b/bMidnight Combo

bMidnight /bbC/bb*/bmis

~Lyra~

bI /bdidn’t even make it to the bed.

bI /bbarely got the door closed.

I stumbled inside my room like my legs didn’t belong to me, like I wasn’t human anymore, just some sick, soaked thing possessed by the scent of him. Of Damon. iOf /iAlpha. His sweat. His skin. His bc/b**k.

f**k.

My back hit the door with a thud.

I just stood there. Shaking. Breathing like I’d just run miles barefoot through snow. My hands were btrembling/b. My cunt was throbbing. My panties stuck to me like wet silk, soaked straight through, clinging bto /bthe blips /bbof /bmy p***y like they were trying to keep the heat inside.

But it was useless.

I was dripping.

So fb*****/bg wet it felt wrong.

I peeled the robe off my skin in one slow, breathless motion. My nb*****/bs were hard, stiff like diamonds, brushing the air, brushing my hair. Every movement made me whimper.

The cool air kissed my chest.

But my skin was burning.

I was fire. me. fb*****/bg need.

My thighs rubbed together as I walked to the edge of the bed. I could feel it. The slick sliding down the inside

of my legs, sticky and warm. I didn’t even want to check. I knew it was messy. Knew I was soaked from the look in his eyes when he said…

“You think you can take me? That sweet little virgin cunt of yours wouldn’t survive a bf/bb*****/bg inch.”

My knees buckled.

dropped onto the bed with a moan. My fingers curled into the sheets. I pressed my thighs together, bgrinding/b, desperate, trying to find pressure but there was nothing.

Nothing but hunger.

My chest heaved.

My p***y clenched.

I bspread /bmy legs slowly. Shame burned bacross /bmy cheeks, but I didn’t stop. I bcouldn’t/b. bMy /bbfingers /bbslid /bbdown /bbmy /bstomach, shaking like bI /bwas about to do bsomething /bsinful.

bBecause /bI was,

I wasn’t just thinking biof /i/bhim.

Midnight Cambo

I was babout /bto f**k myself to the thought of bmy /bbest friend’s father.

Alpha Damon.

My fingers slipped into the waistband of my panties. They were soaked. Soaked. The fabric clung bto /bbthe /bfolds bof /bmy cunt, sticking between the lips like they wanted to hide how filthy I was. But there was no bhiding /bbit/b. No pretending.

I was soaked because of him.

Because of the way he looked at me like he wanted to tear me apart.

Because of the way he said he’d destroy me.

I pushed the fabric aside.

Flesh met air.

And I gasped.

The slick was everywhere. My inner lips were swollen, flushed, desperate. My clit pulsed so hard it hurt. My fingers brushed it once and I jerked, my head falling back, a whimper escaping my lips.

I didn’t mean to say his name.

But I did.

“D–Damon…

”

My fingers circled my clit, slow. Gentle. Testing. But even that was too much. It felt like I was touching a raw nerve, like every bit of blood in my body had gathered there. I moaned.

Low. Needy. Embarrassing.

I imagined his fingers instead.

Rough. Big. Hot.

I imagined him pinning my hands to the mattres’s, smirking while I writhed, begging him not to stop.

I moaned again. Louder this time.

My hips started to rock.

bI /bslid two fingers lower, spreading my folds, feeling the heat trapped between them. I was drenched. The bslick /bcoated everything. I dragged it back up to my clit, rubbing circles that weren’t soft anymore.

Faster.

Harder.

b“/bbf/b**k,” I gasped, teeth sinking into my lip.

bI /bclosed my eyes.

And saw him.

Towering over me. Naked. Veins popping. bc/bb**/bk so massive it looked dangerous. bThat /bbcruel /bbsmirk /bbon /bbhis /bbface /b

as he told me…

“I don’t bf/b**k little girls like you. I destroy them.”

Midnight Cem

I shoved two fingers inside my p***y.

bI /bcried out.

I imagined his c**k instead.

Thick.

Veiny.

Ruthless.

I pumped my fingers harder. Faster. The slick sounds filled the room. Squish. Squish. Squish. My thighs trembled. My other hand wed at my breast, squeezing, twisting my n****e till I whimpered.

“I’m so f*****g empty,” I moaned. “Please…”

There was no one there.

But I begged anyway.

“Please, Alpha… f**k me. I need it. Need you to break me..make me scream..make me c*m…”

My fingers curled inside.

I found that spot. The g spot. My cb******/bbs /b

And f**k…

“Ah..!”

My back bowed. My clit pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own. I rubbed harder, grinding down, bf/bb*****/bg myself, moaning his name over and over like a slut who didn’t care anymore.

“Damon… Damon… bf/b**k, Damon…”

The orgasm crashed through me like a goddamn storm. My legs locked. My stomach caved. My p***y clenched so hard around my fingers it felt like it was trying to break them. My mouth dropped open but no sound came out at first. Just air. Just heat.

Then..

“Ahhh…fuck…yes…Alpha…yes..”

+ Prints b2 /b

I cried as I came f*****g hards, so f*****g hard thst my lips trembled as I felt the I knees slips out of imy /ipb***/bby/b. Oh f**k. It came out violently like a rush.

My cunt gushed. My thighs twitched. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I tasted the salt on my lips.

I copsed.

Breathless.

Ruined.

Still empty.

Still starving.

Because no matter how deep my fingers went…

They weren’t him.

Midnight Cm

And they never would be.

They never would be.

E Points

Because no matter how fast I moved,

how deep I shoved, how tight my walls clenched, they were still mine. My fingersb, /bwhich wet just softb, /bsmall and weak and I didn’t want small and soft. f**k. I wanted to be split. I wanted to be stuffed. I wanted to be

*****d so deeply that I forgot my name.

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

My body should’ve copsed and stayed down, twitching in post–orgasm haze, f****d out by my own pathetic little hands. But it wasn’t enough. f**k, 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 p***y 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 p***y 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 f*****g 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.

bf/bb*****/bg 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.

Midnight Com

I shoved them in.

Hard.

PORTS ?

Two fingers deep inside my soaked p***y, curling fastb, /bsearching for that spot, that sacred ce 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 c**k 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. Lowi. /iiCold/i. Cruel.

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

I gasped.

bI /bf****d 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 c*m again. Harder. More. I needed it to hurt. To burn. I needed it to feel like I was being fb****/bd open by him.