Page 55 of Phantasm

I’ll sport bruises tomorrow, but it’ll be worth it. So fucking worth it.

“Listen to that greedy cunt. It missed me.”

“I don’t fucking think so,” I reply, the words muffled in his ruthless grip. “You could be anyone.”

His eyes turn a lethal shade of cobalt. “Shut your mouth. I’m not just anyone. I’m your husband.” He releases me, pushing up on his knees and shoving his briefs down to reveal his engorged dick, and then strokes it in front of me. “And this is the only cock you get to worship.”

I wet my lips in anticipation. Everything about him is perfect, from his chiseled chest to his defined V and veiny dick. It’s unfair how attractive he is.

He tangles his fingers in my hair and guides me closer to his balls. “Let me see you suck on them.”

“And what if I don’t want to.”

“Do you always have to fight me on everything?”

“Would you like me as much if I didn’t?”

His lips pull up in a wicked side smirk. “Suck on my balls like an eager wife, or I’ll suffocate you with the pillow again. Maybe I’ll even kill you this time.”

“You won’t kill me.” I make a show of dragging my tongue over his balls, humming low in my throat. “You like me too much.”

“I like the tears in your eyes when panic sets in,” he snaps. “Now shut that mouth and do as you’re told.”

“If you wanted a pliant wife, you really made a mistake when you forced me to marry you.”

A growl rumbles in his chest, and he shoves his dick into my mouth, clearly fed up with my attitude, unbothered that my teeth graze along his shaft. If anything, I think he likes a lick of pain with his pleasure.

My hands fly up to his muscular thighs, and I try to push him away, but he holds my head in place with both hands and fucks my face like I’m nothing more than an object—a hole for his cock.

Every time his dick hits the back of my throat, I gag, and he praises me.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl.”

“Open that throat for me. Your mouth was made to be fucked.”

“I’m going to come so damn hard down your throat, you’ll choke to death on my cum. The coroner will class it as an accidental drowning.”

The last part made my pussy flutter something fierce, and I tremble, barely able to cling to his thighs while he pistons his hips.

His pubes tickle my nose as I look up at him with teary eyes, saliva dripping down my chin. With one final grunt, he shoves my face against his groin, his cock buried so deep down my throat that I can feel it pulsing his release. He stares at me withintense heat and desire in his darkened gaze, and I feel myself melt against him as he strokes my damp hair away from my forehead. “You’re a vision with your husband’s cock down your throat, Mrs. Delacroix.”

I swallow around Darian’s length, and a wave of nausea cramps my stomach. Gagging, I dig my nails into his thighs again as he holds me in place with his hand behind my head. “Suck it.”

But you’ve already come…

He lifts his brow and smirks, as if he can hear my thoughts. “What are you waiting for?”

As his grip lightens, I greedily suck his softening cock, and it doesn’t take long for it to swell again and grow even harder than before. I trail my tongue over each angry vein, then flick the tip through a bead of precum on his crown.

“Take it deep and hollow your cheeks.”

I look up at Darian, sucking on his cock like it’s a damn lollipop, and then swirl my tongue over his crown.

“Fuck yourself,” he instructs, brushing my hair away from my cheeks as I suck him deep. “I want to hear how wet your pussy is.”

Dipping my hand beneath my skirt, I moan around his length, easing my fingers inside me. My pussy is drenched, so it’s no surprise I meet zero resistance.

“There’s a good girl,” he praises as my head bobs in his hands. “Fuck yourself on your fingers.”