I have peculiar tastes when it comes to sex.

I don't want gentle nor a boring missionary, a fact that my husband cannot understand. He wants it quick and simple; a series of grunting and it's done while I lay there, unsatisfied after he finishes. 

I want to be tied in ropes. 

I want to be gagged and choked and thoroughly fucked until I cannot orgasm anymore. 

Most of all, I want to be manhandled. For someone to use me as a fuck toy and cream pie on my pussy. 

Translation: I like it rough and messy.

Theo will never have the qualities to do that.

He was a good Christian boy; my husband and I cannot fault him. He was too nice for me and my peculiar thoughts that involves more than laying open and taking it. Theo was too kind and perhaps too good for my undying appetite. 

That's why I do not blame him when his gentle strokes didn't make me come. 

Not really. 

But after 3 years of unhappy marriage and unfulfilling orgasms, I decided to finally come here. The place of sinners to seek for what I'm searching for too long. 

A woman deserves a bit of enjoyment after a fresh divorce. Right?

'Come closer if you want to sin' was posted in front of the large, gothic building in large letters that was unmistakable. 

I hesitated, guilt and conscience warring in me before I decided to take my first step towards the unwelcoming entrance of the building. It's dark inside and if it wasn't for my sources, I would assume that the place was entirely abandoned.

"A woman with a pale, ivory skin…" 

a sudden male voice echoed through the empty building when I stepped in and the rusty doors slammed shut behind me. 

I squeaked, clutching my bag tighter and looking around for the first time. I am entirely alone in a strange place and the so called 'Hades' as my only companion. 

I stepped deeper and I squinted at the sudden brightness of the hearth where a man was slouched in his seat, his back to me and looking at the fire. 

It's dark everywhere, except for the hearth. 

And were all alone, I dimly realized. 

I swear, my libido will someday be my death. Maybe that day would be today. 

"You have a soft skin, my dear. Do you want it bruised?" 

The man didn't move from his seat. I swallowed, before cautiously approaching. 

It would be a lie if I said that the mystery and risk of it is not turning me on. Fear, after all, make my panties soaking wet. 

Yeah, I'm weird like that.

"Come closer" he purred in that velvety voice of his and I placed one foot after another until I reached him.

I didn't dare look at him. Instead, we both stared at the flame of the hearth before I felt his gaze on the side of my face. 

Observing. Surveying. Devouring.

"You're here to be corrupted, my innocent one" he drawled. 

"Do tell me, does your husband not satisfy your needs or does he even know you're here?"

"I have the money for your discretion" I replied. 

His laughter, smooth and manly rang and I have to squeeze my legs together just by listening to it. If he can make me wet just by talking and laughing, imagine what his fingers can do. 

I shook these thoughts away, masking my eagerness underneath a façade of seriousness. 

"I have no need for your money, love. I just want to fuck the brains out of someone and corrupt them"

I gasped when long fingers clutched the side of my face, roughly yanking me to stare at a pair of hungry green eyes. It took me a moment to take every detail in my mind. 

Sharp jaw. High cheekbones and hunter eyes filled with lust and malice. 

Breath-taking. 

Beautiful. 

Devil. 

I exhaled a shaky breath when those full red lips stretched into a feline grin. 

"You want that, don't you, church girl?" he moved his face closer. 

I held my breath when he stared down at my parted lips before slipping his thumb inside it. 

The size of it is long enough to reach the back of my tongue and he pressed firmly, making me gag. 

I whimpered. 

"Eve ripe for sinning" he murmured, suddenly rising from the seat to his full height. 

I almost choked in trepidation and for the first time felt true fear at this entire ordeal. Even with my 4-inch-high heels, the top of head only reached his throat. 

And oh, my lord. 

He is massive. 

I eyed his large biceps straining against his dress shirt that can easily restrain me. 

His hands that can choke my throat and his insistent bulge pressing on my stomach that would be my ruin. 

My pupils dilated when he removed his thumb inside my mouth, trailing saliva down my chin.

"And you've come for a taste of the apple" he chuckled when I whimpered again.

His fingers unslung my bag from my shoulder and I let it drop to the floor with a thud.

"No turning back, sweet Eve" he warned and I nodded. 

He grinned triumphantly and that's the warning I've got before I knew that I am fucked. 

Literally and metaphorically. 

Ps: dear reader, I wrote this bc I'm horny hh