Page 82 of Wanted
Kamila Ruby Wraith would marry Alex sometime soon. It wouldn’t end our situation, but it would change the dynamics. Alex was a good man. He wouldn’t want to see me hurt his wife even if she asked for it. So these special times, in the shower, with two easily triggered sex junkies, were the last I’d get.
Decisively, I spit on my hand, and I grabbed her with the other, squeezing her cheeks. She squirmed and moaned around my best friend’s cock when I gave her a smack. Then I led my fingers to her pussy. There were no surprises to be found. She was drenched and aching. I cupped her needy cunt, my thumb circling her clit. In between licks, she begged, “Please… Please…”
I gathered some of the moisture that her soaked crevice provided me with, and I smeared it on the hole that I would be taking today. Surprisingly, I had never developed quirks about anal. I felt safe with it.
What I saw in front of me was red, but I battled my way through it. Blood was my friend. I’d grown accustomed to it. I didn’t intend to make the red siren bleed in front of Alex; he liked his girl unscathed. I massaged the rim of muscles, attempting a different approach than before. We’d have to work our way into quick fucks. We were both fragile. Kamila behaved as if nothing could hurt her, but her nightmares said otherwise. Stroking myself at the sight in front of me, I gave her time to get used to the feeling of getting her ass played with. She wriggled in front of me, making sloppy sounds around Alex’s cock. I probed her hole with my fingers until I found it an appropriate time to line myself up at her entrance. I’d intended to swipe some of her wetness on me by teasing her folds with my cock. I let the tip slide in, and then I was lost. I dipped in entirely. She stopped moving, gripping Alex with her fingers.
She said my name.
The moment was molded in a heaven that I’d never get to visit. I removed myself from her tight cunt before I did something stupid like finish inside of her in front of Alex. He wanted that. I had dibs on other things regarding Kamila. I buried myself into her ass with my hands on her cheeks. She still didn’t move, and Alex was starting to get worried. The question was right there on his tongue.
“Baby?” Every time he called her that, I was reminded of how flawed I was.
“Give me a moment.”
“Are you sure?”
The red siren nodded, letting her head fall to the side on Alex’s thighs. Her eyes were shut, and her fingers circled his cock. She took deep breaths. “Fylox, you can do whatever you want. I trust you.”
Alex chuckled. I didn’t. Trust was the foundation of life that I had missed during my childhood. I trusted those close to me, five of them. Kamila was the offspring of evil, but she gave me her trust wrapped in a box with a bow on top for me to devour.
When I started to penetrate her, her hole drew me in. I could barely contain myself at her tightness. I wanted to put my hand around her neck and press her against the floor while I fucked the life out of her.
I held back. Alex needed something else.
With one hand on her lower back for support, I let my free hand wander to her wet and needy pussy. She had orgasms for us, lined up for days. She had waited a long time for this. She was coming on my dick and on my fingers without explicit permission. She’d pay for it later. At that moment, I felt generous. It was almost like I’d left my own body, and I was watching this strange scene unfold from the corner of the bathroom.
Alex came inside of Kamila’s mouth after warning her that he would. She swallowed every last drop like the good girl she was, the good girl with the poison in her veins. She still sucked on him afterward, taking her time as he calmed down.
In the past, I’d been trained to come on request. It wasn’t the most pleasant thing to endure at that age. I carried the talent around wherever I went. I had a name in those circles back then; my reputation of lasting long at that sensitive age of inexperience had preceded me.
I decided to pick Kamila up from the floor, proceeding to fuck her against the tiles on the wall, as initially planned. She didn’t object as I cupped her cunt while doing so. I pressed against her, feeling her sweaty skin against my own. I was deep inside of her, filling her to the brim, and she was milking me. She wanted me to finish inside of her, begging for it with words that I hadn’t given her permission to say. She cursed under her breath, her eyes connecting with Alex, who was dumbfounded where we’d left him.
I let her come around me one last time, and then I emptied myself inside of her.
The red siren panted, holding on to the wall for support. She reached between her legs, touching my hand as I lazily grazed her pussy after her orgasm. We grew intimate at that moment, more so than after having just fucked.
“Don’t,” I warned her.
Kamila listened; she detached her hand immediately. She heard something in my voice. She knew exactly how hard to push and when to let go.
Removing myself from the red in front of me took all the strength that I had left.
KAMILA
SIXTEEN YEARS OLD
My dress was a sticky mess of expensive tequila, reeking of weed and torn at my back. Colton had been dared to grope my tits, and he grabbed me from behind because I wore a long-sleeved dress that cost more than our one percent’s rent. Naturally, he had to mess it up because Colton didn’t give a fuck about money anymore. His sister was gone, and so was his sense of decency.
With a bowed head and my hands folded on my lap, I sat at my father’s desk.
My heels were broken after the long night I’d had, so my feet were tucked away in my neat slippers, proper for a teenager.
“What’s wrong with you?” Daddy asked, furrowing his brows. His silver eyes were full of disappointment and boredom. He had better things to do than chastise his only daughter. “You’re taking away my precious time right now. I have to prepare for a meeting in ten.”
“She needs to be punished, Aram,” the traitor with a voice of honey demanded from my side.
Dressed up in her queen attire, only the crown was missing, my mother ratted me out to my father. Her hair was dark, and her eyes were bitter cobalt. Her clothes were perfect, a short-sleeved dress with an incredible décolleté I could never sport. Her skin was free of blemishes, and her aura stank of privilege. She was a liar. I despised her.
