Page 32 of Phantasm

He takes me hard and fast to the soundtrack of slapping skin. “Let’s fuck some of that innocence out of you, Mrs. Delacroix.”

Tears stream down my cheeks, and my pussy tightens around Darian’s massive cock.

A wave of pleasure builds between my legs, and I hold onto the edge of the desk for support, letting out soft moans and whimpers.

It can’t be true. The photograph… No, I refuse to believe it.

“That’s it, Cecilia. Come on my cock. Show me how much you like it.”

“Darian, please…” I moan.

“Please, what?”

“More.”

He chuckles, fisting my hair so tightly that my scalp prickles. “I’m going to come so hard inside your tight little cunt, Mrs. Delacroix. Think you can take all my cum?”

“Yes, yes!” My own climax washes over me as I quiver in his hold.

“Fuck…” He grunts, slamming into me one final time, and bites down hard on my shoulder, pulsing his release.

I’ve barely caught my breath when he shifts me over onto my back and stares down at my pussy.

His cum leaks from my gaping hole, thick and milky white, as I look around for wipes, but Darian drops to his knees without hesitation and licks me clean. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, his tongue swirling over my opening.

Looking up at me, he dips his tongue inside, and when he stands up and grabs my jaw, I part my lips with a gasp.

He invades my mouth with his tongue, smeared with cum—mine and his. The kiss is filthy in the best way possible, and I cling to him as he tastes every inch of my mouth.

Darian grunts as our teeth clash, but then he pulls away, panting hard. “I should punish you for breaking in here.”

“This wasn’t a punishment?” I smile.

It’s strange how I don’t hate him, not even a little, and when he kisses me again, I wrap my hands around his neck and my legs around his waist. “Fuck me again,husband.”

He growls into the kiss and then proceeds to fuck me against every surface in his office.

Glitz and glamor aren’t all they’re jacked up to be. My expensive burgundy dress is slowly suffocating me, and my boobs alone are so pushed up that they threaten to touch my chin. Women mill around in expensive gowns, Venetian eye masks, and high updos. Meanwhile, their narcissistic husbands, dressed in tuxedos, eye up the young waitresses like they’re juicy pieces of steak.

The stench of Chanel and greed pricks my nose as Darian steers me deeper into the sparkling ballroom with his hand on my lower back. It’s unfair how devilishly handsome he looks, groomed to the nines with his dark hair slicked back and a black eye mask with intricate detailing.

“Try not to glower.” His low, seductive voice caresses my ear.

A shiver runs through me, so to distract myself, I turn and grab a champagne flute from a male waiter’s tray. I down it in one go, watching his firm ass weave effortlessly through the crowds.

Darian’s fingers dance higher up my spine, and then he’s gripping the back of my neck firmly enough to make me yelp.“Look at another man like that again, and I’ll see to it that they walk out of here dickless.”

He steers me forward, nodding politely to mustached, balding men. I smile at a stranger, discarding my flute on another passing tray. “You can let go of me now.”

“And trust you to behave?” he grumbles. “I think not. You’ll destroy the nearest artwork if I let you out of sight.”

I whirl around. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re a pain in my ass.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Darian’s left eye twitches, and he opens his mouth to retort, but Sinclair joins us with another flute of champagne.