Page 119 of Tricked By Jack
Before I’ve fully descended from the peak, Jack spins me around to face him, lifting me with his hands beneath my thighs.
He’s careful to carry all my weight, keeping my back clear of the wall, as he slides back inside me in one smooth motion, the new angle sending aftershocks ricocheting through my oversensitized nerves.
He kisses me mid-thrust, tongue driving in like he’s trying to own my breath. My legs lock around him tighter, needing the kiss almost more than his cock.
“Look at me,” he commands, one hand leaving my thigh to grip my chin, forcing my gaze to his. “See who’s fucking you. Who’s making you feel this good.”
I meet his eyes, refusing to look away even as he resumes his punishing rhythm. His thumb finds my clit again, circling with deliberate pressure that has me gasping and clawing at his shoulders.
“Such a perfect fucking cunt,” he growls, the words filthy, but the tone almost reverent. “So tight. So wet. So goddamn responsive.”
The combination of his cock filling me, his thumb working my clit, pushes me toward a third peak I didn’t think possible. My nails dig crescents into his shoulders, drawing fresh blood that mixes with the water still streaming over us both.
“I’m close,” he warns, his rhythm faltering as his own release approaches. “I want to see my cum all over your face.”
“No,” I gasp, locking my ankles behind his back to prevent retreat. “Inside me. I want you to come inside me.”
His eyes widen fractionally, surprise flashing across his features before being consumed by raw hunger. “You sure about that, wife?”
I don’t know why he’s hesitating now when he’s been fucking me raw all this time. But it’s oddly sweet.
“Fill me up,” I demand, tightening my inner muscles around him in deliberate provocation.
I don’t tell him I’mon birth control. Either he knows, or he doesn’t. Even so, nothing is one-hundred percent certain. But right now, I don’t care about the consequences. I just want to feel his hot cum inside me.
The words trigger something primal in him—his thrusts become erratic, desperate, the metal barbs of his piercing dragging against my inner walls with delicious friction.
My third orgasm builds and breaks in tandem with his, my body milking his release as he erupts inside me with a guttural groan that sounds like my name and a curse combined.
Hot pulses of his cum fill me as my own pleasure crests, my pussy squeezing every drop from him.
Instead of pulling away, he leans in, catching my mouth in a kiss so deep it steals what little breath I have left. His tongue snakes around mine like a final claim—wet, unrelenting, and cruelly tender.
For long moments, ragged breathing and the steady drum of water against tile are the only sounds. It’s… nice doesn’t feel like enough of a description. It’s more than that.
When he finally lowers me to my feet, my legs are unsteady, muscles trembling from exertion and aftermath. His cum trickles down my inner thigh, mixing with water before disappearing down the drain.
The cut still marks my skin, but something fundamental has shifted. I feel less damaged, more whole. Not becausehehealed me—but becauseIallowed myself to let him help me.
“I’m ready,” I whisper, knowing he heard me.
“Are you sure?”
Squaring my shoulders, I lift my chin. “Yes. I’m ready to fucking break her.”
Chapter 37
The Trickster
It’s hard to believe it’s already been ten days since I carried Eve out of the warehouse. And now, I’m watching her dress for dinner.
Her movements are careful but steady, determination threading through each one. This morning Dr. Carmichael removed her stitches, declared our recovery on track, and gave Eve the all-clear.
My wife’s wounds have all closed, leaving behind pink scars that will eventually fade to silver. But some marks go deeper. I see it in the way she pauses before mirrors, in how her fingers sometimes trace the line on her cheek as if to confirm it’s really healed.
A stretch of days can’t erase what Shelby did to her. Maybe nothing will.
“Stop staring,” Eve says without turning, her voice lighter than it’s been in days. She pulls a soft sweater over her head, wincing slightly as she raises her arms. “It’s creepy.”
