Page 89 of Corrupted Bride

“You like that?”

“I fucking love it.” He drags me to my feet and dominates my mouth, pushing me back against the wall. It’s cold on my back and I yelp, laughing, but my grin is smothered by his tongue and lips. His fingers slip between my thighs and he strokes me, sending chills and shivers of bliss down my spine.

His fingers slide deep inside, straight down to his palm. I moan, eyes rolling back as he finger-fucks me and grinds against my clit.

“That’s it, baby. I can play that game too.” He bites my shoulder, mouth nipping and pecking at my sensitive skin as his hand fucks and grinds me.

“Oh my god,” I moan, grabbing his hand and his shoulders. He’s so beautiful it breaks me. Every scar, every tattoo. How this man is mine, I’ll never know. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“You’re so dripping wet, baby. You’re dripping down my palm.” He pulls his fingers out, and I gasp before he buries my protest by shoving his pussy-wet fingers into my mouth.

I whimper in shocked outrage. But he uses his other hand to stroke my pussy, and god, it feels good, getting touched and dominated. I love that he’s making me suck his fingers, making me taste myself, while still giving me what I need.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs as I suck and spread my legs to give him more leverage. “You’re such a lovely slut for me, aren’t you? Getting filled? Sucking and taking my fingers?”

I can only moan in reply. It’s so incredible I might fall apart. He moves faster until he moans, an animalistic groan.

“I can’t wait anymore. Fuck this teasing.” He turns me and I spread for him eagerly. His cock presses against me from behind. “I need to fill you.”

“God, yes, please, fuck me.”

He slides in deep, grinding in, his cock wet with spit, mixing with my soaked pussy. I gasp at his size, still amazed at how he fills me to the absolute brim. His massive dick moves in slow, giving me time to get used to him again. I doubt it’ll ever be easy—but at least the pain is mostly gone.

“That’s right, you can take it all, baby,” he says, voice trembling with need.

“Fuck me,” I beg, pushing back to take his last inch. “I’m so close.”

“Look at you,” he says, grinding and stroking back before slamming in deep. “You tried to tease me, but now it’s backfiring. You’re the needy one, begging for cock.”

“Fuck, don’t stop.” He’s right and I don’t care. I wanted to have control tonight, but to hell with it. I’d rather submit to this man and let him fuck me into a gooey mess. “Stop talking and fuck me.”

He snarls and drives harder. I gasp, arching, taking more. He slams in and in and in, out and in and out, fucking me roughly and kissing my shoulders and biting me. His hand wraps around my throat and he forces me back to kiss him as he puts pressure on my neck. Not enough to choke, but enough to let me know he’s got me, that he’s controlling me, that he’s the one in charge.

And I fucking love it. God, I love it. This man, this monster, he rips into me like I’m a work of art. He praises me and I beg him to keep going, and we’re grinding and fucking in a whimpering tangle.

“I’m so fucking close,” I moan, mewling as he strokes my clit.

“I want you to come,” he whispers. “And I want you to taste yourself on my cock when you’re done.”

“Fuuuuck,” I say, arching, and that breaks me.

I shatter on his massive dick. I come hard as he pumps into me, relentless and incredible. I nearly fall over but he holds me up until I’m finished. I gasp, pulling forward, his cock sliding out, and I drop to my knees to take him in my mouth. It’s pussy, it’s warm and wet, and it’s salty and good, and I suck him with reckless abandon, my hands squeezing my sensitive tits and stroking my nipples.

“Oh my god, Mari,” he groans as he explodes on my tongue. “You look so fucking good.” He finishes in a haze, one hand gripping my hair, and I swallow him eagerly, happily. When he’s done, he drags me up and buries my mouth with a hungry kiss.

“That’s my girl,” he mutters, holding me tight. “My fucking wife.”

We stay like that in the water for a while until he washes me off. The blood’s gone and any sign of the fight is rinsed down the drain. He towels me, taking his time, and bundles me in a big, fuzzy robe.

“Stay,” he commands, putting me into bed.

He disappears for a few minutes. I shoot a text to Cruz, but I don’t get a reply. I didn’t think I would.

Bass comes back with tea. “Drink.”

“You’re bossy as hell right now.”

“We’ve been through a lot. It’s time to decompress.”