Page 39 of Corrupted Heart

But using that word is the last thing on my mind.

Because I don’t want him to stop.

I haven’t gone as far as I can go yet.

“Now, prinkípissa,” he rasps. “Let’s see how messy your little cunt got being chased like a dirty whore.”

Without warning, he cups my pussy. I choke on a moan, my breath hitching as he drags a thick finger through my lips. His palm suddenly slaps my ass, hard, making me jolt and squeal. He does it again, then again to the other cheek, then back to the first again. He goes back and forth until my ass is stinging and raw and my whines of pleasure are echoing off the walls of the gothic church.

Suddenly, I feel a finger at my entrance.

No, not a finger.

Fingers.

“I—”

My entire body shudders and writhes as he rams two thick fingers deep inside me. Deeper than anything I’ve ever had there. The sheer size of those fingers takes my breath away, and I can feel my feet twisting and scrabbling against the ground as he roughly curls them.

My walls clench around him. My core spasms and quivers as he slides them out and then pounds them right back in.

Wetly.

I’m not just wet, I’m fucking soaked.

The mortifyingly slick, squelching sounds of my pussy fill my ears as the masked stranger roughly fingerfucks me. I cry out when he tugs my hair, or pinches my nipples. He slaps my ass again, hard, as he mauls my aching pussy.

Words fail me. My thoughts are a blur of dark need and haunting desire. All I can do is twist and writhe on the ground, moaning and choking on my breath as he manhandles me and roughly shoves me inexorably toward my breaking point.

His thumb flicks back and forth across my throbbing clit. His two fingers ram into me over and over, curling so deep my shoes fall off when my toes curl against the grimy stone floor.

“Such. A needy. Little. Slut,” he growls, chuckling darkly as he fingers me into oblivion. “Meeting up with a complete stranger and letting him use your slutty little hole on the floor, like the greedy little cum whore you are.”

I gasp sharply when I feel his thumb slip between my cheeks and press against my asshole.

“I bet you’d even beg me to fuck your ass right here and now if it’d mean I’d let you come. You’d let me have you right here on the floor like a whore, fucking your ass raw until you’d taken every fucking drop of my cum, wouldn’t you…slut.”

Something explodes in my core. My eyes squeeze shut as my mouth falls open in a silent scream.

“I know you’re a virgin, babygirl,” he growls low in my ear as the wave builds higher and higher. “Don’t insult me by denying it. I can fucking smell it on you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like it if I used my big, fat cock to split this little cunt open right here for the first time. If I were to make you bleed on my cock as I took you for the first time. I’d tear you apart, babygirl. I’d fucking ruin you for any other man. And you’d fucking thank me for it afterward.”

Something snaps inside me. My tether to reality. My attachment to the real world.

My last grip on my sanity.

I’ve always known I wanted the primal and the brutal. To be chased and caught. To be tied up, or pinned down and used.

But I never knew I had this in me until he started talking like this.

The utter submission. The desire to lose all control and hand it over to him, willingly and eagerly. Because right now, he’s right. If he were to ask—not even ask, if he were to tell me—that he was going to fuck me right here and now, and take my virginity on the dark, grimy floor of this abandoned church?

I’d not just let him.

I’d beg him to.

“Come on. Thank me, babygirl.”

A moan rips from my throat.

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