Ruined Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 48018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
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When he is satisfied that I am properly prepared, he looms over me, his scarred, mature, muscular body illuminated by flickering candlelight. I am absolutely enamored, more than in love. I am in deep devotion, sacrificing myself to him.

By the time his cock spears inside my pussy, finally claiming the chalice of my womanhood, I have been his for what feels like an eternity. This is the final physical manifestation of that ownership, his flesh inside my flesh, his cock stretching my pussy and making it his.

I clutch at him, cling to him, hold on to him. He is the only solid thing in the entire universe. He is the only thing that matters, and every rough thrust that brands my flesh with his further cements what I already knew: that I belong to him.

This is not a romantic connection. There will be no church bells. There will be no births. There will be no happily ever after. Instead, there will be an intense and inescapable connection that marks every moment of my life and surrounds every breath I take. I will be forever held in Angelo’s arms no matter how distant we are. I will have a place I belong. I will have a master who can handle every bit of me, including the pieces I have spent a lifetime hiding from the world.

Gripping my hips and arching up before me, Angelo drags me back and forth along his cock, my lips gripping his thick rod every time he forces me to depart. I am being used like a doll, or a toy. He is pleasuring himself with my pussy and showing me my place at the same time.

He may use me as he pleases, because I am nothing without him. He found me broken and has turned me into a new creature entirely. The pieces were always inside me, but they were shattered when the bullet hit me and the forces I aligned myself with abandoned me. I don’t know if I yet understand what Angelo has done to me, or how he has put me back together. All I know is that I am closer to whole than I have been in a long time.

The rhythmic thrusting is lulling me to sleep, having a near hypnotic quality. Being with Angelo is not like being with any other man. He’s not fucking me for his own pleasure. There is a purposefulness to his motions, a dominance and a mastery being imparted with every single movement.

I fall asleep while I am still being fucked, absolutely exhausted and entirely satisfied. I have submitted to Angelo so deeply I do not mind that he is still using me. I am his to be used, and to be taken by him is all I desire.

I wake up many hours later aching between my thighs, but entirely satisfied. I am aware that there are two other bodies in the bed, Angelo is on my right, and Bobby clearly sneaked in during the night. He has settled on my left and is fast asleep, wearing only boxers. He looks very peaceful and very hot. His body, like Angelo’s, is shaped by cruelty. He wears scars that have been inflicted by enemies and his master alike. I wonder how many more scars I will bear as a result of this life. I wonder where they will be, and what will be taken from me when they are earned.

The deepest, darkest, most terrible thoughts permeate my body as sunlight slowly creeps across the bed. Warm, comfortable, and very much protected between the bodies of two beasts, I go back to sleep.

14

Being part of Angelo’s inner circle means being put to work. He takes good care of his tools, but he makes sure to use them too. I always knew this was not a vacation. I have been rehabilitated by the monster, trained to respond to him as I have never responded to any other.

Angelo calls me to his office one afternoon. I always feel slight trepidation when he does that, even though I know I haven’t done anything wrong. His rules are very clear and for the most part following them is very easy.

I am dressed as he likes me dressed, wearing a pantsuit of sorts, a blazer and black pants made to move in. Underneath, I am wearing a white blouse. I almost look sophisticated, but for the boots that rise to my knees. Those are just bad ass as hell. I feel hot, and sexy, and dangerous. My hair is still short, slicked over into a cross between a schoolboy cut and a pixie style. I’m wearing red lipstick, because it makes me feel feminine. Sometimes I fear losing my femininity and fading into the masculinity of this world and these men.

Angelo is dressed in traditional business style as always. It looks incredibly good on him, and I feel myself swoon when his dark eyes fall on me. The corner of his lips twists slightly upon beholding me. He seems pleased, and that makes me pleased with myself too. Being reacted to favorably by such a powerful, dangerous man is a rush.



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