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Beg for my cock like a whore
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2026-10-02 15:55:30
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DOOM AT THEIR DOORS: TALES OF ILLICIT LONGINGS Beg for my cock like a whore
Aaron’s voice cut through the air like a blade.“Look at you. Already dripping because of a needle. Not because of me. Not yet. Say it again.”My wrists burned where the ropes had bitten. My body was on fire, heart slamming, skin hypersensitive, every nerve screaming. The amphetamine had me panting, thighs slick, mind fracturing between rage and the forced need clawing up from between my legs.“Please… fuck me, Adams.”“Louder. Like you mean it. Like you’re not still thinking about that little shit Wade.”“Please fuck me, Adams!” My voice cracked. “I hate you—” I said the latter with a little malicious voice from my mind. “Hate me while you take it.” He dragged me off the bed by my hair, spun me, and shoved my face-down over the edge of the mattress. “Ass up. Now.”I scrambled into position because my body wouldn’t let me do anything else. Cool air hit my soaked cunt. Aaron’s hands clamped my hips hard enough to bruise.“This is what you married into,” he snarled, slamming into me
DOOM AT THEIR DOORS: TALES OF ILLICIT LONGINGS WGFT
"What?!" I blurted out, my voice cracking in disbelief as I clutched the fluffy pink towel tighter against my chest.Aaron looked at me with a slow, agonizingly condescending expression, as if I had just asked him to explain basic math."Wade didn't even have to ask twice," Aaron sneered, closing the distance across the master suite in long, predatory strides. His steps were measured, his broad shoulders squared, and his right hand was deliberately kept tucked behind his back.It took me a second to realize he was trying to conceal something from my line of sight."Wait, what?" I demanded, my panic spiking. Was he seriously bringing Wade up now? On our wedding night? "Are you seriously throwing a jealous tantrum about Wade right now after you literally kidnapped me into an arranged marriage?""You know what, Jessica? I need you to just shut the fuck up and do the hell as I say!" Aaron snapped, his voice dropping an octave into a dangerous, gravelly timber. He cornered me against the
DOOM AT THEIR DOORS: TALES OF ILLICIT LONGINGS Strip!
"Oh, I'm literally shaking in my custom designer heels right now, please don't hurt me," I mocked, my voice dripping with so much sarcasm it could have corroded copper pipes.Aaron didn't even flinch. He just tightened his grip on my waist like a vice grip engineered by NASA, keeping that terrifyingly perfect, photogenic smile plastered across his face for the benefit of those high-society vultures staring at us.Before I could roll my eyes out of my head, a solemn-faced priest shuffled up the steps of the altar, clearing his throat awkwardly as he stood between us.A second wedding? What in the actual, multi-million-dollar scam was this? The Adams family must have been running some kind of tax-evasion marriage cult on the side.As the holy man opened his book to begin the sacred rites for a marriage that was about as holy as a Las Vegas drive-thru chapel, my eyes darted frantically across the sea of tailored suits and glittering diamonds. I scanned the crowd for a familiar face, hal
DOOM AT THEIR DOORS: TALES OF ILLICIT LONGINGS Welcome to hell, Querida.
This wasn't just some random billionaire's private resort. This was the Adams family primary compound.Panic exploded through my veins like liquid fire. I sat bolt upright, slamming my hands against the glass partition separating the back seat from the front."Hey! Turn this car around right now!" I yelled, my voice cracking with sudden, unadulterated terror. "Do you hear me?! Turn around, or I will throw myself out of this window while you're doing seventy!"The driver didn't even flinch. He smoothly guided the luxury sedan down the final stretch of the driveway, pulling to a flawless, gentle stop right in front of the grand, towering double doors of the main manor house."We have arrived, ma'am," the driver announced calmly, cutting the engine with a soft click. "Mr. Adams is waiting inside."Mr. Adams.Not Mr. Anonymous. Not some faceless, pot-bellied old corporate relic.Aaron.The blood drained entirely from my face, leaving her dizzy and shivering in the oversized wedding gown.
DOOM AT THEIR DOORS: TALES OF ILLICIT LONGINGS Delusion
"Seriously, what is wrong with you?" I muttered out loud, glaring past the privacy partition at the back of the driver's head.The masked man in the front seat didn't even twitch. He just kept his hands locked at ten and two on the steering wheel, navigating the endless ribbon of blacktop like an emotionless android programmed strictly for vehicular transport."Nothing is wrong with me, ma'am," he deadpanned, his muffled voice sounding like it was filtered through a CIA walkie-talkie. "Just executing orders.""Right, orders from the Grand Poobah of Corporate Tyranny," I snapped back, leaning my head against the cool leather windowpane. "Tell me, does Mr. Anonymous wear a cape in his spare time, or does he just settle for crushing human souls under a mahogany desk?"Silence. Not a single chuckle. Not even a sympathetic sigh. Working-class solidarity was completely dead in the billionaire sector, apparently.I let out a long, heavy sigh, my gaze drifting back to the vanishing city skyli
DOOM AT THEIR DOORS: TALES OF ILLICIT LONGINGS Die
The ache in my skull was bad enough, but waking up to find myself gift-wrapped in yards of a suffocating white tulle while tied securely to a wooden chair inside a dusty, abandoned warehouse took the absolute cake.My vision swam, colors bleeding together in a nauseating haze, until I blinked hard and took stock of my humiliating predicament. Both of my wrists were lashed tightly to the backrest, and my ankles were bound to the chair legs with industrial-strength hemp rope.*Great! Because fuck Mr. Anonymous!*My brain fired off in a dozen angry directions at once. I had never wanted this ridiculous marriage in the first place,I only agreed to it as a desperate sacrifice to bail my dad out of his corporate nightmare. But whoever had intercepted me on my way out of the wedding venue possessed a terrifyingly functional, cold-blooded brain. The math actually checked out: if news spread like wildfire that Jessica Conway had been violently abducted on her wedding day, the wedding itself
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