Thirsty Mga Nobela at Kwento

He shushes me as he kisses my lips, soothing the whimpers as he slowly fingers me. "'m so needy... please... it feels hot..." My eyes squinted as I begged for him, making me feel drunk and intoxicated as I garbled on my words from the strong progressive effect of the pills. "You need me so badly? Just how greedy are you, baby? Can't get enough from five men? Now you're rubbing yourself up to me?" Zacharias clicks his tongue, resisting the urge to admit how much he enjoys seeing me all cling and rub to him, the way my hips buck forward to his fingers, the way my hips move in a circular motion to feel him more, it's all so alluring and enticing.

I shout as his warm hand comes in contact with my throbbing centre, impatiently awaiting his touch. "And you went to a psychiatrist because..." He trails off, finally giving me what I want and rubbing his talented fingers against my püssy. I moan and close my eyes as I take everything he is giving, throwing my head back, I bite my lip painfully, my face transforming into that of immense satisfaction as he stares lustfully into my eyes.

"I just... Fuck. I can't even think about you touching someone else without this surge. It's intense. It's not even about sex. I just want to get it in you. In some way. In every way." Quill blinked. "That sounded like a threat." Hawk nodded slowly. "It is a threat. I've never wanted anything this badly, and it's not even about getting off. I want to finish something. Like, legacy shit. I can feel it." Quill shifted uncomfortably. Lily reappeared from the side hallway with a damp rag in her hand and an expression that said she'd heard most of that. "You want to explain what that means?" They both turned.

She went to the bedside table and picked up the glass of water, and when she pressed the cold glass rim against her parched, cracked lips, she felt even thirstier. She savored a drop of water that traced its way into her mouth. Thick saliva streaked the inside of her mouth, instantly sapping any moisture that may have entered. Yet her thirst wasn't quenched. The feeling of needing to drink something more was normally just her brain's way of warning her that she'd been dehydrated. It was a burn that didn't go away but instead grew stronger than ever. How could she still be so thirsty after a glass of water? Somehow, it felt like she wanted more.

I whimper, sounding so faint. The desire is devouring me. I can't even maintain a steady breathing, and my nipples are almost tearing my bra with their hardness. My pant is all soaking wet, and my thighs are tightly clenched together to soothe the savage throbs of my pot of honey. I'm suffocating in lust and I can't suppress this craving anymore. They need to be tended to. This thirst that's cracking my throat needs to be assuaged. "Well? Stop ogling me and just... Please?" I murmur.

The blood that flows in our veins is just blood, your life essence. The girl that visited me has been dead for two years and she’s angry. She wants revenge on those who wronged her. She wanted me to kill them and in the end I almost did. Am I the bad person here for wanting to do it? I don’t think so. I smiled when I saw them die. The smell of their blood was invigorating and it gave me hope that there were still people in this world willing to step up and do what must be done.

I slip my hand under his tee shirt and tense up slightly, feeling his muscles under my fingers. The desire that I feel burns in my veins, my breath accelerates. I'm hypersensitive to his touch: my head is spinning, my body is ablaze... I'm going to burn up on the spot if this carries on. His breath brushes against my cheek. He's staring at my lips then his eye catches mine.

I sighed. As I sat at the dining table, the salty taste of tears still lingering on my lips, feeling drained and sad, I suddenly felt really thirsty. Slowly, I got up and walked to the kitchen, feeling heavy and tired. I just wanted a glass of water to soothe my parched throat. Slowly, I made my way to the kitchen, my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

“Water…let me get you water.” “No,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I'm not just thirsty for water. I'm thirsty for you, and if I don't have you, it's like I'm going to lose my sanity. It's driving me crazy.” He sounded frustrated, like a man fighting a losing battle against his own body's urges. For how long can he hold up?

The second his footsteps faded, Davies whispered against my ear, voice rough with lust: “Good Sophyyyyy, now we’re just getting popped up.”