Lust Drunk

~Valerie~

My muscles clench tight.

Everything in me is fucking taut and on edge. I can’t breathe properly, my heart is pounding too fast and too loud for me to even catch up with.

Desire pools in my stomach, hot and fast. My skin burns, prickling, scalding, like if he doesn’t touch me soon I’d die.

It’s too damn much.

I need him.

I want him inside me.

My breath hitches, my shoulders press against the door. My tits thrust out, round, full, ripe.

Gods, I need to touch myself. I can’t… can’t survive anymore. I didn’t know I was going to be this hot in his presence. I didn’t know I’d be spiraling out of control just after seeing him.

Just one close encounter. One fucking look and he called my name, now I’m like a sex-lust puppy. My nipples are poking out, my tits are aching and feeling heavier, heat dampens in my core seeping down in slick stream.

I’m stuttering and panting, lust-drunk and breathless.

The way my name rolls off his tongue, slow, intense, raw, fuck, it feels like sin.

I want to hear it again. I want him to say my name like that again, and I want him to touch me when he does. I want his large, thick, veiny hands on me, gripping, fondling.

Oh.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I shift my legs, spreading them apart, my shorts hanging around my knees.

My pussy throbs, clenching midair, squeezing out more warmth of slick liquid.

My nails claw up my thighs, shaking. My lips fall open, panting softly as my breathing slows. My pulse ticks violently. My legs tremble in the heels, I can barely hold my weight on them.

But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t stop me.

I gasp as my hand moves dangerously close to my pulsing pussy. I bite my teeth, drop my gaze down, and watch as my fingers inch closer.

I spread my legs wider again, and I stroke a finger over my pussy lips. I moan, my other hand clamping around my mouth, sealing the sound.

Raw. Soft. Slicky. Moist.

Fuckkk.

My breath becomes rushed, quickens. I swallow my saliva and part my lips again. My skin hums like rumbling air, both cold and hot air brand my skin.

Two fingers.

I slide two fingers down my clit. I hiss, my hips jerk up, my pussy burns, my nipples harden. My nipples stand perky, tight, seeking attention.

It hurts.

I cup my other hand around one tit and squeeze as my fingers glide through my clit.

It’s not enough. I want more.

My inside is on fire. It’s tearing me apart. It’s eating me up.

I press my fingers deeper, rubbing slowly around the tiny hole, then gently dragging them up my clitoris. I hum softly. My hips circle quietly, my stomach tightens, my back arches, and I squeeze my tits roughly, moving from one to the other.

My head falls back on the door and a soft sigh escapes my lips. I swallow against my dry throat, my eyes close.

Yeah, like that. Yes, Daddy. I’m your whore, just take me however. Fuck me, use me, dump me.

Ohhh. Daddy, this pussy is all yours. It’s weeping for you. It’s whispering your name. Come fuck it, Daddy. Come claim it.

My breath stutters, thickens. My clit feels strained, tight. A little electric current pulses through my pussy, mild and low.

My hands move on their own accord, rubbing, fondling, pressing slowly, deliberately, taking their time. It’s like I have all the damn time in the world.

My hips grind sensuously. I bite my lower lip, sucking it in.

I’m soaked, drenched, and messy. Slick wetness gulfs my fingers. Every rub of my fingers, a wet sound echoes in the air. My pussy lips are fucking drenched, the wetness trails down my thighs, sticky and soft.

My scent thickens in the air, wild, mouth-watering, addictive.

I hope he smells it. I fucking hope it gets to Ronan and drives him crazy. That he comes here, trailing the scent.

Oh fuckkk. Fuck, I need him. I want him. I’m starving for him.

The pressure in my groin escalates. It’s scaling, wrenching.

My hands start to move faster. My hips buckle, my legs shake, shifting apart.

Faster. Harder.

Yes. I want his face pressed to my pussy. I want to feel his snot on it. I want his cold, unsmiling face beneath me. I want to ride him. I want to grind my hips on his face.

I want him to lap at every drop of my wetness. I want him swallowing my juice. I want to feel his tongue slide in my pussy hole, teasing, tasting, eating me out.

I want to cream his face in my essence. Want him soaked and drenched too.

My thighs quiver. My body shivers. I moan as the first wave of orgasm hits me. My jaw clenches. My chest tightens.

My fingers go fast, too fucking fast for my natural pace. My hips thrust forward, greedily chasing the pressure.

Wet, sloppy sounds hiss in the air. My body sways uncontrollably. My tits bounce off my chest.

Yes. Harder, harder, please. Ohhh, oh gods, gods… damn. Yes. Yessss. Oh yes. Uhhh, ahhh, yeah. Fuck me, Daddy. Take me, please.

My feet shift apart. My shorts slide downward, hitting the floor.

Warmth gleams against my fingertips, trailing down my thighs. My hand drips with my wetness. My pussy squirts, milking more juice, marring my thighs and my cunt with its rushness.

I’m too fucking drenched right now, not just a wet, soaked cunt. There’s a puddle underneath me here, messy, ruined, flaming.

My pussy is swollen and sore, red and fevered, but I still can’t help it. My fingers press painfully against my raw, sore flesh, rubbing and rubbing.

I release my tits and press my palm on the door above my head. My body rocks against my hand. My head twists, swinging side to side. My lips hang open, blowing out breath through my mouth.

My body burns. Sweat dampens my skin. My throat dries out.

It’s too much.

This is fucking too much.

I gasp quietly as another orgasm hits me. My eyes roll up in my head. My legs tense. My hips grind down, locking my hand in between.

I shake. My eyes snap open. A strangled moan tears from my throat.

“Fuckkk.”

Loud. Slow. Pained.

My body vibrates wildly, banging against the door. My knees buckle. My fingers twitch. I moan, crying out my release, throaty, panting.

My fingers remain clenched between my thighs, tweaking and pinching my pussy lips.

Ohhhh, please… fuck. Yeah. Yeah, Alpha Ronan. Yeah.

My body goes limp. My breath seizes. My hips tense, then sag.

I exhale loudly.

My eyes widen. I cuss under my breath.

“Fuck. What the hell?”

Did I just scream out? Moan loudly for anyone to hear?

Fuck. What have I done?

I reach down and drag my shorts up. I quickly secure them over my hips and adjust my top.

I hope no one hears. I so fucking hope no one’s there.

I shift my feet steadily, carefully, and turn the doorknob. The door squeaks lightly. I peek through the small space.

The hallway is empty.

My shoulders drop in relief. I open the door further and look again, still no one.

Thank the gods.

I move away from the door to close it, but the door opposite the one I’m holding, the door that leads into the bar, squeals.

My head snaps up. My chest tightens.

Slowly. Calculated.

It opens, and I inhale sharply.

My eyes bore into the darkest gray eyes I’ve ever seen on one person.

My lips part. My feet stay rooted.

His eyes trail over my body, gliding down my hardened nipples, my tense thighs, stopping between my parted legs.

His eyes remain unmoving, glued between my thighs. Then he glances up, his eyes swallowing me whole, his nose flaring.

He knows. He smells it, just as I wanted.

But he turns around and leaves.

No words. No shift in his expression.

He leaves me standing, knowing what I just did.

My whole body is on fire.

My skin feels like it’s scalding in hot air.

I need to touch myself again. I can’t stop this madness. I can’t.

I stagger back inside the storeroom and slam the door shut. My legs tremble beneath me and I collapse to my knees. My bones hit the tiled floor, but I don’t care.

I’m doomed to hell.

There’s no saving me anymore.