Page 8 of Jax

After a few minutes of grunts and telling me how sick I am, Psycho starts to shake. His sweaty chest sticks to my back as he lifts his hips to mine. “You’re never going anywhere, Sade,” Psycho growls as he comes inside me again, this time letting the whole building know, dragging it out with long pants and groans. “Myfucking pussy.”

Afterward, his chest heaves into my backside. He trails his fingers down my back before pushing me to a standing position. I stand, semen running down my thigh. Before I can escape, Psycho grabs my hand, “You’ll do better tomorrow. Before I have to really punish you. Right, Sade? I know what makes you wish you were dead. Everything is at stake here. Everything.”

I nod numbly and walk off, leaving my clothes where they are because Psycho will want those panties to treasure and safeguard. Maybe he’ll even give the bra to Tiron as a sick gift.

I pass the horrible cunt licker as he exits the bathroom. He reaches for my hand, and I yank it out of reach. No one but Psycho is supposed to touch me unless they have explicit orders. The infractor gives me a dubious look, then grabs for me again, pulling me close. His hot breath hits my ear. “Next time, just fucking fake it.”

I glare at him. I don’t trust anyone in this place, certainly not one of Psycho’s so-called friends. For all I know, my keeper put him up to this. My lips curve into a cruel smirk. “I don’t need to fake it when Psycho is around. Maybe you need some more practice. Now, fuck off.” I tug my hand back and continue my walk to the room Psycho and I share, hoping to keep my air of authority. When I get there with the door at my back, I slip to the ground, the Berber carpet remnant scratchy on my bare ass. I let the feelings hit me all at once so I can simultaneously turn everything off before I get sick.

Worrying and mulling over the pain I’ve been subject to in this building doesn’t help. There’s no way to go but forward, so I pick apart the experience, but only to see if it provides me with a safe road ahead. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to climax when Psycho was around. I only hope that doing so gives me a little leeway.

The Ring job will not go the way Psycho wants it to. Not by a long shot.

4

That night, while sleeping in the fetal position on a thin as fuck mattress, I dreamed about the last time I saw Jax.

He sat behind a small, dark wood table in a proper suit, looking vastly different than usual. The fancy facade did everything to remind me what we were in the courtroom for. Sitting on the opposite side of the room, I tried and tried and tried to make him someone else. I willed myself to believe he was some guy on the street who’d hurt me, who’d done me wrong like so many had before him. When I was made to stand before him to answer the lawyer’s questions, it was his eyes that got to me the most. They were dead, searing betrayal into me like a raging fire but there was nothing I could do.

Kingston Marx glared at me from the front row. He was my puppet master, pulling strings until I danced and spoke and acted just as he wanted. His crepe-like skin from weight loss was hidden behind an expensive, tailored outfit. The man thought his dick was everything. He was sick, loved beautiful women and power, neither of which he’d get if he wasn’t the leader of the Heights Crew, Rawley Heights’ infamous gang.

Because I was his top girl, I was expected to be his and only his. Jax and I knew we were taking a risk, but we were young and in love. We didn’t know we were being watched by K’s men twenty-four seven. When he confronted me, I did the only thing I could think of to save us. I told him Jax raped me.

Truth be told, I’m not sure the gang leader believed me. He let me go through the motions of accusing Jax, ruining his life, and then when all of it was said and done, he threw me out of the tower anyway. Looking back, I wouldn’t be surprised if he got some sick, perverse pleasure out of watching me ruin Jax’s life, only to cast me aside afterward.

The only thing I’m grateful for is that neither Jax nor I wound up dead, something K easily could’ve made happen.

When Jax walked away in handcuffs, I watched until he disappeared. I made myself focus on what I’d done for our survival instead of the ripping agony that threatened to tear me apart. He never looked back, not even once. At the time, I was grief-stricken, but now that I’m older, I’m glad he didn’t. What was I going to say? I’m sorry? Was I going to give him a look as if he should’ve known I was only doing this to save us?

A rough voice growls in my ear, making my eyes fly open. “You’re awake?”

The mattress on the floor smells musty and old—and of years of sex. I breathe through my mouth as Psycho curls his body around my own. He’s hard. He’s always hard in the mornings. I already brace myself for what’s to come and take my mind somewhere else. Licking my lips, I respond how he wants, “Mm-hmm.”

“You want Daddy’s cock?” he asks. For a minute, I forget to breathe through my mouth and smell his horrid breath instead.

I gag internally but arch into him anyway. If I don’t, he’ll beat my ass. “You know I do.”

He reaches around, moving his fingers between my legs. I sleep naked, at his command, so he goes right for my folds, sighing. “Dry as shit. I thought you wanted me.”

Psycho doesn’t understand a woman’s body. He expects me to be ready for him at a moment’s notice. The act of seduction and foreplay is lost to him.

Not that it would work anyway.

I go somewhere else entirely as he circles my clit and whispers degrading things into my ear. He thrusts his cock into the curve of my ass, moaning. “I got something for you,” he hums in my ear, nipping at my earlobe. He pulls away, and a moment later, a mechanical whir and buzz fills the desolate room. He passes his hand over my hip, and I feel the vibration through his hand.Shit, shit.

“I walked down to the store and bought this.” He places the vibrator on my clit, and I gasp as the sensation ricochets through me. “Mmm, yes. Open up those legs, Sade.” He presses the vibrator on my clit, and I groan, feeling sick to my stomach as pleasure rolls through me. “Fuck yes, baby girl. There’s that wetness. Arch into me.” He slides his cock inside and glides in and out easily with how wet I’ve become.

I curl my hands to fists, biting down on my lip. This is always a dangerous game to play with Psycho. If I don’t show him I’m enjoying it, I get beat. If I do, I lose a part of myself. Now he’s bringing in torture devices because how the hell am I supposed to make my own choices with this type of stimulation. “Fuck,” I breathe, breaths whirring out of me.

“That’s right, girl. Give it to me. I need to feel you around my cock again.”

I practically bite my tongue off but it’s no use. My body flies into an orgasm, and I let him know it, gasping as I succumb. He keeps moving in and out of my wet pussy, and I try to push the vibrator away. He keeps it there, though, unforgiving.

“It’s been forever since you’ve had two.”

“Psycho, I’m good,” I breathe. “Let me pleasure you,” I add, hoping it works. He pulls out, and I brace myself for the slap but it never comes.

“On your hands and knees. Face the door.”

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