Lyras Hunger 19

~~Lyra~~

My eyes fluttered shut.

And it wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t innocent.

It felt like copse. Like my body had short–circuited under the pressure of his presence.

Like my mind couldn’t bear the heat that surged through me the second his fingers brushed the top of my

chest.

Everything in me clenched.

My p***y.

My stomach.

My throat.

It was like all my nerves had been rewired just for him.

To feel him.

To want him.

To f*****g need him like oxygen I hadn’t earned.

I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until my lips parted and it shuddered out of me like a moan I was

too scared to let escape.

Because I wasn’t just standing there anymore.

I was unraveling.

My robe was already loose, gaping, barely covering anything. My n*****s were hard..aching points beneath the silk. My skin felt too tight. My core pulsed so violently it was like a second heartbeat between my legs.

And I could feel a thread of wetness sliding down the inside of my thighs again.

Fresh.

Hot.

Soaking me.

I thought I was empty.

After everything earlier.

After the orgasms. The crying. The drinking.

But no.

He was here now.

And with just a few words and the heat of his breath on my skin, he made my entire body start over.

|||

O

1.7

fyras Hunger

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, voice like gravel. Like sin. “Your skin… bf/b**k. I remember when you were bjust /bba /bkid. t little chest. Always hiding behind books and oversized shirts like some shy little thing.”

I didn’t move.

I couldn’t.

I was frozen with my back to him, my hands gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing

keeping me upright. My thighs pressed together, squeezing my swollen clit, and I nearly groaned from how sensitive I already was.

His voice dropped lower.

But the words got filthier. Darker I must say.

“But now?” he breathed. “Now look at you.”

His fingers moved down again.

So slow.

So agonizing.

They stopped right on my titties. f**k!! fb*****/bg suck them daddy!!!

Not squeezing.

Not groping. Just resting.

Like he was teasing both of us.

Like he wanted to see if I’d beg.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to sob from the restraint.

Because all I could think was…

Please.

Please squeeze and suck my n*****s.

“They’re heavy now,” he said softly, like he was in awe. “So f*****g full. Straining against this thin little robe. I

can see them bouncing every time you breathe. You feel it, don’t you? The ache?”

I nodded. Weakly. Shamefully.

“I bet they get sore when you’re turned on,i” /ihe whispered. “Don’t they?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

My voice wasn’t even mine.

It was wrecked.

It was soaked in desperation.

And when I felt the tip of his finger stroke the edge of my breast..barely a graze..I almost came right then and

there.

“f**k,” he groaned under his breath. “They’re so bf/bb*****/bg soft. I’d bury my face in them and suck until you cry.

Lyras Hunger

Until you beg me to stop.”

I whimpered.

Out loud this time..

I didn’t care.

I couldn’t care.

“I bet they’re sensitive too,” he continued, voice curling like smoke around my spine. “Bet if someone bit down

right here..”

His finger slid to my n****e beneath what I wore, the lightest tap.

“..you’d scream, wouldn’t you?”

I nodded again.

Tears burned behind my eyes.

Not from sadness.

From need.

He leaned in.

I felt his breath on my throat.

“iYou /ilet someone do that to you this summer?” he asked darkly. “You let some punk teenager suck on what

doesn’t belong to him?”

“No,” I whispered. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

He paused.

I could feel him stilling behind me.

“Hm,” he murmured.

“Hmmm. Is that so?”

That sound..God, that sound..slithered down my spine like oil. It was low. Deep. Almost like he was tasting

me without using his mouth.

Like he already knew exactly what was running between my thighs and wanted to make it worse.

I squeezed the counter. My knuckles ached. My fingers dug into the cold marble like it was the only thing

keeping me tethered to the world. My body had stopped being mine the second he walked in.

I could feel him behind me. Not touching.

But close.

Too close.

The kind of close that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

The kind of close that made my stomach flip and the heat between my legs pulse.

“You really think I’m going to touch you?”

|||

O

Lyras Hunger

I didn’t move.

Couldn’t speak.

My throat was dry. My mouth open.

Because I had thought he would.

Because my cunt was wet and begging for it.

Because I’de down here not just for the drink.

But for this. For him. For something..anything.

And he knew it.

He f*****g knew.

“I’m not going to,” he said, stepping closer..not to touch me, just to make sure I felt it. “I’m not touching you, Lyra.”

The sound of my name on his tongue sent a violent shiver down my back.

He said it like it didn’t belong to me.

Like it was his already.

“You’ve got all these dirty little fantasies in your headi,” /ihe murmured, his voice sliding over my skin like heat, “and you need to get rid of them. Now.”

I shut my eyes tight.

No. No, I can’t.

Because the fantasies were all I had.

They kept me awake at night, kept me shaking under the covers, kept my fingers moving between my thighs until I bit my own hand to stay quiet.

“You’re a little girl. Always been and always will be” he said.

“I watched you grow. I watched you go from some awkward brat with scabby knees and no bt/bb**/bs into…”

He paused.

And the silence between us cracked open something in me.

“…this.”

My breath hitched.

I didn’t dare turn around.

Because I knew what he was looking at.

My robe was loose. I could feel it clinging to the sweat along my ribs, the fabric catching the hard peaks iof /imy nb*****/bs like a second skin. My thighs were slick and parted. The back of the robe bare covered the curve of my ass.

I was trembling.

Open.

|||

O

L

bLyras /bHunger@%

Wetb. /b

bRipe/b.

bAnd /bhe wasn’t even touching me.

b“/bbI /bsaw you cry over stupid boys,” he said, circling behind me now. “Boys who bdidn’t /beven know bhow /bto make

you c*m. Boys who probably came in their pants just from kissing your neck.”

I clenched.

bf/b**k. My p***y actually clenched around nothing just from the way he said it.

“You stood there in the hallway earlier, didn’t you?” he said. “Watching Tasha bget /bbf****/bbd/b. be/bb. /b

I gasped. How did he know!

“You stood there in the dark,” he growled, “dripping. Salivating. Imagining it was you bent over bthe /bcounterb. /bHis voice was in my ear now. I could feel his breath hit the side of my face.

“Shocked? Yeah I can tell from your eyes that you are. Just so you know I have my eyes everywhere bbaby /bbgirl /b“I bet you touched yourself afterward,” he whispered. “I bet you shoved your fingers into byour /bbtight /bblittle /bcunt and whispered my name like a prayer.”

Tears pricked my eyes.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

I had whispered his name.

Over and over again.

Mouth open. Thighs soaked.

While my whole body begged for something I couldn’t even say out loud.

But now?

He was saying it for me.

i“/iAnd now you’re here,” he said. “Half naked. Dripping down your thighs. Soaked with want.”

I moaned. A real one this time.

He didn’t stop.

“You want me to pull this robe open,” he said. “To expose you. Touch you. Bite you. Ruin you.”

My breathing got ragged. My whole body vibrated with how badly I wanted it.

But he justughed.

“I’m not going to.”

The words ripped something in bme/b.

My mouth dropped open in protest..but nothing came out.

bI /bcouldn’t speak.

Couldn’t beg.

Lyras Hungers

b“/bbYou’re /bbnot /bbready/bb,/bb” /bhe said. b“/bbYou /bbthink /bbbecause /bbyou /bhave t** bnow/bb, /bbbecause /bbyour /bpay leaks for m? like e bb/bb***/bbh /bbin /bbheat/bb, /bbthat /bbyou /bcan handle a man like bme/bb?/bb” /b

I whimpered.

b“/bbYou /bbthink /bI’m bgoing /bto make love to you, Lyrab?/bb” /bhe said. “Whisper sweet things while I fill byou /bbup/b?

His voice turned colder.

“I won’tb./b”

He moved to the side, just enough so I could see the edge of his jaw, the muscles ticking bas he /bbstared /bbdown /b

bat /bmeb. /b

“You wouldn’t survive my c**k,” he said. “You’d cry the second I pushed in. You’d scream. You’d bbleed/b.

My legs gave a little. My knees nearly touched.

“But that’s what you want, isn’t bit/bb?/bb” /bhe growled. “You want to be broken. You want bDaddy /bbto /bbsplit /bbyou /bbopen /bband /bmark you.”

I choked back another moan. My body was screaming for it.

“And I will,” he whispered. “One day. But not tonight.”

He leaned close again, his lips brushing the shell of my ear

“Because tonight, I want you to suffer.”

He stepped back.

“I want you to crawl back upstairs with your cunt still throbbing. I want you to lie in bed and f**bk /bbyour /bfingers so deep you cry into the pillow.”

I was trembling so hard my teeth nearly chattered.

“I want you to dream about me,” he said. “And when you wake upb, /bsoaked and swollen and still hungry…”

He paused.

“I want you to remember I chose not to touch you.”

My legs gave out.

I caught myself on the counter again, barely holding it together.

He stepped back fully.

His heat was gone.

But the scent of him?

The sound of him?

The fb*****/bg ache he left inside me?

That was staying.

And then he said it..

“Go to bed, little girl. You can’t handle Daddy”

Lyras Hunger

“So any fantasy you have about me. f*****g erase them”

And he was gone.

Leaving me ruined.

And untouched.

~~

I scoffed. “Of course,” I whispered under my breath, my voice so low and full of hate I barely recognized it as my own. “Of f*****g course you left me like this.

b“/bbf/bb*****/bg bastard”

“I hate this,” I whispered. “I hate you. I hate that I’m like this. That I’m still wet. That I’d let you spit in my mouth if it meant you’d look at me for more than a f*****g second.”

“I should be ashamed,” I whispered. “I should be disgusted with myself.”

But I wasn’t.

I was f*****g hungry.

I curled forward and pressed my face to my knees as tears soaked my legs. My hands clenched in the fabric of my robe and I cried. Not from sadness. From need. From fb*****/bg madness.

Because I wanted him so bad I couldn’t think. Because I hated that he didn’t want me. Because I was sitting in his kitchen on my knees, drunk and soaked and whispering his name over and over again like it was a

curse and a prayer.

He did this.

He f*****g did this.

And I’d let him do it again.

Royalty Writes

#Vote# Hey y’all drop yourments on what you think about this. Let me know