Todos los capítulos de RUINED INNOCENCE: 40 Sinful Nights Of Corruption: Capítulo 511 - Capítulo 520

The skirt was too short for winter and that was the point.No panties. Plug in. A sweater that looked decent until the wind hit and my nipples went obvious underneath. Alexander drove with one hand on the wheel and the other on my bare knee, two fingers already under the hem, resting against the wet seam of me like a warning.“You speak if a clerk talks to you,” he said. “You do not jump when I touch you. If you drip on the seat, you sit in it on the way home.”The grocery store smelled like wet wool and bread. Fluorescent lights. Ordinary people buying milk. I walked beside my mother’s ex-husband with a toy stretching my ass and his cum from last night still a rumor inside the plug. Every step made it move. My thighs wanted to press together. I didn’t let them.He put me in front of the cart and shopped off my shoulder.Produce first. He reached past me for apples and his knuckles dragged the inside of my thigh. In the dairy aisle his hand went up the back of the skirt, found the bas

My mother said he was perfect.Cole Brennan. Forty-four. Broad shoulders, expensive watch, the kind of voice that made waitresses linger. He had been in our house three weeks and already had a drawer in her dresser and a coffee mug that nobody else was allowed to touch. She looked at him like he’d invented kindness.I looked at him like I was going to hell.I’m Sienna Hale. Twenty-two. College. I still lived at home because rent in this city was a joke and Mom liked having me under the same roof. That was fine until she brought home a man whose eyes dropped to my mouth when she wasn’t watching and stayed there a second too long.Tonight she was on a night shift at the hospital. Graveyard. She kissed his cheek at the door, told me there was leftover pasta, and left me in the kitchen with her boyfriend and a bottle of wine he’d already opened.“Sit,” Cole said.Not a request. I sat across from him at the table I used to do homework on. The pasta steamed. He poured wine into my glass wit

Their bed smelled like her perfume and his skin.I was already on my back in the middle of it, naked, knees open, his cum cooling in my shorts on the floor, when Cole shut the door and locked it. Midday light cut across the duvet my mother had bought on sale. He looked at me the way other men looked at a room they already owned.“Hands above your head. Hold the headboard. You let go, I stop and start over.”I grabbed the wood. He stripped without hurry. When he put a knee on the mattress the whole frame dipped. He dragged two fingers through me, checked how sloppy I still was from the closet, and pushed them into my mouth.“That’s her sheets under your ass,” he said. “Keep that in your head.”Then he hooked my knees over his shoulders and shoved into my cunt in one stroke.The angle punched the air out of me. He fucked deep and unhurried, hips rolling, the wet slap of it loud in a room full of her jewelry dish and her reading glasses. My tits jerked toward my face. I held the headboar

Mom left at six-thirty with a travel mug and a kiss on his mouth.The door shut. Cole looked at me over the rim of his coffee like the house had finally become what it was for.“Clothes off. Leave them by the door. You don’t put them back on until she texts that she’s on her way.”I stripped in the entryway. Hoodie. Shorts. The shirt that still had a ghost of last night’s mess on it. Cool air hit my tits and the insides of my thighs. He pointed at the living room rug.“Hands and knees. Crawl the downstairs. I want to watch that cunt move.”I crawled.Past the couch. Past the table he’d first fucked me on. My ass in the air, tits hanging, knees burning on cheap carpet. He walked behind me with his coffee and when I reached the kitchen he set the mug on the small of my back like I was furniture.“Stay.”He opened his pants, crouched, and licked me from behind — one long, filthy stripe from my clit to my ass — then stood and shoved into my cunt while the mug wobbled. I braced on the tile

They put me in the room next to his on purpose.“Family wing,” my mother said, drunk on champagne and the fact that she was marrying money. “Declan’s just across the hall if you need anything.”I needed a locked door and a plane ticket. What I got was a guest suite in a house big enough to hide sins in, a rehearsal dinner that lasted too long, and my brand-new step-uncle watching my mouth every time I drank.Declan Crowe. Forty-six. My stepfather’s older brother. Widower. The one who paid for the wedding and looked at me like the check had bought something else.I’m Paige Lang. Twenty-three. I flew in for four days, a bridesmaid dress that cut too low, and the stupid hope that I could smile through this and leave untouched.The house went quiet after midnight. My mother was in the master with her new husband. The cousins were passed out by the pool. I was in a silk slip because the AC was ice and I’d forgotten a robe.I opened my door for water.He was already in the hall.No jacket.