Page 31 of His Bride

He grabs my pussy and shoves his cum-covered fingers deep inside me. I explode instantly.

Pleasure rips through me, and I cry out, quivering, shaking, moaning, spiraling into a delirium of ecstasy.

It’s almost too much. I can feel it tear through my bones, deep into the marrow.

I’m a mess.

A crying, trembling, maelstrom of an orgasming mess.

I’m not even down from the high yet when he pulls his fingers out, then leans close to my ear. “I knew you wanted me, watching me like it was your own private sex show. But, baby, you gotta understand one thing.”

“And what’s that?” I try and fail to sound disdainful. Instead, it comes out breathless.

“We both know you can’t say no to me. I own you. But wanna know the real kicker?”

My heart stutters.

“It seems like you own me, too. And you have no idea how much that pisses me off.”

He pulls his hand away, then tucks his cock in his pants, zips up, attempts to do up the belt, and fails. Then he gets to his feet, does a mocking bow, and staggers out of my room, slamming the door.

A half sob escapes, but I grit my teeth and curl up on the floor, grabbing one of the pillows and drawing it in.

I wanted this.

I wanted him, no matter what.

I wanted to come. I wanted to chase the tail of the stone-melting desire we create.

The room smells of him now. Of sex and desire, and dark, erotic secrets. And it is intoxicating, a wicked, sinful balm on the deep scars of my soul.

I remain there on the floor, wallowing in the lingering scent of his skin, his sweat, and his cum. The echoes of his gruff voice whispering obscenities in my ear reverberate through the silence.

I fought it. Yet, in the end, he gave me what I wanted.

Release.

Even through all the wrongs, I still liked it. But now, what I want more than anything in this entire world is for him to take me in his arms, whisper dirty words…and fuck me. Fuck this sin right out of me. The filth and the wicked.

I wanted to fight him and rub on him or have him eat me while I protested, and I came.

There’s something wrong with me.

I know there is, and I’m glad no one sees me as I reach down between my legs and scoop the wetness up with my finger—his cum mixed with mine, and then…

Then I suck it off my fingers like the pathetic, twisted creature I’ve become.

Chapter 8

CAELIAN

My head pounds like a thousand dumbass demons are holding some kind of thrash-slash-EDM music festival in my brain, and someone forgot to hand me happy pills.

And my tongue…I don’t want to talk about my tongue.

I’m building up strength to pick up my coffee and drink it.

I’m thinking of adding hair of the dog to the coffee, or just skipping the coffee and heading to the bottle.

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