Chapter 10
10
Aviva
T he gentleness in Jack’s voice had disappeared. He was angry. Angry, and he had no right to be.
So I didn’t answer him.
He gripped my wrist tighter, maybe in punishment. “Who is Tom, Aviva?”
“My ex-boyfriend.” He didn’t deserve to know that we hadn’t gotten further than the condom.
Jack relaxed his hold but didn’t release my wrist. “I’m going to make this clear, so there’s no confusion: while you’re my little filthy sex toy, there’s no one else. No one touches this pussy, you hear me? You get permission from me if you need to see your fucking gynecologist. Understood?”
“Yes, master,” I spat, enraged at the control he’d taken away from me.
He finally released my wrist, satisfied. “I like that. You can call me master whenever you want, princess .” Sitting back, he crossed his arms behind his back. “You’re holding it right. Just put it over the top of my cock and slowly roll it down.”
Gritting my teeth, I placed the condom on top of his dick, trying not to react to how hard and hot it was. Slowly, carefully, I rolled the condom down the thick length, hating the way it felt in my hand, how I could still feel the ridges and curve through the latex. How gorgeous Jack looked when he closed his eyes and hummed at the feeling of my hand around him. His lashes were long, curly, black; his sculpted face with its hard, sharp angles more pronounced in his pleasure.
I hated him so much.
My body must not have agreed. I could feel wetness drip down my pussy to my thighs. I shouldn’t have been this turned on again after coming already, but then what did I know about orgasms? What did I know about any of this?
Jack’s eyes opened. They were a stormy, lust-clouded gray. The kind of eyes you could easily get lost in.
If the circumstances were different.
If he were a different sort of man.
“Climb on.”
I stilled.
I’d assumed he’d fuck me in missionary the first time, maybe even from behind. But this, making me get on top… he really was making me play a role in my own demise. I hated it, hated him, but I had no choice. It was either this or saying goodbye to my dreams—and Asher’s.
Awkward and embarrassingly shy, I put my hands on his shoulder for balance and lifted one leg over his spread ones, then the other, until I was straddling him, my thighs burning from the stretch. Jack didn’t assist me, just held his cock in place as I hovered over him, avoiding contact with the tip of his cock .
“That won’t do,” he tsked. “Time is ticking; get to work.”
Shutting my eyes, I tried to block everything out as I lowered myself onto him. It was a mistake. Closing my eyes only heightened the sensations: the feel of his crown pressing against my entrance, the tight, immediate pain as he entered me, the fullness as I let myself slide down. It hurt , having him inside me. And what was worse? The pain stirred something inside, a spark, a tingle of terrible pleasure.
Jack groaned, hard and deep, only making that pleasure worse. “Fuck, you’re so goddamned tight. How long has it been?”
I didn’t answer, because the answer was “forever.” Not only had I never had sex before, I’d doubted I ever would. Tom’s disgust with my scar had done a real number on me, and my insecurities piled up so high, I’d never thought I’d be in a relationship again.
This wasn’t a relationship. This was prison.
As if Jack had heard me, he wrapped a hand around my throat. “Eyes on me, princess.”
I obeyed him, and we stared at each other, his face tight. “You may be a little lying spy, but this cunt is honest. I can feel how wet you are, even through the condom. You like this, don’t you? I’m barely inside you and you’re already about to come again.”
I opened my mouth to reject his words, only to lose them in his mouth. He was kissing me, no lead up or preamble, just his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, licking, tasting, owning me. Jack was evil, but he knew how to kiss. My pussy wasn’t honest, but it was a traitor. It softened further, grew wetter, allowing me to sink down the last couple of inches until Jack was all the way inside me, so deep, I could feel him in my throat .
I cried out into his mouth, half in pain, half in pleasure, and he swallowed the sound whole.
Finally releasing my mouth, he whispered a low, guttural order into my ear, making me shiver.
“Move.”
I raised up, his cock slowly sliding out of me, then lowered back down, still slowly but more easily this time. I was sure my movements were awkward, jerky. They couldn’t have felt good but Jack’s moans and groans and growls suggested differently.
I moved up and down, the movement becoming easier, smoother. Each time, the curve of his cock hit that same part of me he’d stroked with his fingers earlier. I couldn’t control the sounds I was making.
“Fuck, that’s right, princess. Keep whimpering like that. Keep proving how good this feels for you. You must hate it, something so bad feeling so good.” Under his breath, he added, “I know I do.”
So he hated me as much as I hated him.
With that, he fell silent, and it was just his eyes on mine, his loose grip on my neck, the feeling of him inside me, the sounds we made as I moved over him. Something was different. The night in the locker room had felt shocking, fast, like I couldn’t keep up with what was happening. Today felt sharper, clearer; almost like every thrust, every grind, every groan, every whine happened in slow motion, and I was helpless to speed up my humiliation and instead had to experience every second of it as Jack reveled in my suffering. What’s more, I couldn’t distance myself from it. I was fully present for every moment.
Jack wasn’t done verbally torturing me. “How does it feel, knowing you’re doing all the work? I’m not fucking you, Aviva. You’re the one fucking me. Your cunt is swallowing my cock every time, like a greedy little bitch. You’re dripping all over me. Can’t you smell it, how turned on you are? I can.”
“Shut up,” I told him.
He hummed. “Now, that’s not very nice. Maybe I should’ve made you lick up your come from the floor. Maybe I’ll make you lick up mine.”
Oh, god.
I clenched around him.
His eyes went bright with triumph. “You like that? Like being humiliated? You are a dirty little princess, aren’t you? Nothing more than my filthy sex toy.” With his free hand, he slapped my ass. “Now, bounce. It’s your job to get me off, and you need to work harder, or I’ll fuck your little virgin asshole instead.”
Oh god, oh god.
I clenched around him again.
He hummed. “Interesting.”
Needing to shut him up, I started bouncing up and down on his cock, faster and faster. I already was close to the edge, and now an orgasm yawned before me, a deep, unfamiliar, terrifying abyss I was determined not to fall into.
“I don’t want to come.” The words popped out before I could stop them.
A slow grin spread across his face. “Too fucking bad.”
He began slapping my ass, urging me on. I had no choice. He hadn’t given me one, and neither would my body. Our skin slapped together, his balls against my ass. Trying to stave off the orgasm, I teetered on the edge, the spanking also urging me on.
Jack must have decided I wasn’t moving fast enough. He released my throat, gripping my hips and taking over my movements, lifting me up and shoving me down so fast I couldn’t track the movements anymore. Everything became a blur, my body moving over his, the feeling of his cock inside me; the only clear constant were his eyes as they grew darker, darker.
“I can feel you clenching around me. You’re so close, aren’t you? Come, Aviva. Fucking come, little spy, or you won’t like what happens next.”
With those words, he lifted his hips for the first time, thrusting up and in me, so deep, hitting me just there, just right. With a sound I didn’t recognize, I came, the chasm welcoming me into its unfamiliar depths, a hole I might never find my way out of.
Jack growled, low and rough, holding my hips tight against his as he somehow shoved even deeper inside me, reaching a depth that hurt so good, I came again. Or maybe I had never stopped the first time. I felt heat through the condom.
“Fuuuuuuuuuck,” he said, relaxing under me, his fingers stroking my hips in a soothing caress that made me want to recoil. I wasn’t even sure he even knew he was doing it, but I didn’t care.
I struggled to lift off of him.
He didn’t release me.
“Not yet, little spy,” he crooned. “I want to feel your aftershocks. Besides, haven’t you heard of aftercare?”
“Have you?” I tried to retort, but my voice had taken on a soft, dreamlike quality.
He chuckled. “Look how sweet you are post orgasm. Like a small, defenseless kitten. You purr so nicely.”
But he released my hips. Holding the condom in place, I raised my hips and his cock, now soft, slid out of me. I stood on shaky legs .
Jack looked down at his softened cock. His eyes went wide.
“Are you on your period or something?”
“Or something,” I muttered, too tired and overwhelmed to bother to keep my virginity a secret from him any longer.
Ex-virginity, now.
“So you were a virgin,” he said, and there was a look in his eyes I couldn’t read.
But whatever it was, it scared me.
“I want to fuck you all over again,” he groaned, dragging a finger through the blood on the condom.
And then, to my utter shock, he lifted his bloody finger to his mouth…
…and sucked.
“Such a fucking sweet cherry,” he growled, and his eyes flashed silver. “And mine. All mine. You hear me, princess? This means you belong to me now. Some other asshole touches you, this Tom comes near you?” he sneered. “I’ll motherfucking destroy him.”
Standing, he disposed of the condom while I grabbed my clothes and pulled them on jerkily. I felt sick and elated, like I wanted to laugh or cry or scream, I wasn’t sure. At least he hadn’t taken my shirt off. At least my scar was still a secret from him.
I snorted to myself. What a pathetic silver lining.
Jack rose and dressed, but before I could follow suit, he was pulling me into his arms. Being held by him was disconcerting. Especially when he awkwardly rubbed my back and dropped a reluctant-seeming kiss on my forehead. The softness, the gentleness…it opened a gaping wound inside of me, because part of me longed for his tenderness to be real, even though I knew it was just one more way to mess with my head .
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
“Aftercare. You’ve never had sex before, it’s right that I hold you,” he muttered, although he sounded confused himself. Pulling back, he lifted my chin. “In fact, you’re coming home with me, princess.”
Oh, shit, what time was it? I swallowed, glancing around. It was dark out; the clock in the corner said 7 p.m. I had half an hour to get to the bar for my shift.
“I can’t,” I told him.
“What did I say about you telling me no?”
“I can’t,” I repeated, freaked out. “I have to go to work. Some of us need to work.”
He glared. “You think hockey isn’t work?”
“I don’t want to talk about hockey right now. I need to go.”
Surprisingly, he released me, watching as I gathered up my clothes and dressed.
“Where do you work? I can give you a ride.” He grinned, standing and stretching. “Another one, I mean.”
I’m sure he could. “None of your business.”
Surprisingly, he let it go.
“Alright, Aviva. You can run away. I’ll find you later.”
With those foreboding words, I grabbed my bag and left the room, leaving Jack behind…
…for now.