Temptation

Vulvan's pov.

woman here was driving me crazy. Every time we hit a speed bump, she would bounce—her hips pressing hard against my growing bulge. Her breasts were nearly spilling out of her dress, right there in full display, and I couldn’t bring myself to look away. I loved the view. The car had an inbuilt divider separating the driver from the back seat. I wouldn’t want another man staring at what was mine.

The car came to a halt, finally indicating we were home. I took off my suit jacket and used it to cover her exposed chest. It took a bit of effort to adjust it right to make sure she was decently covered before we stepped out.

“Hold on tight,” I told her as I placed my hand on her tummy. She let out a painful groan, but it wasn’t too loud. I didn’t think much of it—maybe she was exaggerating. Drunk people do that a lot.

As soon as we entered, we were met by Dax. He had a smirk on his face.

“Oh hey Dax!” she screamed, loud and clear—right into my ear. I turned to glare at her. Why the hell was she so happy to see him?

I dropped her down.

“Seems you two had quite the adventure,” Dax said, his eyes flicking from Zara to me, taking in her condition and the exhaustion clearly written on my face. Dealing with her drunken state had been a handful.

“She drank too much than she can handle” I muttered. “How’s Mika? Is she okay now?”

Zara, on the other hand, was now ruffling my hair like I was some pet, then hugging me tightly, as if trying to crush me with the force of her embrace.

“She’s sleeping now. Turns out to be food poisoning, but she's fine now.” Dax said. He smiled a bit, which was unusual for him.

I nodded, turning my attention back to Zara—who was now, to my horror, unbuttoning my shirt.

I quickly grabbed her hands, picked her up again, and headed straight to my room.

“Bye Daxy man,” she called out, waving over my shoulder. Dax said something back, but I didn’t hear it. He chuckled, though. What the hell is up with everyone today?

I gently placed her on the bed and turned to grab one of my shirts from the closet. She’d need something to wear after I gave her a bath.

I called out for Erica and told her to bring lemon juice—something to help Zara sober up a bit. Judging by how she was acting, this was clearly her first time being drunk. She was going to hate the aftermath tomorrow.

I turned back after picking out a soft shirt she could wear. She was lying on the bed, whispering to herself. Her dress had now completely slipped down, fully revealing her firm, beautiful breasts—for my eyes only.

This was a serious test of my self-control. Every inch of her body tempted me, screamed at me to touch, to take. I knew what I wanted to do to her. What I could do to her. But I had to pull back.

I focused on her face. “Zara, let’s go take a shower,” I said, moving to pull her dress down the rest of the way.

“No!” she slapped my hand away. “I can’t swim. And there are sharks in the water,” she pouted, childishly.

“What?!” This was not going to be as easy as I’d thought.

“Zara, you need to shower. It’ll help you come down from your high,” I explained calmly, but she moved away, catching on to my intentions.

I tried to catch her, but she dodged.

“Zara, I don’t have time for games,” I warned.

She clumsily ran to the other side of the bed. “Can’t you listen? Huh? Are you deaf?! I don’t like swimming ‘cause I don’t know how to. Do you want me to drown? What type of human are you?”

I stood still, watching her rant like a child trying to explain something to an adult. Not in my entire 24 years had anyone ever dared speak to me like that. But she did—without hesitation, without fear.

“Keep it up,” I said darkly. “Keep adding to your punishment, so that when it’s time for me to ruin you, I won’t stop—because you’ve already given me more than enough reasons.”

She wasn’t paying attention to what I was saying. She didn’t even realize I was closer than she thought.

The second she realized, she tried to push past me and escape. I was quicker.

I grabbed her, but she stepped on my toes. I lost balance—so did she. We both fell onto the bed.

I began to undress her, and she laughed, trying to push me off. But I overpowered her easily.

Piece by piece, I removed everything except her panties. Her hair had now fallen over her face in a mess of curls, and I pinned her hands above her head. With my other hand, I gently brushed the strands of hair away from her face.

I stared into her eyes—deep blue, like the ocean. Those eyes could destroy me in seconds if I let them.

“Are you going to punish me?” she asked, her breath shaky and uneven.

I placed a finger slowly along her collarbone and traced demanding and teasing. “Yes,” I said, stopping at the edge of her lacy underwear. “Real hard.”

“How hard?” she whispered. Her curiosity was maddening. She should have stopped there, but she didn’t. She kept pushing, kept testing me.

How could I tell her that I wanted to fuck her so bad, I was starting to lose control?

I had been this close to tearing off her panties. To slamming into her and pouring all my frustration out—reminding her exactly who was in control. But I couldn’t. Not like this. Not when she was drunk and wouldn’t remember any of it.

I’d rather wait. Do it properly. Let her feel everything when she’s fully aware.

“If you keep asking me questions like that,” I said, voice low, “we won’t be leaving this bed anytime soon. Because I’ll have to show you how hard.”

Her breath hitched. Her body shifted as if acting on its own. Her lust matched mine, even in her drunken state. She wanted me just as badly. But she wasn’t ready.

And that was exactly where I wanted her.

I wanted her to crave me. To feel the frustration of knowing she couldn’t touch me—just like I couldn’t touch her.

Fast forward.

We came out of the bedroom after taking a shower. The tension between us still lingered thick in the air. Even with her being drunk, she acted like she didn’t know what she wanted. But deep down, a part of her was still there—fighting not to lose herself completely.

I helped dry her hair, then helped her into one of my shirts. Erica had already brought the lemon juice. I handed it to her.

She took a sip and immediately soured her face at the taste. I couldn’t help but smile at her reaction.

After that, she lay down on the bed. I did too. I pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her.

Not long after, I heard her soft snores. She was fast asleep.

I held her tightly, not wanting to let go. I closed my eyes, taking in her warmth, her scent, her presence.

And then everything went dark.