Lahat ng Kabanata ng Midnight Pleasure: 30 Shades Of Short Steamy Stories : Kabanata 171 - Kabanata 180

Damon's cock pounded me into oblivion, his brutal thrusts splitting me open, each slam so hard my body jolted across the bed, shredded gown a lost cause as his whispers scorched my ear, filthy vows of ownership."You're mine, Emily, not his," driving me to a shattering climax, walls clenching his thickness as he spilled hot inside, cum leaking down my thighs. The loudspeaker's call, "Emily Mikaelson, the bride!" still echoed, guests restless, but his relentless fucking drowned it all, my screams muffled in sheets now soaked with sweat and sin.Panting, body trembling, I shoved him off as he softened, his smirk stubborn even in afterglow. "Fuck, Damon, I have to go!" I hissed, scrambling up, heart racing with panic. The dressing room was a wreck, veil torn, petals crushed, gown in ribbons. I grabbed a spare shawl from the vanity chair, wrapping it frantically around my chest to cover my ravaged breasts, nipples still throbbing from his mouth. My thong was ruined, I kicked it under

Kathy’s body slumped against mine, her sweat-slick curves pressed to my chest, our breaths ragged in the candlelit haze of her sitting room. My cum dripped from her pussy, pooling on the leather couch beneath us, her big ass still trembling from the orgasms I’d fucked out of her, first with my tongue, then my cock, pounding her doggy style, reverse cowgirl, relentless until we both shattered. The lie to Emily, my new wife, burned somewhere distant left at the reception with a fake meeting excuse, while Kathy’s naked perfection owned me here, her best friend stealing what the vows promised. But as I caught my breath, thinking I’d claimed her, Kathy stirred, her lips curling into a wicked smirk that flipped the script.She slid off my lap, slow and deliberate, her heavy breasts swaying, nipples still hard from my pinches. My cock twitched, half-soft but stirring, as she stood, legs straddling mine, her pussy glistening with our mess. “You think you’re done, David?” she teased, voice

Damon’s laugh lingered in the air like smoke, thick and choking, his body too close in the sprawling living room of David’s mansion, our mansion now, though it felt like a gilded cage with him inside it. The wedding gifts towered around us, ridiculous displays of wealth, crystal decanters that could double as weapons, engraved silver platters big enough for a feast, velvet boxes spilling jewelry that sparkled under the chandelier’s glow.I’d let him in on David’s orders, stupidly thinking I could handle sorting packages with my ex, the man who’d ripped my gown, made me beg, fucked me raw while the priest waited to bind me to another. My skin crawled under the borrowed jacket, the torn lace beneath scratching like a reminder, but I couldn’t leave, couldn’t kick him out without explaining why my scream earlier meant something deeper than surprise.“You’re twisted, Damon,” I spat, turning away to grab a heavy box from the floor, my arms straining under the weight of some antique vase w

Damon’s hands were everywhere, a storm of caresses that stripped away the last threads of my resistance, his fingers working magic on my skin like he’d never forgotten a single inch of me from our six years together.The living room of David’s mansion, our mansion, now a den of betrayal faded into a haze of wedding gifts and shadows, the chandelier’s light catching on scattered ribbons like confetti from a war I was losing. His palm cupped my breast fully now, thumb and forefinger rolling my nipple through the torn lace with expert twists, pinch, release, stroke, each motion sending jolts straight to my core, making my thighs clench around the growing ache. His other hand roamed my thigh, fingers dancing higher under the skirt hem, caressing the sensitive inner skin in slow, deliberate circles, inching toward the heat that betrayed me, wet and ready despite the ring on my finger.“Damon... we can’t,” I gasped again, the words weaker than before, my body arching into his touch as his

The alarm sliced through the quiet like a rusty knife, that shrill beep beep beep drilling into my skull before I even cracked an eye. I fumbled across the nightstand, knocking over the half empty water glass, water sloshing onto the edge of the sheet and finally slapped the clock silent with the side of my hand. It went dark, blessedly dark, and I flopped back onto the pillow, staring up at the ceiling fan blades that hung there motionless, mocking me with their stillness. My arm draped over my eyes, blocking out whatever grayish haze filtered through the curtains, and I let out a long, slow groan that rattled in my chest.Gosh, it's Saturday. The thought hit me like a warm hand smoothing over my forehead, chasing away the fog. No office, no desks piled with files that smelled like stale coffee, no heels pinching my toes or blouses that clung too tight. Today's a free day. Wonderful. I stretched, feeling the sheets tangle around my legs, the cotton soft against my skin where it