Page 41 of Tricked By Jack
“Tell me you don’t want it,” I order, fingers relentless. “Say you hate it while you fucking come on my fingers.”
“I… fuck… I hate you,” she grits out, voice cracking.
Groaning, I finger her soaked cunt faster. “Hate has nothing to do with it, wife. You’re going to come on my fingers like the filthy little liar you are.”
Her body jerks—sharp, involuntary. A cry tears loose as her climax crashes through her, raw and violent. She convulses beneath me, every muscle drawn tight as I work her through it, not letting up even as her breath comes in sobs.
“That’s it,” I whisper, dragging it out until she shakes. “You can hate me all you want, but your pussy loves me.”
Instead of giving her time to recover, I stand, hauling her to her feet in one fluid motion and pushing her the last way toward the cage.
At the threshold, she makes her last stand.
Eve grips the top bars, arms straightening with desperate strength to keep herself anchored outside. Her naked body arches against mine, every muscle hard as stone, her feet planted wide forleverage. The heat of her skin sears through my clothes as she thrashes backward, trying to throw me off balance.
“Please don’t, Jack. I p-promise I’ll be good.”
Her voice cracks, but her grip is iron. I hook my arm around her waist and yank her back flush to me, feeling her heartbeat slam against my ribs. Her hair whips across my jaw as she jerks her head from side to side.
“Don’t make me drag you in there,” I murmur against her ear. “Because I will, and it won’t be pretty.”
She kicks once more, catching my thigh with her heel. Pain blooms sharp and immediate, and I respond by prying her fingers from the bars one by one, slow enough for her to know she’s losing. Her nails scrape metal with a desperate screech before I break her hold completely.
With a final surge of force, I shove her into the cage, her knees hitting the floor with a thud. She scrambles for the door, but I’m already out, swinging it shut. The lock clicks with quiet finality, echoing in the small space like a gunshot.
Eve launches herself at the bars, fingers curling around the metal as she shakes the door with surprising strength. She screams then, the sound primal and raw, tearing from her throat with violent force. Her hands slam against the bars, knuckles whitening with the pressure.
“You fucking monster! This isn’t legal, this isn’t—”
“Legal?” I laugh, the sound soft and genuine. “Eve, nothing about tonight was legal.”
Her eyes dart to the bowls in the corner of the cage. Understanding dawns in her expression, horror chasing close behind. “Food bowls?” Her voice breaks on the words. “Like I’m an animal?”
“Pretty fitting with how you’re behaving.” I smirk.
She sinks to her knees then, hands still gripping the bars. Something collapses in her, making her shoulders curve inward as reality settles into her bones. It’s fascinating to see the fight and adrenaline leave her.
“Why me, Jack? What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?” she whispers, and for the first time, there’s something beneath the anger. “When you wanted my help, I tried to help you. I haven’t done anything to deserve this.”
I crouch down to her level,meeting her eyes through the bars. “Exactly,” I agree mockingly. “You’re the doctor who does nothing.”
Shaking her head, she swallows audibly. “You won’t get away with this,” she warns, but the fire has dimmed to embers. Exhaustion is taking over as the fight leaves her system.
“I already have.”
Chapter 14
The Trickster
The quiet stretches are getting longer. Not silent—she still screams, still kicks the bars hard enough to bruise—but the bursts are farther apart now. I can’t tell whether she’s pacing herself or conserving rage.
Like me, Eve hasn’t slept. I’m pretty sure half of her reason for constantly making noise is to make sure I don’t. Little does she know I don’t need her help to stay awake. Since Ruby’s death, I only sleep a couple of hours a night unless I’m drunk off my ass, which I haven’t been for months.
I’ve been in the living room for hours—shirtless, hunched over a half-empty bottle, listening to her come undone one scream at a time. Sometimes I hear her pacing, and not in a way that comes from restlessness. She wants me to wonder what she’s planning.
It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I brought her here. Twice she’s demanded to be let out to use the bathroom, and I’ve obliged.
Eve still hasn’t touched the food and refuses to drink water unless it comes in a sealed bottle. The latter is smart, but the former is fucking stupid.
