Hospital Debauchery-Chapter 195: The Bride III

He stayed buried inside her, unmoving, letting her feel every thick, pulsing inch of him stretching her open, filling her so completely her breath came in shallow, broken gasps.

Her pussy fluttered around him, still raw and oversensitive from the orgasm he’d ripped out of her with his mouth, walls fluttering and clenching like they couldn’t decide whether to push him out or pull him deeper.

The room was thick with the smell of sex. The sheets beneath her ass were soaked, cool and wet against her skin, a growing puddle of her own slick and his spit and the faint metallic tang of her bitten lip.

His balls rested heavy against her asshole, slick with her juices, warm and heavy and swollen, pressing into that tight ring of muscle every time she clenched involuntarily.

Every tiny shift of his hips, barely a rock, made her whimper behind the hand she’d clamped over her own mouth, fingers trembling, nails digging crescents into her cheek, mascara-stained tears leaking between them.

Devon leaned down slow, mouth brushing the shell of her ear, stubble scraping her skin like fire, raising goosebumps down her neck and arms.

His breath was hot, ragged, tasting of her pussy and her tears and the faint copper of her blood where he’d bitten her lip earlier.

"Take your hand away," he ordered, vibrating through her bones.

She shook her head frantically, eyes wide and glassy, terrified, chest heaving so hard the diamond choker cut into her throat.

The reception was still going on somewhere below, faint music and laughter bleeding through the walls, champagne corks popping, crystal glasses clinking, voices rising in toasts to her marriage. To her husband.

He waited, hid cock throbbing inside her, stretching her walls, making her feel impossibly full, the ridge of his crown nudging that spot that made her vision blur.

Then he pulled out slow, agonizingly slow, almost all the way, until just the fat, leaking crown stretched her entrance, until she felt empty and aching and desperate, her pussy gaping and clenching on nothing, slick dripping down her crack. Held there. One heartbeat.

Two. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Three.

Then he slammed back in, one brutal, punishing thrust that punched the air from her lungs and made her vision white out, her back bowing off the bed so hard her spine cracked.

A raw, broken moan tore out of her before she could stop it, loud and wrecked and filthy, echoing off the walls.

"Hand," he repeated, darker this time, dangerous, promising punishment if she disobeyed again.

Trembling, tears slipping fresh from the corners of her eyes and sliding into her hair, she let it fall away from her mouth, fingers shaking, lips swollen and red and glistening with spit.

He rewarded her with another slow, devastating stroke, dragging the thick head of his cock over every swollen, sensitive spot inside her until her back arched clean off the bed and her thighs shook uncontrollably, toes curling into the soaked sheets.

He did it again.

And again.

And again.

Each thrust deliberate, controlled, designed to drive her insane, to make her feel owned, claimed, ruined.

Her juices coated him, thick and creamy, dripped down her ass crack in slow, obscene rivulets, soaked the sheets in a growing wet spot that spread beneath them.

The wet sound of him moving inside her was obscene, loud in the quiet room, squelch, slap, squelch, every time he pulled out and pushed back in, the sound of her pussy sucking him back in, greedy and desperate.

She bit her lip until she tasted blood again, trying to stay quiet, trying not to scream his name, trying not to let the entire hotel know she was getting fucked raw by the wrong man on her wedding night, that her husband was somewhere while another man’s cock was buried inside her.

He leaned down, sucked her bloody bottom lip into his mouth, bit gently, then harder, tasting copper and salt and her, tongue licking into the wound like he wanted to drink her pain.

"Let them hear you," he growled against her mouth, teeth scraping her lip, tongue licking into her like he was starving, breath hot and ragged.

Then he sped up.

Hips snapping forward, harder, deeper, the slap of skin on skin sharp and wet and relentless, echoing like gunshots.

Her tits bounced with every thrust, heavy and aching, nipples red and swollen and begging.

He grabbed one breast, squeezed hard, fingers digging into soft flesh until milk-white skin turned red, rolled the nipple between rough fingers until she cried out, high and desperate and broken.

He did it again to the other, twisted just hard enough to make her sob, then bent and sucked one into his mouth, teeth scraping the tender peak, tongue flicking, sucking so hard she saw stars and felt it straight in her clit, a lightning bolt of pleasure-pain.

She came without warning, sudden and violent, pussy clamping down on him like a fist, gushing around his cock in hot, messy pulses, squirting clear and forceful, thighs soaked instantly, back bowing off the bed as she screamed into the pillow she’d yanked over her face again in sheer panic.

He ripped it away with one brutal hand, threw it across the room where it knocked over a crystal vase with a shattering crash that made her flinch.

"No hiding," he snarled, voice shredded, eyes black with possession, sweat dripping from his brow onto her chest.

He pulled out suddenly, cock glistening with her cum, angry red and throbbing, veins standing out, dripping with her, and flipped her over like she was weightless, like she was his to position however he wanted, whenever he wanted.

She landed on her stomach with a broken gasp, ass in the air before she could even think, knees sliding in the massive wet spot beneath her, the sheets cold and clinging to her skin.

His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging bruises into her flesh, deep purple fingerprints she’d wear for days like medals, and he yanked her up onto her knees hard, spreading her thighs wide, exposing her completely.

Her face burned into the sheets, humiliated and dripping and aching to be filled again, pussy clenching on nothing, begging, leaking.

He didn’t make her wait.

One brutal thrust and he was buried to the hilt again, deeper from this angle, the head of his cock kissing her cervix, nudging something inside her that made her scream into the mattress, raw and broken and filthy, the sound muffled by linen.

He fucked her like that, hard and fast and punishing, one hand fisted tight in her hair, pulling her head back so her back arched painfully, beautifully, spine curved like a bow, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks for weeks.

His balls slapped against her clit with every thrust, wet and filthy, swollen and sensitive, driving her insane, the sound wetter now, obscene, her squirt still dripping from them.

She came again, harder, pussy spasming wildly, juices squirting around his cock in hot pulses, dripping down her thighs in thick rivulets, soaking his balls, the sheets, everything.

He growled low in his throat, hips stuttering for a second, cock swelling inside her, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just fucked her through it like he was trying to break her open, make her his forever.

Pulled out again, flipped her onto her back like a doll, grabbed her ankles in one rough hand, pushed her legs up and open, knees crushed to her chest, feet by her ears, completely exposed, pussy gaping and glistening and wrecked, swollen lips parted, clit throbbing visibly, hole fluttering open and closed like it was begging.

Then he slammed back in, one brutal stroke that made her scream, made her eyes roll back, made her whole body jolt up the bed.

This angle was obscene.

She could see everything: his thick cock disappearing into her over and over, slick and shining with her cum, veins pulsing, the way her pussy stretched wide around him, creamy and frothy, the way her clit throbbed every time he bottomed out and his pelvis ground against it, the way her tits bounced wildly, nipples dark and hard, the way her stomach bulged slightly with every deep thrust.

He fucked her like he was trying to brand himself inside her, hips snapping, balls slapping against her ass, sweat dripping from his chest onto her stomach, mixing with hers, sliding down her sides in hot trails.

She came again, harder than before, back bowing, toes curling, a silent scream tearing from her throat as her pussy gushed around him, squirting in hot arcs that soaked his stomach, his thighs, the bed, the headboard.

He pulled out, cock glistening and angry red, veins pulsing, dripping with her, precum and her cream mixing in thick strings.

Sat back against the headboard, chest heaving, muscles slick with sweat, pulled her up like a ragdoll, straddled her over his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, thighs trembling violently.

"Ride me," he ordered, voice shredded raw, eyes never leaving hers, dark and endless.

She was shaking too hard, legs jelly, pussy swollen and dripping and ruined, cum leaking from her in thick strings that connected her to the sheets.

He didn’t care.

Grabbed her hips with both hands, lifted her like she weighed nothing, lined her up, and pulled her down hard onto his cock.

"Ahnnnnn fuck."

"Devon!"

She screamed, raw and broken, as he filled her completely, stretching her sore, abused walls again, bottoming out so deep she felt him in her throat, felt her cervix kiss the head of his cock.

Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails raking down his chest, leaving red trails that beaded with tiny drops of blood.

He hissed, gripped her ass cheeks hard, spread them wide, fingers brushing her asshole, teasing the tight ring, and moved her, slow at first, up and down his cock, letting her feel every inch, letting her feel how deep he was, how owned, how ruined.

Then faster.

Harder.

She started moving on her own, desperate, chasing the pleasure that was already building again, impossible and overwhelming.

She rode him like that, slow and deep, then fast and filthy, grinding her clit against his pelvis with every downstroke, her tits bouncing in his face, nipples brushing his lips, his stubble.

He sucked one into his mouth, bit down hard, tugged with his teeth until she sobbed, then soothed with his tongue, lapping gently.

She was close again, so close, pussy fluttering, thighs burning, sweat dripping between her breasts, down her back, pooling at the base of her spine.

He grabbed her throat, gentle but firm, fingers wrapping around the diamond choker, pressing the stones into her skin, tilted her head back, forced her to look at him through tears and sweat and mascara.

"Come on my cock," he growled.

Her orgasm hit like a storm, like the end of the world, pussy clamping down so hard he cursed loud and filthy, hips jerking up into her as she screamed, loud and broken and wrecked, no longer caring who heard, who knew, who walked in.

She rode him through it, grinding, shaking, sobbing, pussy gushing, squirting around his cock in pulsing waves, soaking his lap, his balls, the sheets, everything, dripping down his thighs in rivers, pooling beneath them.

He let her collapse forward, face buried in his neck, trembling and wrecked and crying, body limp and boneless.

But he wasn’t done.

Not even close.

He flipped her again, this time onto her side, one leg thrown over his shoulder, the other pinned beneath his thigh, opening her wide.

Then he slid back in, slow and deep, and started all over again, slow and filthy, one hand under her knee holding her open wide, the other rubbing tight, merciless circles over her swollen, oversensitive clit until she came again, sobbing, pussy fluttering helplessly around him, squirting weakly now, body spent but still greedy, still taking.

Then he pulled her to the edge of the bed, stood on the floor, dragged her hips to him, and fucked her standing, her back arched over the mattress, tits bouncing wildly, head hanging off the edge.

He held her thighs wide, watched himself disappear into her over and over, watched her pussy cream around his cock, thick and white and obscene, watched her face contort with every brutal thrust, mouth open, eyes rolled back, drool slipping from the corner of her lips.

She came again, screaming, back bowing, toes curling so hard they cramped, pussy gushing one last time, weak but still hot.

He pulled out, turned her around, bent her over the bed, ass in the air, cheeks spread wide, hole gaping, and took her from behind again, harder, deeper, one hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back, the other slapping her ass red and raw, then soothing the sting with his palm, then slapping again until she was crying and begging and coming again, small and broken now, body trembling, voice gone.

She lost track of time.

Lost track of how many times she came.

Lost track of everything except the thick cock splitting her open, the hands bruising her hips, the mouth marking her skin, the filthy sounds of sex filling the room, wet and relentless, the creak of the bed, the slap of flesh, her own broken sobs.

Until finally, finally, he pulled her onto her back one last time.

Spread her wide, hooked her legs over his arms, folded her nearly in half, pussy tilted up, completely open, gaping and dripping and ruined, and fucked her deep and slow, eyes locked on hers, watching every tear, every gasp, every flutter of her ruined body, every pulse of her swollen clit.

"Look at me," he said.

She did.

Watched him come apart above her, jaw clenched, eyes black and endless, neck corded, cock pulsing deep inside her as he filled her, hot and thick and endless, spurt after thick spurt, flooding her womb, leaking out around him in creamy rivers, down her ass, onto the ruined sheets.

He collapsed over her, breathing hard and ragged, cock still buried inside her, twitching with aftershocks, plugging her full of him, keeping every drop inside.

She wrapped her arms around him, held him close, and cried silently into his neck, body shaking with sobs and aftershocks and the weight of what they’d done, what she’d let him do, what she’d begged him to do.

Minutes passed.

Maybe hours.

The room was utterly wrecked.

Sheets twisted and soaked through, clinging to their skin.

Her wedding dress in a heap on the floor, diamonds scattered. Her body covered in his marks, his cum, her tears, her squirt, bruises blooming across her hips, her throat, her breasts, her ass.

The air thick with the scent of them, sex and sweat and shame and possession.

He was still inside her, half-hard again already, twitching lazily, when it came.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Three sharp, impatient raps at the door, loud enough to cut through the haze.

They both froze, breath catching, bodies locked together.

Another knock, harder.

"Serena, honey, are you there?"