Crave: A Collection Of Wicked Desires
My thighs sticky with his cum, pussy aching and stretched.
I scrambled, breath shaky, blotting my lips, straightening the veil, smoothing the skirt back into place. My reflection stared back—a ruined bride piecing herself together while the clock ticked closer to vows.
A knock rattled the door. “Five minutes, bride!”
I swallowed hard, forcing a shaky smile at my reflection. My legs trembled, wetness still dripping, but I lifted my bouquet and straightened my shoulders.
Time to go marry him.
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