Chapter 24 #3
“Scarlett,” I taunt, kissing her neck and tasting the soap and salt on her skin. She’s nervous. Her pulse is fluttering. She just showered, but she’s a little sweaty. Mm. Heat and salt, yes. I should be horrified. I am not. “Humor me, darling.”
Our mouths connect, more emotion in that one kiss than I’ve ever given another person.
My hands enjoy plump, hot handfuls of her ass through the dress.
Savor the smooth flesh of her thighs beneath the slitted skirt.
Feast on the carved hollows of her tucked waist. Feminine. Volcanic. Unpredictable. Loyal.
“You’re killin’ me, Smalls,” she huffs against my mouth, licking my tongue and teeth. “It’s been years since we’ve had sex. Stop torturing me.”
My hands tighten on her waist, pinning her against me. We look at each other. Really look at each other.
“We can only be together if the boundaries between us blur, if there’s no you and me, but us.
” I pause and drag my hands over Scarlett’s hips, memorizing the generous shape of her.
If I die, I’m taking these memories with me to the underworld.
“Me. You. Them. All or nothing. In the eyes of the family, those boys will belong to me as much as they belong to you.”
“Did you hear me the other night when I threatened to kill you? That ship has sailed. Stop spouting poetry and fuck me, Marie.” Scarlett is frustrated and red-faced, undulating and rubbing and threatening to ruin this beautiful dress with my cum.
I hold her still with an even stronger grip.
She flashes a knife in a thigh-holster under her skirt and arches a questioning brow.
With a laugh, I release my captive she-devil.
I could hold her down if I wanted to. I’ll only do it if she wants me to.
Scarlett lifts and positions her hips until I’m pointed at her ass instead of her pussy, grinding against me as my entire body goes stiff.
My fingers subconsciously lock back on, stopping her in the act.
The wet head of my cock is rubbed mercilessly against the tight pink pleats of Scarlett’s hole.
I should hate this. I should be appalled at the very idea of something so corrupt and degenerate.
Fuck, it feels good. Disreputable, but good. Libertine and exquisite.
“Let me take you like this. You’ll love it, you dirty perv.” Scarlett fights my hold on her, encouraging the tip to press into that tight wall of muscle.
“No condom?” I ask, thinking of all the implications.
My entire soul rebels. Could I be any closer to another human being than this?
Any more exposed? I’m sweating now, but Scarlett is patient, stroking the side of my face until I look up and meet her eyes.
She’s challenging me, mouth twisting into a naughty grin.
“I’m your wife, not a fuckin’ whore. You will never use a condom with me, you understand?” She tickles my chin, smug and self-righteous. It’s her morality as much as her immorality that turns me on.
“Pussy first.” My breath is a rushed, salivary whisper. “I’ll finish back there and let you carry me around like a souvenir.”
“Oh, shit yeah,” she groans as I yank her forward and shove her down, impaling her on my cock with a groan from both of us.
Scarlett pushes against my shoulders like she wants to slide me deeper, so I let go.
Her ass slams into my thighs and her hands snag the lapels of my jacket, her panties still tangled around the fingers of her right hand.
The jacket is shoved off and onto the floor as the radio crackles to the next song, haunting and ethereal with the ice clinging to the outside of the windows.
My shirt is opened up in the front. Her palms are all over me.
My stomach, my chest, my shoulders. I’m marked by her DNA, soiled and stained under Scarlett’s hot skin.
We meet eyes and I shiver a little, but not in disgust. The world still repulses me, but there’s this one bright spot.
I feel the edge of the ring I gave her digging into the back of my neck as she holds onto me, rocking her hips forward.
I’m deep in wet heat, wrapped up and held tight.
My fingers fist in her hair as she grins at me like a shark again.
“Open up, Alexei,” she purrs, lifting her panties and stubbornly refusing to break our gaze.
I crack my teeth and take the dirty underwear in my mouth, allowing her to gag me with them.
Scarlett pushes her heels into the floor, moving us, riding me while my hands greedily cup her ass.
Gold gown falls around us both in a wave of glittering beads and lace.
I taste silk. I taste pussy. I’m choking on a wet gag of my fiancee’s dirty lingerie.
Scarlett takes my face in her hand, kissing me along the edge of my jaw, the corners of my mouth.
Her fingers play with my hair, cling to it, yank on it.
My eyes are heavy-lidded, my fingers clenched around the soft, ample swells of her ass.
There’s so much liquid between us, a slip and slide of bodily fluids.
I’m wearing Scarlett all over my naked thighs. I can smell her.
A moan escapes through the filthy weight of the gag on my tongue. Knowing that she had these panties on while we were flirting, that there was a wet spot of her excitement on them, that does it for me. I suck on the gag like I’m trying to drink it down, and that riles us both up.
“I wish I had a piece of tape for your mouth.” Scarlett puts her palm against my lips, rocking and riding and ravaging me.
“Then again, you can just be a good boy for me and keep it where I tell you.” She arches both brows, putting her lips and tongue all over my face. Every square inch. My neck, too.
The chair scrapes against the old floor, adding another sordid story to the myriad tales that came before.
Like all those teens, fucking each other in an abandoned school bus. Only, this isn’t a quickie high school fling. This is a bloody declaration. I bite down on the panties, my attention on Scarlett and the mess she’s making of me. The mess I’m letting her make. The mess I crave.
My moans are heavy and jumbled behind the fabric gag, sounds of ribald masculinity wrapped in a leash of violent femininity. My future wife’s pussy is snug and hot, strangling my cock and soaking me in her arousal.
Slick, slick, slick, slick. Slap, slap, slap, slap.
I can barely stand my own body and here I am, falling to pieces inside someone else’s.
“I’m going to poison your blood,” she whispers, curling the fingers of one hand around my neck, nails gouging my skin.
Human fingernails are grotesque. What venom is she injecting into me?
Why do I want a dose strong enough to kill?
I groan again as Scarlett bounces up and down, shaking the bus, perfuming the air with the sound of our filth.
Smacking and slicking and soaking each other.
“I’m going to crawl inside of you and rot your bones. ”
My hands push down on Scarlett’s hips, forcing every inch of my dick into her body. No space between us. No room to breathe. I own her from lips to cervix. My homicidal little mob wife.
An orgasm creeps up on me as Scarlett tenses, her lipstick smeared across her face like blood. Her body cinches around my penis, temporarily blocking the fluid from my balls. I’m captive and ruined, and I’ve never been happier.
Scarlett huffs out a little breath, cheeks reddening as her body relaxes around me, freeing my cum.
My eyes roll.
My cock twitches as I spill and spill in her. So much seed. Such an intense, gut-wrenching orgasm.
I’m filling her, and all I can think about is how to get more.
My hips struggle to pump, trapped between the chair and Scarlett’s body, my own strength concentrated on crushing us together.
I finish with a jolt of electricity from the tip of my cock to my fingertips, sliding my palms up Scarlett’s spine as I shudder.
It’s not enough. She makes me want to fuck and fuck and fuck.
Scarlett forces two fingers between my own lipstick-stained lips, taking hold of the panties and drawing them out so slowly that I choke.
Her body undulates like a wave, pressing against the front of mine.
Saliva soaked fabric is dangled between us like a taunt.
As nauseated as that sight makes me, it does it for me, too.
“New kink unlocked?” she asks, standing up and leaving my hard, wet cock to slip out of her.
It springs with the motion, spattering drops of our mixed fluids across the split halves of my dress shirt.
My stomach churns. My breath is labored.
I flex my bare hands to keep from grabbing her.
To keep from digging into my pockets for antiseptics and hand sanitizer.
Her wet arousal, I like. My own cum disturbs me.
“You are my kink.” The words come out like a declaration, hitting Scarlett in the chest. She exhales and then takes that sopping, filthy underwear, wrapping it around my dick and giving it a rough, mean jerk.
“Yeah? Good. I’m a jealous bitch. You might have to share me, but I won’t share you.
Not with a woman. Not with a fetish. Not with a kink.
” She chafes me with that wet underwear, her eyes on mine, milking me into the fabric with a wrenching of my stomach muscles and a horrible gasping curse that I wish I could take back.
The edge of her sharp mouth lifts, pleased by my willful undoing.
With the impatience of a fallen saint, she works me back to a nice, stiff erection and then forces me to unload a second time. More. I could go all night.