Sinful Ruins And Filthy Desires

Mia's POV The night I caught my fiancé bent over our couch with his best friend’s c**k buried balls-deep in his ass, I knew I was never going through with that wedding. My entire world was shattered in the most humiliating way possible. Two days, two f*****g days before our wedding and he did this? I had stood in the doorway like a ghost, my phone already recording because I needed proof that the man who had sworn he wanted to “wait until marriage” was really bent over, and that I wasn’t hallucinating. He fed me porn and filthy erotic novels for two years, kept me a virgin with sweet promises, while secretly bending over for another man every chance he got. I cried. God, I cried while watching him moan like a w***e, and being f****d like a ragdoll. That same night, I booked a flight to New Zealand with a savage plan to upload the video on what should have been our wedding day, so the whole world could see exactly who Rhoy really was. He thought he could betray me this way and I'd chest it? Never. I was never going to sulk around… in fact, he'd regret it. ***** I took a huge gulp from the whiskey in my hand, a bitter smile on my face. Today was my wedding, but I was here, in the misty countryside near Queenstown, sitting alone at the far edge of the reserve’s bonfire, my back against a tree with my fingers curled tightly around a bottle of whiskey. I was sure the internet was already heating up with Rhoy’s personal porn. Unfortunately, I had tossed my phone aside because distractions weren't welcomed. “f*****g liar.” I laughed bitterly. “I hope you love your wedding gift. Now it's not a secret anymore.” Tears mixed with the whiskey on my lips and I angrily wiped them away, then took another gulp, letting the whiskey burn down my throat. I was just about to take another gulp when the drink was snatched away from my hands. “You look like you're drowning in heartbreak. I can tell by the way you drink.” A raspy voice spoke beside me. My gaze shot up, only to meet that same predatory stare that had followed me since I arrived at the reserve. He was tall, broad-shouldered, thick, dark-haired, and had a sharp jaw which looked like it had been carved. I'd noticed him earlier while I was moving my things into the cabin. He’d been watching me from the hiking trail, never looking away even when I caught his gaze. What was he doing here? “Hey!” I lunged for the bottle, but he lifted it out of reach, a smug smirk on his face. “Easy, you're not about to vent on me.” His voice was low, raspy. The kind they wrote about in books—the kind you only heard in anime. And goodness, it did terrible, filthy things to me. Perhaps I was too invested in porn and erotica that everything was beginning to have an effect on me. All men are the same, Mia. f*****g liars. I reminded myself. “Give it back, I'm fine.” I hiccupped, suddenly dizzy as I stumbled towards him, but the next second, my outstretched hand was pinned behind my back. I gasped, my face flustered. How… how did that happen? What sort of speed was that? He spun me around, pressing my chest against the tree. “Being rude and feisty takes you nowhere, Fleur,” he muttered under his breath, his other hand sliding casually across my bare thigh, fingers rough against my skin. The touch hit me like lightning straight to my core and my p***y clenched so hard I gasped. “What are you doing?” I rasped. “Teaching you politeness.” His palm tightened on my thigh as he slid higher, sneaking his hands beneath my denim skirt. Heat flooded between my legs, a sensation I only felt when I read books. No man, absolutely no man had ever touched me this way. Why was I even aroused when I was supposed to be alarmed? “He’s not worth your tears,” he whispered, his thumb stroking slow circles on the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “I suggest you have… fun. Cry from a different part of this body.” My breath caught. His fingers were so close to where I was already shamefully wet. “How?” I whispered, hating how small my voice sounded. He leaned in until his lips brushed my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. “Pleasure yourself. Punish this pretty body until it forgets his name. Real men make you cry from between your thighs… not your eyes.” He released me and I spun around instantly, my chest rising and falling too quickly. He was insanely handsome up close. Dangerously high cheekbones, full lips, and blue eyes that undid something in me over and over. He pressed the bottle back into my trembling hands, and walked away without another word. I couldn’t breathe. I just stood there, stunned, as I watched him leave. Who was he? Why did he make my heart thump and my core pulsate? What did he do to me? I sat back down, then drank the rest of the contents of the bottle before tossing it aside. “It's the alcohol, Mia, it's the alcohol.” I whispered, watching as the bonfire slowly emptied. Soon it was just me, and the cool night air on my skin. “Real men make you cry from between your thighs, pleasure yourself, punish this pretty body until it forgets his name.” The stranger’s words from earlier echoed in my head. I gulped. Was that really going to help? I didn't have time to think it through because the next second, my hand slipped under my skirt, my legs spread slightly apart. My fingers found my soaked panties and I shoved them aside, gasping as I touched my c**t for the first time with real intent. I was clumsy, inexperienced, circling too fast, then too slow, but the ache was unbearable, and I just went with whatever felt good. I tried to imagine Rhoy, but instead I replayed the stranger's voice and imagined those rough hands instead of mine on my body. “f**k!” A soft moan escaped my lips as my hips rocked against my own fingers. I pushed one finger inside my p***y hole. It was so tight that I whimpered at the stretch. I went slow, then faster… and faster, hissing as I chased the building pressure, my thighs shaking, breath ragged. “Oh god…” I whispered, eyes squeezed shut, as I pictured his blue eyes, his raspy voice talking me through it. “Yes, Fleur, just like that. Mmhhh… faster Fleur, faster.” For a moment there, the voice felt too real. The orgasm hit like a freight train, sharp, sudden, and devastating. Nothing like what those books explained. My back arched off the log, a broken cry tearing from my throat as my p***y clenched and pulsed around my fingers, slick coating my hand, and waves of shameful pleasure crashing through me until I was gasping, trembling, with tears of release falling. I slumped forward, my chest heaving, my mind spinning from the intensity with my fingers still buried inside myself. I couldn’t make myself pull them out. I was weak, way too weak to even move a muscle, so I just lay there.