𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍•ᵉ ʲᵃᵉᵍᵉʳ

42

𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟹𝟷𝚜𝚝

𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇. The thought consumes me, relentless, like a hunger I can't ignore. The way his skin stretches over his muscles, how it shivers when my lips brush against him—it's like a temptation I can't resist. I want to sink my teeth into him, leave marks that show how badly I need him. I want to feel his blood drip from my lips, warm and thick, staining me with his essence. It's not just a craving—it's an instinct, something primal deep inside me that wants to claim him, to mark him as mine.

I can't tear my eyes away from him. He's so close, so real, his heartbeat thumping in my ears as I press myself to him, feeling the heat of his skin under my fingertips. Every breath he takes is like a promise, a dangerous invitation that pulls me in further, until I'm drowning in the intensity of it. My hands ache to touch him, to trace the lines of his jaw, the curve of his neck, to feel the pulse beneath his skin as my teeth inch closer.

I want to taste him—not just his lips, not just the kiss, but everything—the fire in his veins, the life that hums beneath his skin. I want him to feel how badly I want him, how desperate I am to claim him in every way. The hunger inside me flares, and I feel the tension in my body coil tighter, waiting for the perfect moment to sink in. He doesn't know it, but I'm so close to losing control.

I feel like a dirty whore, my body consumed by an insatiable need that's impossible to ignore. The way my hands crave his skin, the desperate urgency in my movements—it all feels so wrong, but I can't stop. Every touch, every whispered word is pulling me further into this dark, uncontrollable desire, and I hate myself for it. I want him more than I should. I want to claim him, to take him in ways that make my heart race and my mind cloud over. The guilt that floods me only makes the craving stronger, twisting in my gut. But no matter how filthy I feel, no matter how much I want to back away from this primal hunger, I can't. It's like I'm addicted to the feeling, addicted to him, and the way he makes me forget everything but the heat between us.

"Why'd ya' stop?" I question, sitting up on my elbows and looking down at Eren. He's sitting in front of my open legs.

"Thought you were too tired to keep going." Eren shrugs, running a hand through his messy hair.

"I can take a lot more than lame pussy eating." I retort, flashing my teeth in a smile.

"Lame? The sounds you made said otherwise." He grins, his large hands begin running up and down my calf's.

"Mmm.. You can try harder than that." I reply, my brows arching in a challenging manor.

"I mean," Eren inches closer, his body moving in between my legs once more. "I could bend you over right here and show you who this pussy belongs to. Remind you that you're mine, all fuckin' mine."

A grin forms on my swollen lips. That's more like it. I nod, fully sitting and then converting myself to tucking my legs under my thighs.

"I'm all naked here and you haven't even taken off yer' pants yet." I roll my eyes before leaning forward, grabbing the waistband of Eren's sweatpants.

He snickers but lets me do all the work. I remove his sweatpants and his boxers. His cock springs free, he's hard, pre cum dribbling at the pink tip.