Page 76 of Devious Delusions

I shake my head, but he pulls on my arms. My shoulders burn and I try to sit up to elevate the pressure inside of me. I clench around his dick, and he pushes his head into the pillow while muting himself. He’s getting off on this game and I’m even sicker for doing the same.

The fear of being heard, of being caught, mixes with my lust and knowing that he has the same emotion makes me vengeful.I want him to fucking squirm, and I want him to hurt. So, I don’t look away from him as anger takes over and I do exactly what he wanted while slowly circling my hips.

“I love you, Asher.” I moan and begin to ride Ghost painstakingly slow. “I love your dick and how you always know exactly what I need.”

“That’s my dirty little wife. Keep going, baby,” he praises.

The mask on Ghost’s face tightens around his jaw and I push my weight down fully. There are going to be finger-shaped bruises on my hands if he doesn’t turn my bones to dust from how tightly he’s holding them, but I have the fucking power now.

“Asher, baby, you know what I really love?” I ask as I stop fighting and grind down. “I love when my husband fucks me with his big hard cock and makes this pussy his. Because that is what I am. Yours. No one else’s.”

Ghost’s rage thickens the air and I moan Asher’s name as I ride him. It fills me with power and builds my release. He lets go of one of my hands before he breaks it and slips his fingers between us. The anger is still on his face as he circles my clit and grabs my throat with the other hand, choking me so hard that I can’t even swallow.

The dressing crinkles as I dig my nails into his arm, directly against his fresh stitches, while Asher says, “Come for me.”

The evil prick below me smirks and mouths the same words as he pulses his hand around my throat and forces me to come. His fingers speed up on my clit and he thrusts up violently. I can only hold on to his forearm as blinding pleasure takes over. My ears ring and lights burst behind my eyes while Asher moans my name.

“Delilah, baby, fuck.”

Their voices mix together, but I’m not coherent enough to distinguish the words and they meld into the other. A beep brings the voices to an end, leaving only one that holds a threat.

“My turn.”

33

GHOST

The only way to stop Delilah’s echoing screams claiming she loves that motherfucker is by replacing them.

My hand tightens around her throat as I flip us over, causing her head to bounce against the mattress, and I push her back down as I fuck her, each thrust harder than the last. My sight has adjusted to the dark since she fucking forced me into it, and I can see her face turning red as her nails score against my arms.

“Can’t…breathe,” she chokes out.

I tighten my hold and push into her so that our hips are joined. I can feel her bones with how hard I’m pressing against her, but I don’t give a fuck. My fingers tighten around her neck as she gasps, trying to draw in air, and I add more weight onto her body.

“If I wanted you to fucking breathe, I’d let you.”

I can’t hear anything over the sound of my rage, and she weakly slaps against the mask covering my face. Her fingers are barely felt from how little energy she has. This is what she fucking does to me. Every single fucking time.

Her tears fall but they could drown the earth before they ever get close to dousing the anger inside of me. I fucking hate her. I detest every fucking part of her. Especially her cunt. It’s warm and fucking perfect just like my memory, and I loosen my hold on her throat as I grip the top of the headboard hitting the wall.

My knuckles slam against the plaster and she grabs my t-shirt as I watch her jolt from the force of my thrusts. Her lips part and before she can say something fucking vile, I spit down in a line.

“Keep it fucking shut or I’ll piss down your throat next.”

Does she listen? Fucking no.

She never fucking listens and she wraps her legs around me as she begs, “Kiss me.”

I laugh but it’s more of a scoff and I thrust into her harder. She shuffles up and her crown hits the headboard with a gasped moan.

“You can fucking take it,” I grit. “You’re a desperate little fucking whore only made as a place formeto drop my cum.”

My one weakness, my only weakness, is in front of me and she tilts her hips up as she clenches around me. I keep hold of the headboard with one hand and slap the tips of my fingers against the side of her tits. I clip her nipple and she sucks in a breath around her moan.

“Ghost, please.”

The sweet begging isn’t enough to entice me. All I need is for her to remember, to say my fucking name and ruin everything—ruin me again.

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