Breed Me, Daddy Alpha-Chapter 7.

I should’ve been satisfied. But guess what? I wasn’t.

My body should’ve collapsed and stayed down, twitching in post-orgasm haze, fucked out by my own pathetic little hands. But it wasn’t enough. Fuck, it wasn’t even close. Because the second I stopped moving, the second my hips stilled and the sheets stuck to my thighs, that ache came crawling right back.

Like my pussy was mocking me.

Like it knew those fingers weren’t his.

And they never would be.

I rolled onto my back with a sob. Not from sadness. From need. My chest was rising and falling too fast, my skin damp with sweat. My clit throbbed so hard I thought I might scream again just from air touching it.

I looked down.

My pussy was glossed.. The lips slick and red from friction, twitching with every heartbeat. My folds glistened. My entrance fluttered like it was waiting to be filled. Begging.

I spread my legs wider and stared at it.

My cunt.

Dripping.

Used.

And still fucking starving.

My fingers hovered there for a second. Shaky. Barely able to move. And then I dipped two of them back into the slick.

Warm.

Wet.

Fucking soaking.

I whimpered.

I couldn’t help it.

The moment I touched myself again, my head fell back against the pillow, and I let out the filthiest, rawest sound that had ever left my throat. My toes curled. My eyes fluttered. My lips parted in a moan that was barely human.

"Oh..fuck..."

I didn’t even go slow this time.

I shoved them in.

Hard.

Two fingers deep inside my soaked pussy, curling fast, searching for that spot, that sacred place inside me that only lit up when I thought about him.

And I was thinking about him.

So hard it hurt.

I imagined him standing at the doorway.

Arms crossed. Shirtless. His cock already hard. Thick. Heavy. Veins running like rivers down the shaft. His eyes locked on mine, full of fire and hunger and punishment. I imagined him saying it. Low. Cold. Cruel.

"Didn’t I tell you not to touch what’s mine?"

I gasped.

I fucked my fingers deeper.

"Yours," I whispered, voice cracked and soaked in filth. "I’m yours..."

My other hand flew to my clit.

I started rubbing it fast. Relentless. No rhythm. Just desperation. I needed it. Needed to cum again. Harder. More. I needed it to hurt. To burn. I needed it to feel like I was being fucked open by him.

My back arched.

My belly clenched.

And I couldn’t stop.

The squelching noises were obscene. Sticky. Loud. The air reeked of sex and slick and sweat. My thighs slapped against the sheets. My hips rolled. I was a mess. A needy, dripping, crying slut of a mess.

"Please...Alpha...please..."

I moaned into the room like a fucking offering.

My fingers curled again. My pussy squeezed around them like it was trying to keep them in. But they weren’t enough. They were too thin. Too short. Too human. And I needed a monster. I needed that thick cock I’d felt pressing into my stomach, so fucking high up it made me think he could fuck my soul out of my body.

My thighs started to shake.

My breath came out in short, sharp pants. My nipples were rock hard, tight points brushing the air with every movement. My free hand grabbed one, twisted, pulled until pain lit up my chest and pleasure shot straight to my clit.

"Oh fuck..oh fuck..please..."

I was losing it. It felt like my mind had gone to another dimension because fuck I was gone.

And still, I imagined him.

Not touching me.

Not fucking me.

Just watching.

Arms folded.

Cock out.

Smirking.

Watching me fall apart like the filthy, desperate little slut I was.

His voice echoed in my head...

"That pussy’s loud, baby. She screams for me before I even touch her."

I screamed.

Loud.

So loud it cracked the air.

The orgasm ripped through me like lightning.

My legs clamped shut around my hand. My pussy clenched and fluttered. I could feel it..spasming, gushing, coating my fingers in another wave of wet heat that made a mess of my thighs, my robe, the bed beneath me.

My hips wouldn’t stop jerking. My body writhed, trying to ride out every last pulse of that pleasure. I was choking on it. Drowning in it. Gasping for air between whimpers.

And still...

Still...

It wasn’t enough.

Because it wasn’t him.

Not his voice.

Not his hands.

Not his cock.

I let my fingers slip out of me.

Slow.

Sticky.

They glistened in the low light, slick smeared to the knuckles, soaked in every bit of proof that I was fucking ruined.

And I whispered to the ceiling like a confession:

"I need you, Alpha."

My hand fell limp beside me.

My chest rose and fell like I was dying.

And maybe I was.

Because I didn’t know how many more times I could cum before something broke inside me.

And I wanted him to be the one who broke it.

My breath went up and down, chest rising in uneven waves as I stared at the ceiling like it held the answers to every filthy, shameful thing I’d just done.

Fuck.

I just gave myself a mind-blowing orgasm..three, actually..and I didn’t even feel guilty about it.

Not even a little.

If anything, I felt... high.

I rolled over with a groan, legs sticking together from the mess between them. My pussy still twitched. Still clenched like it didn’t believe it was over. I could feel my slick cooling on the inside of my thighs, tacky and hot and humiliating. I needed to clean up. To sleep. To forget.

But I knew sleep wouldn’t come.

It never did.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and blinked at the screen.

2:08 AM. Fuck.