My dress is white lace, a long skirt and train billowing in the rough sea winds. It’s pretty, but it doesn’t matter. There is no photographer. We will never look back on this moment in fond memory. This is a false transaction with a dead god, and nothing more.
I can barely hear the priest, but it doesn’t matter either.
“I do.” The words leave my mouth at the appointed time. They are swept away on the ocean breeze.
Darko slips a ring on my finger and it is done. I am a married woman. Mrs. Darko Lijander.
Darko’s kiss crushes my mouth, his tongue plundering me there on the rocky shore. He sweeps me off my feet and carries me back up to his stronghold, that foreboding dark place of hard concrete panels and cool glass windows.
He takes me to the bedroom with the cage, the one where my captivity truly began and sets me down on my feet. Before I can open my mouth to say a word, he puts both hands on the neckline of my dress and literally tears it from me, ripping satin and lace to expose my bridal body.
“Holy…” My words are cut off in his kiss, passionate, demanding, and somehow cruel.
This is fucked up, but it is hot as hell. I hate him, but that hatred does not stop my desire. If anything it makes me wetter and hotter and less inhibited than ever before. What do I give a fuck what he thinks now? There is nothing left between us but pure sex.
His hands are roaming my body, his lips on my breasts, his teeth grazing my nipples. He is raw and untamed, stripping the suit from his body. God. As much as I think I hate him, I love that body. The tattoos, the scars, the rough muscles that give him all that power over me.
I want him. As much as I hate this, I need him. His touch brings me back to life, and the coolness between us has hurt me. I wonder if it has hurt him. I wonder if we will ever be good again. I wonder if anything will be good again.
Darko pulls away from me for a second and grabs something out of the bedside drawer. It’s a condom. He pulls it from the foil and slips it on his cock, his eyes fixed on me with mocking intent. “Wouldn’t want to impregnate you, would I?”
“Fuck you,” I hiss.
“No. Fuck you.”
He storms across the room, tosses me down on the bed, and lays a dozen hard slaps to my ass. I haven’t done anything wrong, but I know why he is doing this. It’s the same reason he has done everything since I told him no.
“You can’t punish me for not wanting to have your baby, Darko!”
“I can punish you for whatever I want,” he growls, his hand fisting my hair, his teeth raking over my neck. He is rougher than he was before. “You don’t want to be a mother. You just want to be a fuck toy. I can do that, Chloe. I can make you my little whore. I can use you in every way.”
I feel his cock brush against my pussy. This is my wedding night. This is the night where the man who is supposed to love me more than anyone in the world shows me with his body just how much he cares. But Darko’s cock skims past my cunt and finds my bottom. Cool lube is squirted on that tight little hole and his fingers plunge in, twisting and spreading me for the hard rod I know he intends to plunge inside me.
“Is this what you want, my hot little wife? Do you need your husband’s cock right here in this dirty hole?”
He’s going to make me say it. He’s going to make me ask him to fuck my ass, on my wedding night. His cock isn’t going to go anywhere near my pussy, condom or not.
Pinned on my stomach, I give in to him. This sex is all we have now, and I want it. I want it deep and I want it hard, and yes I want it in my ass. He doesn’t deserve my pussy.
“Fuck me wherever you want.”
“Oh, I will. I fucking will.”
With that, his dick slams inside my ass. I scream out in a mixture of fury and arousal. I fucking hate him right now, but my cunt is dripping with desire that I can’t stop no matter how much I want to. His hate and mine are volcanic in their intensity. He fucks me and I fuck back, letting him have the dirty hole he wants. He slaps my ass and drives in harder, pounding me as I jolt and writhe.
It’s a quick and dirty fuck. Darko slams inside me, his dick throbbing deep in the tightest part of me. It is punishing. It is rough. It is what we both need. I curl my fingers in the sheets and I lift my hips and I take it. I take every stroke until his hand reaches around and finds my clit, his fingers stroking the wet little nub.