Page 88 of Depraved

My hair is falling out of its elaborate updo, stray tendrils falling around my sweat-slicked brow. With my torn dress, I know I must look halfway to ruin already.

Brandon always knows the most delicious ways to devastate me.

“There you are.”

He doesn’t bother to tackle me to the ground. I have no hope of evading him when he’s mere feet away from me.

I whirl and try to flee anyway. He grabs my skirt and yanks me back to him. Some of the gauzy material rips, but there are so many layers that he’s able to use the dress as leverage to hold me fast.

His fingers hook through the corset laces at my back, drawing the bodice even tighter and further restricting my breathing.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he taunts.

“Let me go!” I demand breathlessly.

“Never,” he growls.

He uses his grip on the laces to pull me inexorably down, until I’m forced to sink to my knees on the damp forest floor. He covers my body with his, pinning me beneath his massive body.

I flail, but I don’t really want to hurt him. He easily captures my wrists and presses them into the dirt above my head. His other gloved hand caresses my face. My panties are wrapped around his fingers, and I smell my own musky desire.

The macabre skull leers down at me, and I shiver at a rush of fear-soaked, carnal anticipation.

“Did you leave me a little wedding present, wife?” He rubs the underwear over my lips. “Thank you for the trophy.”

“Who says it’s a trophy?” I pant. “Maybe I just wanted to drive you crazy. Maybe I have you right where I want you.”

He releases a low sound between a laugh and a groan and rests his masked forehead on mine.

“You have all of me, Karolina. Forever.” He tucks my thong in his pocket and then caresses the swell of my breasts where they’re practically spilling from my tight bodice.

“Tonight, I’ll have all of you.” He says it like a dark warning.

My belly flips. He’s been preparing me for this, and I’ve begged him to claim my ass more than once over the last several months.

“Yes,” I consent. “I want that. I want you.”

He curses and shoves my destroyed skirt up my thighs. His gloved fingers slide through the wetness that coats my labia, and I buck in his steady grip.

He penetrates me easily, finding my g-spot with expert precision. He rubs it in a ruthless rhythm, and his thumb grinds down on my clit at the same time.

A brutal orgasm is forced from my body, and I contract around his invasive fingers helplessly.

“Another,” he demands. “I want you relaxed and ready for me.”

“I am ready,” I moan. “Please…”

“Always so greedy,” he admonishes. “I’m in charge now. And I want another orgasm. I want you to come all over my hand while the stars shine in your eyes.”

It so romantic and perverted that my heart aches in time with my throbbing core.

I surrender to another rush of pure pleasure, coming apart with a scream. I hold nothing back. There’s no shyness or hesitation between us. There could never be shame when I’m with Brandon, my soul mate.

He compels a third orgasm from my cunt, wringing bliss from my body until I’m whimpering for mercy. I’m overstimulated, my clit stinging slightly.

Finally, he withdraws, only to grasp my hips and flip me over. He drags me up onto my hands and knees, and I allow him to position me where he wants me. My skirt is draped over my lower back, leaving my most vulnerable areas exposed to him.

Chill lube drips onto my asshole, and I yelp at the shock, even as I’m grateful that he brought what we needed to ensure I experience minimal discomfort.