Page 65 of Tricked By Jack
The kiss doesn’t stop, even as she sobs into my mouth, her pussy still pulsing around my cock while I empty inside her. The taste of blood, spit, and sex binds us, messy and primal.
Eve collapses onto my chest, my cock still buried inside her, refusing to let her go. When she wiggles like she’s trying to get away, I tighten my grip around her.
“No.” That’s all I say.
She giggles—fucking giggles—and I love it. “Fine, have it your way,” she says, pressing a kiss to one of the marks she left on my chest.
Words don’t do this justice. For the first time since February, the noise in my skull goes quiet. Not peace—fuck no, I don’t get peace—but something sharper. Possession. Control. Eve wasn’t what I thought I wanted, but she’s exactly what I need.
Her cunt still grips me even as I soften, hot and unrelenting, like it refuses to let me go. I don’t pull out. I don’t want to. The thought of leaving her body feels wrong, so I stay buried inside her, locking her to me.
Chapter 22
The Bride
Waking up the next morning, I immediately feel alert. Something is wrong. Like, really,reallywrong.
“Jack?” I call out, but no one answers.
Yawning, I stretch, wincing as my thighs pull tight and a dull ache reminds me of last night. My ass still feels tender, my cunt raw from being used until I broke. I reach out for the metal bars caging me in. But… they’re not there.
My eyes fly open, and when I look around, I realize I’m no longer in the cage. Instead, I’m in Jack’s bed.
“What the hell?” I mutter, wiping sleep from my eyes.
This makes no sense. I fell asleep on his naked chest, covered in blood and sweat, his cum still dripping out of my sore pussy. My skin stings where his studs dragged me raw, my chest still marked by my own scratches against him. It was filthy and perfect.
For the first time, I felt like there was more to him. And to our arrangement—or whatever to call this fucked up situation he’s forced me into.
“Jack?” I shout, my voice louder this time. But there’s still no answer.
With a huff, I get out of bed, taking the sheet with me. My bare feet pad across the hardwood, but a sharp scraping sound makes me freeze. I look down and can’t help laughing hysterically at what I see.
There’s a fucking shackle around my ankle. One that’s tethered to a chain coiling from a bolt in the wall.
“You sly bastard.” I might not be in the cage anymore, but I’m still fucking trapped.
I tug against it, testing, rattling links loud enough to echo through the empty house. No response. No Jack. With a curse, I hitch the sheet higher and march into the bathroom. I half expect the chain to tighten, but it doesn’t. There’s plenty of slack left.
As soon as I’m inside, I slam the door shut, shoving the chain under the gap so it won’t catch. The sheet slips from my body, pooling at my feet, and I step straight into the shower.
Hot water needles my skin, making me hiss when it runs over bruises I didn’t notice until now. Between my legs, the sting is sharper, a reminder of being stretched open again and again.
It doesn’t take long before the spray beats against my shoulders, washing away what can only be described as insanity. Yep, that has to be the reason I did… what I did last night.
With each day that passes being trapped here, I feel my mind getting duller. I’m sleeping more and moving less. Neither is good for my mental health.
I don’t even know when Jack left or where he is. All I know is that when I went to sleep, we were in the cage; I was on his chest, and his cock was still inside me.
But when I woke up, I was in his bed instead of in the cage. And instead of having his body pressed against me, I now have a fucking chain around my ankle. A. Fucking. Chain that’s bolted to the wall.
I guess this is one of those times where I really am a fucking fool. Why did I let my guard down? And more importantly, what did I think would happen? Jack Knight can’t be trusted.
Since my only company is my thoughts, I guess I can admit that he might be… okay, notmight—he definitelyisa good fuck. But that’s it. As a human, he’s pretty fucking shitty.
That disturbing train of thought is further proof Ineed to move, need to… do something. As quickly as possible, I finish my shower and dry off before brushing my teeth.
With nothing else to wear, I grab one of Jack’s oversized t-shirts from the stack he left in here and pull it over my head. The fabric smells like him, clinging to my skin in a way that makes me restless.
