Page 43 of Deranged Imposter

“I’d lose you to fairness,” he murmurs, brushing my damp hair from my tired eyes.

I search for a sign in his eyes. “I was always with you.”

He doesn’t let the festering atrocity break the iron gleam in his eyes, but he does let some through the perfected smile of secrecy.

“Have your ankles been broken before?”

He throws me on my back and brings my leg over his broad shoulder, lips caressing the tense muscle on the side of my calf.

I swallow, my mind fogging with frightened lust. “Why would you ask that?”

The dainty anklet chimes a melody of angelic vocals.

“Just a thought,” he utters.

He slots his heavy cock back inside my sore, fluttering pussy. Unease squeezes my throat like the filthily wet clench around his thickening girth.

“I’m nothing but yours, Isa.”

He’s Mikah, and that’s what matters.