Fucked Raw by my Husband's Ruthless Best friend.

(Ava’s POV)It was 11:47 p.m at night.I have spent another night alone. Another night of waiting for a man whose scent still lingered on the pillow but hadn’t touched me in thirty days.Leon Vance — my husband who is both my sin and my salvation.The silk sheets that I lay on were cold, and too smooth for a new couple. I pressed the remote, and the big TV came to life, gleaming with nude images. Sounds filled the air. Moans that weren’t mine.I lay on the bed, watching p**n on my TV, with my thighs clenched really tight. Video after video of men fucking women, big cocks splitting them open. I rubbed my clit through my panties, imagining Leon's face as he pounded into me on our honeymoon.I didn’t mean to watch it. Not really. It just… happened out of curiosity or punishment. I couldn’t tell. Maybe both. I was so horny that I couldn't bear it.My chest rose and fell unevenly as the moans filled the room. My body ached really badly, not for the strangers on the screen, but for him. For

(Ava’s POV) The blonde’s knees cracked when she stood up. Her mouth was loaded with his loads. Cum still clung to her chin. She wiped it with the back of her hand very slowly, like she was savoring the taste. Her eyes flicked to me—just once—then she turned away to him. Her eyes stayed locked on him, hungry for approval.He didn’t give it. After all, she was a tool that he’d finished using. He didn’t even look at her. “Go.” The door clicked shut behind her. The air got heavier, and thicker, like the room shrank to just us. My wrists burned against the silk ties. My thighs shook. I couldn’t close my legs. I couldn’t hide how soaked I was. The sheets under my ass were cold now, wet from me. He sat on the sofa across from the bed, spreading his legs. Cock in his fist. Still hard and throbbing. Fuck. It was as thick as Leon’s—maybe thicker. Veins roped down the shaft, pulsing under his slow strokes. The head of his dick was slick with spit and cum. He didn’t rush. Just watched

Ava’s POVThe sun didn’t ease in that morning. It slashed through the curtains like a blade straight across my face. I winced before my eyes even opened. My head throbbed in rhythm with my pulse. It was as if someone had parked a drum kit inside my skull and hired a kid to go wild on it. I tried to swallow but my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. The clock on the nightstand glowed in red: 11:47 a.m. Late in the morning. I pushed up on one elbow. The movement sent a wave of nausea rolling through me. The room tilted, came back to normal. The pillows and the silk sheets clung to my thighs, smelling of sweat and sex. One heel still dangled from my left foot. The other one lay across the room, kicked off near the dresser.. My black, expensive silk dress was totally ruined. Half-zipped in the back, straps slipped down my arms like they’d given up. I then looked down in my body only to notice the bite marks. Not gentle or playful but dark, deliberate bruises scattered across