Page 53 of Malicious Wedding

A beast only hungry for my flesh.

“Come for me, angel,” he growls as he goes faster, sucking hard. “Come for me, little love, and when you’re through, I’ll fuck you like you need.”

“Who says I need anything?” I say, legs twitching, the orgasm building, building, toes curling down into the bed. I try to hold it back just to spite him, but I can’t help myself.

I come with his name on my lips. I come, moaning for him, and I know he loves it as he grunts his approval. When I’m finished, he rocks back onto his heels, stroking his cock, rubbing his length with my wetness.

“There you are, my wife,” he says, staring at my body in the darkness, looking like a creature from another world, like a celestial being. Pure and lovely. “I’ve waited a long, long time for this.”

“You keep telling me shit like that,” I say, writhing from side to side. “But what the heck—”

He silences me by grabbing my ankle and yanking me toward him. I gasp in surprise, but don’t have long to think, because the tip of his cock presses against my aching, soaking entrance, and he slides himself inside.

“Oh my god,” I groan as he stretches me, filling me to the brim.

His mouth finds mine. We kiss like that, hungry, my mind blank, totally lost in the moment. I’ve never felt anything remotely like this before, not a single time in my entire life. He fills me to the edge, bottoms out, and still I want more like there isn’t enough of him to sate my void. Slowly, his hips rock, then my hips glide along with him, and soon we’re fucking, grinding against each other in a hard, passionate frenzy. Lost to everything but feeling.

There are no words now. Only sensations. Pleasure, intense, toe-curling, spikes down the length of my body. His hands grip my hips, possessive, controlling. Like he knows what he wants.

“You feel so right,” he whispers, biting my shoulder. “That’s it, keep moving like that. Your tight little pussy was made for me, angel. Your body is mine to destroy, to rebuild, to destroy again. I want you gasping for air, begging me to keep going. I want you to lose your mind.”

“Sounds horrible,” I say, digging my fingernails into his back. “I prefer keeping my mind, thanks.”

“Say my name, angel.” He pushes me down, pinning my hands above my head, fucking me slow, too freaking slow.

I whimper, gyrating, trying to make him go faster, greedy for more. “Carson,” I say.

He shakes his head. “Not that name.”

“You have more names? Asshole. Pigheaded freak. Psychopath. Killer. Take your pick and fuck me.”

“Say my name, angel.”

I know what he wants.

I wish I could deny him.

But with his thick cock deep between my legs, the way he’s moving, hell, the way he’s looking at me, I can’t stop myself as the word bubbles out from between my lips.

“Husband,” I moan, throwing my head back.

Yep, that’s the one.

Carson starts fucking me again. He gives me what I want, still pinning my wrists above my head. His mouth sucks my nipples, bites them hard, teeth digging in. I gasp in pain and pleasure, my brain basically on autopilot at this point, everything short-circuiting, everything overloading with pleasure.

He doesn’t stop. He knows what he’s doing and he loves it. I’m his, all his, and he keeps fucking me deeper, whispering how much he loves my taste, how much he wants to dominate my flesh, until I can’t take it anymore.

I come in a flash of light followed by tunnel vision. My ears ring, but Carson’s not done with me yet, he keeps going. My legs wrap around his hips as he destroys me, and yes, he rebuilds me as he comes deep inside my body.

“Wife,” he groans, pulling me into his chest. “My wife, my wife.” He whispers, smelling my hair like an absolute freak. I like it, but god, what a maniac.

“I never pictured you as the affectionate type.”

“Only after I’ve finished inside your pussy.”

“Oh, what a gentleman.” I smile to myself, holding him tighter. The big man’s breaths are like the lungs of a whale. “Are you always like this?”

“Not at all,” he says, brushing my sweat-damp hair aside. “You bring it out of me.”

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