The Prophet’s Bride 8

881 Words

He bent her over the vanity table, forcing her to look at herself in the mirror. The gold fabric rode up, exposing her ass. He kicked her legs apart with his knee. "Look at yourself," he commanded, his hand coming down on her bare buttock with a sharp smack. Elena gasped, the sting blooming into heat. She looked at her reflection. Her hair was wild, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with desire. She looked like a woman who had been thoroughly kissed. "You look like a sinner," Caleb growled behind her. He reached around and ripped the front of her dress, tearing the sheer gold fabric down the middle. Her breasts spilled out, n*****s hardening in the cool air. He grasped her breasts, squeezing them roughly, pulling her back against his chest. "He wanted you," Caleb whispered in her ear, h

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