🧪G R E E N L O V E [peter steele] 🧪

S. O. S. 🧪 (PART III)

-Ugh, fuck it!

I strained the heavy, perfumed white covers off of me and sighed aloud in pure frustration. Jesus, what the Hell is happening to me?

Ever since I stopped crying, and believe me, it was a good cry, I was feeling really intense thing in between my thighs. It was hot, tingly and sort of... pulsating? Wait, can my gentle part have a pulse on its own?

Oh well, who cares.
With or without it, it was making my heart beat faster for some reason.

Although, is this the position where you're supposed to rock your bed solo, in? I can do that, right? I mean, I definitely am not an angel. I just, you know, get a little bit embarrassed when it comes down to the stuff.

Then again, what's the worst thing that could happen? I was alone, that's the most important requirement.

Cold-headed and determined now, I unbuttoned my high-waisted jeans and slid them down my long, slim legs. I clung onto the hem of my turtleneck and pulled it over my head in one move, leaving myself in only black underwear and a B cup lacy bra.

Since I was right handed and already enough frustrated, I wanted this to be quick and successful. Therefore, no way that I'd be doing it with my left hand.
With a little bit of effort, I managed to take the bandaid off, as well as the gauze and plaster, without turning the lights on.

I sighed. Deeply and shakily.
With my right hand brushing over my breasts covered in lace, going lower down my stomach and then over the bridge of my hip, I teased myself a little with slightly scratching my inner thighs with my long, sharp nails. The heartbeat of mine intensified, going slower but blood pounding really heavy inside of my narrowed arteries. I was biting down on my bottom lip and kept my eyes closed, replaying the pictures in my head like a film.

Peter's height, then his muscles, defined shoulders and back. His sharp canines and waist-long jet black hair. The depth of his emerald, mesmerising green eyes. Pale, long fingers of his that took care of me so good.

I began to rock my hips against the bed's mattress, still circling my middle finger across my sensitive clitoris that was secured under the soaked fabric of my underwear. Remembering the night when he took care of me aroused me to the point where I was breathing out of rhythm, releasing out muffed moans so that no one could hear me.

Don't. Just try one more time to get up before I tell you. Trust me, it won't end up good.

Oh, God. I wanted so much more than just to kneel in front of him. I wanted to do whatever he pleases. In this state.
In this... Ecstasy. I was willing and wanting to be completely surrendered to him. Even owned.

Hot, burning wave was splashing over me then soaking into my blistering skin, just to erupt out of me all over again. Like a volcano.
I continued grinding my hips in a rhythm I found comforting, my fingers never ending the circle over my clitoris. It was a fast, lustful pace and it was nearing me to the climax in a dizzy speed.

Corazon, you're filled with frustration. Mostly sexual.

-Screw you.

I replied to the sentence that popped up again in my own head, half-groaning and half-sighing, meanwhile turning around and rocking my hips above my middle finger, resting upon my stomach. My moans only grew louder, making me dig my head deep into the pillows and bite down good on them.

There was a scene playing in my mind that made me feel the kinkiest and most aroused, than I have ever felt before. I imagined that I was on top of Peter's enormous body, rocking over his giant member as he was mercilessly sucking on the hot, burning skin of my collars.
His hands were dug deeply into my hair, tugging at it harshly whenever I'd stop to catch up on breath. I was desperately chained up to the giant hooks on the wall by my wrists, feeling the metal burning and going deep into my thin, soft flesh.