Page 81 of Depravity

If I’d thought about it properly, I would have prepped her, would have cleaned her out but I’m not bothered by bodily fluids. Besides, you get used to that, used to all of it, here in Oblivion.

As I start thrusting in and out, her muscles relax, her body accepts me, welcomes me even.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” I whisper. Like it was a conscious thing. I plant a kiss on her back, then start pumping away into her cunt.

She’s getting wetter now, she’s definitely starting to squelch.

“Listen to yourself,” I say, “Listen to how wet you are. You’re fucking soaked, wife. Tell me how much you want this, tell me how much you want to come.”

“I don-don’t.” She sobs, but that’s a lie. We can both hear it, we can both hear how desperate she is. How her body wants to obey me, even if her mind is too stubborn to do so.

“It’s a si-sin,” She stammers, shaking her head.

“You just killed your friend, Brynn,” I reply, “There’s no coming back from that. You might as well embrace the fact that you’re bound for hell and just enjoy yourself.”

She wails, she sobs more, but as if those words are a catalyst, she combusts. She flails in my arms, coming so hard that her muscles squeeze my cock almost painfully.

“That’s it,” I groan, slamming harder into her arse, keeping that feeling going on and on. “Come on my fingers Brynn, come all over me.”

Ican still see it. Can still hear it. Her moans. The way she got off on it.

My little wife is a sadist, she just doesn’t realise it yet.

My lips quirk as I think of how I’m going to continue to bring that part of her out, how I’m going to tease it out. Turn her into my little monster. She’ll be the perfect match for me.

“You seem happy today, husband,”

That smile instantly dies. I scowl, looking at the witch now standing beside me.

“Don’t call me that.” I snarl as quietly as I can. I don’t want to draw attention to us, not with so many damned beady little eyes around.

Giselle glances about, that fake smile still plastered on her face as she tucks her hand into my arm. “But you are my husband, it’s predetermined.” She says.

Her nails dig into my suit, I shrug to get her off and she digs in tighter.

We’re at a rally. Nothing too big, but big enough that Magnus has demanded my presence. From the outside this race is meant to look like it’s all above board, but we know that the Esau are doing everything they can to swing it their way.

As if we’d let them. As if we, the Blakes, would simply roll over and give up.

“So, what is it that has you so content?” She purrs.

Now, that would be telling. I meet her gaze, so close to laughing in her heavily made-up face. The day she finds out what’s really happened, she’s going to hit the roof. As will Quinn. But by then my little wife will be pregnant, and no one will be able to do a thing to fight this.

I roll my eyes, ignoring the desperation in her voice.

“You know,” she continues, “We need to start planning this thing, seeing as it’s only a few months away.”

Over my dead body. I clench my hands, trying not to react to the obvious tease in her voice.

“I want it in the Cathedral,” She states, turning to face me full on. “I want everyone to be there and to witness as we consummate it.”

An image of her, of my real wife spread out on the altar flashes before my eyes, and I feel the annoyance again that our wedding was in private. That I couldn’t hold her up for everyone to know she was off-limits and untouchable.

“…seeing as your brother might be Chapter Lord, I think it’s only fitting.”

“Might?” I repeat. Like it’s a maybe.

She smiles more, as if she’s flirting. “It’s not a done deal yet.” She says, reaching up to straighten my tie, even though it’s already perfectly straight.

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