough but craving’s ember reignited insidious—fingers lingered delving lazy spirals deeper, three now stretching tender, thumb flicking clit relentless till waves-built tsunami-slow.

The bathwater rippled concentric with my hushed moans turning whimpers pleading, body writhing splash-soft—breasts heaving water-glisten, raven strands plastered throat as climax crested gentle shatter, walls milking fingers flood-fresh.

After making myself even more tired, I floated vessel adrift in lavender haze, breaths evening to quiet sobs of release half-shame, half-surrender. I will just send a message to Hellen, asking her for a holiday. Also, I can’t call her to my home too. What if she teases me about my appearance?! No, I can’t call her... but I am pretty sure that I can’t take care of myself.

So, who should I call?

Reyes!!