Page 38 of Tricked By Jack
His movements slow but don’t stop as he takes my left hand in his, holding it steady as he slides the ring onto my finger. It’s heavy and cold, feeling like a shackle more than a piece of jewelry.
Another attendant approaches with something that glints in the candlelight—a thin black chain from which hangs a small glass vial. Inside, I can see a dark liquid swirling. Our blood. My Groom pauses long enough to cut the medallion from my neck, replacing it with the new chain.
Then he grinds deeper, his cock thick and twitching inside me, his breath rasping over my skin like a brand still smoking. I can feel every twitch, every pulse, like I’m being marked from the inside out.
The crowd watches, their attention fixed on what appears to be a solemn exchange of tokens, unaware of the true consummation happening before their eyes. At least I hope they’re unaware.
I bite down on a whimper as he shifts his angle, finding that devastating spot again. “N-no.” My fingers curl into fists at my sides, nails digging half-moons into my palms as he thrusts slowly and deeply, dragging pleasure from my body like a confession.
“Yes,” he growls, voice thick and ragged. “Come on my cock, wife. Drench my fucking balls with your arousal.”
I’m not his wife. I’m just… not.
I hate him. I hate him for doing this. For… my thoughts are cut off as pleasure detonates inside me—violent, electric, absolute. My vision whites out, and my knees go weak.
“Fuck!” I cry out as I shatter, loud, broken, and raw.
My body convulses around him, back arching as my sobs dissolve into filthy, half-formed moans. I can’t stop. Can’t stop pulsing around him, spasming so hard it hurts. My gasps and moans echo across the stage, into the watchers, into the dark.
He holds me through every humiliating second of it, murmuring that I’m his and that there’s no escape. He keeps me standing through it, grinding slower now, cruel in his tenderness.
I don’t know where I am anymore—on a stage, in his arms, in a nightmare I almost begged for. The crowd feels unreal. The heat between my legs doesn’t.
As soon as my breathing returns to normal, his movements become erratic, his control finally breaking as he drives into me harder, faster. His cock swells, stretching me wide and brutal, each inch a demand my body can’t refuse.
I bite down on a cry as heat pulses between my legsagain, shame curling tighter with every surge of him inside me.
The hard edge of the mask bumps against my neck as he breaks with a groan—rough, raw, guttural—his cock jerking as he pumps thick, scalding cum into me wave after wave. My pussy clenches around the heat like it belongs there.
Then, with a final rasped breath, he pulls out of me, and I feel him tucking his cock away. “Fuck, your cunt’s something else.” The deep timbre of his voice makes my inner walls flutter in response.
After rearranging my dress so the skirt covers my ass, he repositions us so we’re face-to-mask. I don’t know how to feel as I look at my Groom now, after he just fucked me like that.
A bright light blinds me, and I close my eyes for a brief moment. Just as I’m about to open them, his distorted voice rasps through the filter, “Till death, Eve.”
The hooded priest lifts his arms, voice cutting through the murmur of clapping like a blade through silk. “It is done. What was separate is now bound. What was free is now claimed for all eternity in this unholy matrimony.”
When the priest steps back, my Groom reaches up and removes his mask… and the world tilts.
Jack Knight stares back at me, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth as if this has all been a private joke. “Surprise, wife.”
My knees threaten to give way. I don’t even have time to curse before his lips crush against mine, sealing not just the marriage, but my fate.
He kisses me hard, brutally so. Each swipe of his tongue against mine is like a brand burned into my soul. My gasp gets swallowed by his mouth, my protest silenced by the sharp crush of teeth and tongue. I lose myself for a second in it—shocked, breathless, overwhelmed.
I hear a click, but then it’s drowned out by applause from the audience I’d forgotten about. Jack breaks the kiss and turns us so we’re facing the onlookers below the stage. My lips are parted, kiss-bruised and stinging.
“You’re mine now. Let them see it.” His voice is silk soaked in ash.
For some reason, I nod. I fucking nod like I agree,which I don’t.
“Do it,” Jack says.
“Do what?” I ask, confused by what it is he wants me to let them see.
But when I feel someone move behind me just as Jack winds his arm around my shoulders and holds me close, I realize he wasn’t talking to me at all. I try to look behind me, but Jack’s words stop me.
“It’ll be easier if you stand still,” he growls.
