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He pushes three fingers roughly into my pussy and thrusts in and out, his thumb rubbing my clit. I arch up. Then he stops, gets off his seat and comes in between my legs, fingers buried deep in me, and at this angle, it’s deep, pushing against everything. Both he and Hendrick don’t have small anything, and more than two fingers fills me up.
Jac parts his fingers and starts to scissor fuck, rubbing my G-spot, my clit, and the back of my pussy tunnel, like he’s giving me some kind of pussy through to anus massage and it’s beyond electric. I’m jerking my hips, unable to stop, unable to make him do something else. I’m helpless against this violent, nerve-torturing onslaught that’s equal parts exquisite pleasure and exquisite overload.
It's not orgasmic; it just holds that promise and that’s the torture. He fucking knows it. I grit my teeth.
“I fuck, MG. To my pleasure. My wants, and you…you fucking push me.” He starts to change the strokes, and a wave of relief washes over me, tinged with the heated tingle of orgasmic arousal, like he’s set me on the right path instead of bypassing that point.
Then he changes it again, and I cry out because he’s back to the exquisite torture.
“Jac! Stop! I can’t!”
“Oh, but you can.” He keeps it there, on that precipice, thrusting in and out, hitting all those places, in long hard, rough, slow strokes. “Why did you take my phone?”
“Why the fuck don’t you just keep it on face recognition?”
“Not your fucking business.” He leans over me and starts to kiss me slowly, and it’s so at odds with the violent pleasure pain he’s bringing on inside me that I think I come.
Think because there’s an explosion of overloaded pleasure, but it’s gone so fast that I’m left with only more live wire nerves.I feel like he’s got me strapped to some kind of electrical current torture device.
“Jac, please…” I’m crying. My eyes blur, and my throat closes, and when he kisses me, I lose my fucking mind. I try and devour him then and there because his mouth and tongue are life. Are sweet pleasure.
“Why, MG?” he whispers against my lips right before kissing me again, soft little raindrop kisses that turn me inside out. “What are you up to?”
“I used it to get the security codes. Recorded the pings when the security—oh god—it’s a trick, the sounds—fuck me—of the keypad—”
He stops. Shuts everything down, but his fingers remain in me, and I gasp for breath as my body settles and a sweet pleasure spreads.
“You’re not going back in there, MG. You have the necklace.”
I lift my hips because perversely I want him to give me more. “I wanted the fake.”
“Greedy, MG. You’re greedy.” He smirks. “Put it on. I want to see you in it.”
Jac pulls his fingers free of me, gets out the necklace, and puts it on me. Then he spreads my dress open completely so he can take in all of my nakedness.
“You’d look better in the Heart of Dark Desires.”
He viciously twists a nipple, and I suck in a breath as an arrow of hot delight shoots right through me. Jac is a bastard, and I need his dangerous edge. Just like I need the measured control of Hendrick.
Neither man is safe. They offer their own threats in the sexual realm, threats my heart and clit beat for. Jac carries the thrill of real violence. Hendrick the psychological. With Hendrick I know I don’t need the safe word, but it’s there because he might just stretch me to my limits and beyond. Jac?I know I need one, and I know he doesn’t give a fuck. And somehow, I understand that, crave it, too. As long as he doesn’t cross that hard line in anger.
Like he did that one time.
I’m just fucked in the head, and he knows it.
He dips his fingers back in my pussy and starts to paint me in my juices, to show me how wet I get for him.
“Where are we going?” he asks.
It takes me a moment. Because the fucker’s painting my juices on my clit, and then he spits on it to rub himself on me, too. It’s disgusting on all the levels it’s meant to be. The disrespect of such an act, the second time he’s done that to me, the weird taboo of spitting, the crassness, and it all crashes together into something so hot, I cry out as I spasm in an orgasm.
“I need…Hendrick’s.”
Anger flashes at the mention of his name. “He’s not there. You think you know him, but you don’t. You think I’m depraved.”
“You are, Jac.”
He leans in to suckle a nipple, then he bites and pulls. “I know.” He’s so close to me that as he raised his green eyes, everything in me flips and burns. “Hendrick’s also depraved. I read my sister’s diary. I read the fucked-up shit they did with others. Threesomes. Sometimes he’d fuck her and another woman. Or he’d let another man fuck her.”
