20. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Quinn
My throat burns, and my jaw aches from the horrible gag. Talk about fucking degrading. Every movement I make, I’m aware of solid rubber rammed down my throat. This is the small one? I’ll die if he makes me wear anything larger.
But that won’t be an issue, because there’s no way I’ll survive what comes next. He’ll split me in two.
Now that reality is right in front of me and the alcohol buzz has turned into a hangover, I wish I could go back in time and slap myself in the face. I was supposed to be gaining Jacob’s trust. Instead, I’ve screwed everything up, just like I always do. I deserve the ass fucking just for being so goddamned stupid.
He reaches into his little box of nightmares, and I tense. What’s going to come out of there next? A giant spider? It would be about the only thing that could make this night worse.
But it’s worse than a spider. A bottle of lube. He’s really going to do this. I shake my head, but I’m not holding out any real hope. The look in his eyes since I woke up has me on red alert.
If I thought he was scary before, he’s fucking terrifying when he’s mad. It would have been less intimidating if he’d come in ranting and raving. I’d wanted to get under his skin and rile him up. Instead, I’ve created a cold, calculating demon. The gangster who slices bits off you and mails them to your mom.
He taps the bottle. “I’m not a complete monster. I’ll take it slow. Now, roll over and spread your cheeks wide for me. And Quinn?”
I find myself leaning toward his quiet words.
“Do exactly what I say. You really don’t want to push me any further tonight.”
For once, he’s absolutely right. There’s not a single part of me that wants to piss him off any more than I already have. But Jesus fucking Christ, why does he have to make me do this? I can’t imagine anything more humiliating. I hesitate.
“Quinn.”
The single word is an electric shock. I roll onto all fours, trying not to think about the view I’m giving him. It’s not like he hasn’t seen it all before. My face presses into his soft red sheets, creating more pressure on the gag.
Saliva dribbles out around it, and my throat works, desperate to spit it out. God, just to have that pressure out of my throat would feel like the best birthday present ever. My body quivers at the thought of two hours a day in this thing.
But that’s not my immediate concern. Heat rushes to my face as I reach awkwardly behind me and dig my fingers into my ass cheeks, spreading them. He can’t really enjoy this view, can he? He must only be making me do it as a punishment.
A second later, I flinch as cold lube drips between my cheeks, into my hole. He laughs behind me. “Sorry, love. Should have warmed that up for you.”
Sarcastic British bastard.
“I see you took the plug out. You’ll probably regret that.”
He punctuates the words by sliding a finger in, quickly followed by another. The burn isn’t quite as intense as it was the first time—the plug must have done some good after all—but it still makes me gasp around the gag as he twists them inside me.
Nothing should go in there, and he’s rummaging around like he’s every right to do so. Like he wants to stick his whole hand up there.
Oh, Christ. I saw a video of that once. He wouldn’t. Would he? No. Don’t be stupid.
“Tight as fuck. This is going to be a struggle, love. Try to relax.”
His fingers withdraw, and the relief is punctuated with the fear of what comes next. The head of his cock presses between my cheeks, and holy good shit, it feels like a baseball bat. It just thumps against the ring of muscle, a blunt object with absolutely no hope of entry.
It’s impossible. Surely he’ll give up on the whole plan? It’s not going to happen. But his fingers are back, spreading me, and little by little, the impossible happens. My body starts to open up around the tip.
Fuck. No.
My ass screams in protest and I drop my hands to the bed, fists clenching as I stretch.
Ouch.
Ouch.
Ouch.
This isn’t safe. He’s splitting me in two. The pain builds to a red-hot, burning brand. Tears sting my eyes, and I yell into the gag as his fingers roll over my clit. “Shhhh. You don’t get to come, but this will make it better.”
Nothing will make this better. Oh, God, it fucking hurts. But as his fingers work my clit, the edges of the world soften. I breathe into the pain, and wild energy joins it, racing through my body. Heat rushes over my skin, and my head spins as pleasure goes to war with the agony in my ass. It’s nowhere close to eliminating it, but it gives my mind something else to cling to.
“God, Quinn.” Jacob’s voice has lost the cold, cruel edge. He sounds alive again. “I wish you could see how much you’re stretching for me. It’s so fucking hot. You’re the perfect little fuck toy.”
Am I? Am I really? I want to scream at him, tell him how goddamn glad I am that he’s enjoying wrecking me for his own pleasure. But there’s a sick part of me that wraps itself around those words, too. His little fuck toy. Why does that nasty phrase have me pressing into his circling fingers?
He notices and pulls his fingers away from my clit. My body screams in disappointment right as he says, “That’s it, love. I’m all the way in. Breathe.”
He presses hard against me, holding still as my body tries its best to adjust. I’m impaled on an iron spike with no relief in sight. I try to take his advice, drawing in deep, ragged breaths through my nose.
“Good girl.” He explores my pussy. “And look at this. Soaking wet. You like me using you? What a shame I can’t fuck this hot little pussy tonight. If you’d behaved, that was the plan. But bad girls get punished.”
He starts to move, and Christ, I can’t take it. I can’t take any more. He starts slow, and I swear I feel every movement in my goddamn stomach. He’s rearranging my insides, and it's too much. I twist the sheets in my hands.
As if he senses the moment I start to panic, his fingers find my clit again. The sudden flare of needy pleasure dulls the pain, and my body relaxes. The rhythm of his thrusts becomes bearable, a thudding counterpoint to the movement of his fingers.
His little fuck toy. That’s what I feel like as my body jerks every time he slams against me. As he speeds up, it all merges together. Pain, punishing thrusts, and building need. It’s a whirlwind in my head, and I lose myself in it.
His breathing grows strained, and he freezes his hand, just pressing on my clit instead of rubbing it. No! God-fucking-damnit. The bubble of pleasure bursts, my clit pulses angrily, and the pain in my ass comes back into sharp relief. My body screams, stretched beyond its limits, as he slams all the way in with a groan.
I can feel it, him shooting inside me. Filling me up. Jesus. How is there space with him crammed in? He holds there, panting, and it doesn’t feel like he’s gotten any softer. Oh no. Is he one of those marathon men that can go for a second round without a break? I’ll die. I’ll actually die.
Mercifully, thank whatever mythical being is watching over me in this goddamn place, he plants a kiss on the back of my head and murmurs, “Well, I enjoyed that. And that’s what matters.”
The teasing note is in his voice again, and even though I want to slap him for what he said, it’s a hell of a relief. That other Jacob, the cold, mean one, scares the shit out of me.
He extracts himself slowly, and I wince as he pulls free. Everything back there feels weird. Stinging, sore, and somehow open.
He draws in a sharp breath. “Fuck, you’re gaping. Maybe I should plug you up, keep all that come inside you for a while?”
My pathetic whine makes him chuckle. “No, you’re right. Too much for your first time. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
That turns out to be a messy process, but ten minutes later, I’m back on the sofa, clean, as Jacob finally unfastens the gag and pulls it out. Oh, the relief. I work my jaw and stare at the thing. Nowhere near as large as I’d been imagining.
He hands it to me, and I turn it over in my fingers as he fetches me a huge glass of icy water. I down it before I try to speak, the water cool on my throat. Jacob takes the gag out of my hand. “This was too easy. We’ll size you up to the next one tomorrow.”
“Wonderful,” I mutter, shifting on the sofa. My ass hurts, and I’m getting cold. Jacob snorts and pulls me against him. I cuddle in, lacking the energy to fight and not really wanting to. I’m pissed off, but he’s warm and comfy. I could fall asleep.
He yawns, and I’m sure he’ll order me into bed, but he sighs. “I’ve gotta go. Someone shot at me and Seb tonight, and he should be in custody now.”
My eyes fly open, sleepiness banished. “What?”
“Yep. After my speech.”
“Is Seb okay?” I shouldn’t care. He’s part of this woman-stealing cabal of psychos. But I can’t shake the fact that he was nice to me.
Jacob twines a hand into my hair, stroking through it in a soothing way that makes me want to purr. “He’s fine. And I am too, thanks for asking.”
“Injured men don’t fuck like you just did.”
“You’d be surprised. Nothing like a near-death experience to invigorate you.”
My mind is reeling, and despite myself, I’m drawn into the drama of it all. It’s like a movie, only I’m in it instead of watching. “Was it the same person who put all the bad stuff about you online?”
His hand stills. “Maybe. That’s what I need to find out.” He gently shifts me off him and gets to his feet. “You’re going in your cage till I get back.”
I stiffen, and my muscles cry out in protest. I’d been looking forward to Jacob’s cozy bed, and the thought of being locked in a cold cage has my heart hammering. “Please, don’t.”
“I have to, love. You can’t be trusted yet. You need to earn it back.”
“You can put the collar on me. I won’t be able to move.”
He arches one thick brow. “So now you like your collar? Just this morning, you were giving me shit for it.”
“It’s better than the cage. Please.”
His face hardens, a little of the scariness returning. “You don’t get to sleep in my bed after what you did. Not tonight. Now get in the cage, or I’ll drag you in.”
After what I did? So I destroyed some sentimental things. I’m the captive here. I’m the person who had her goddamn life ripped away. Fuck this. But I get to my feet anyway. What he’s doing is working. He’s drilling obedience into me one punishment at a time.
The cage door looms, and I crawl in jerkily. It’s large enough for me to sit up but not stand. If my back is against the bars, my toes just touch the other side. Jacob smiles as he looks at me in it. “You’re lucky. It was sized for someone eight inches taller. It’s practically a palace for you.”
“Oh, yes. A freezing cold, lockable palace.” I shiver, and he frowns. Without locking the door, he heads to the wardrobe and pulls out a weird, flannelette monstrosity covered in stripes. Something an old man would wear.
He throws it into the cage. “Here. Take my dressing gown.”
His voice is gruff. I slide my arms into sleeves that could easily fit both of my legs and wrap the soft material around me. “Where did you get this? Was a nursing home having a yard sale?”
Me and my stupid mouth. Even locked in a cage, I can’t control it. Jacob laughs, though. “A birthday pressie from Grandad. Ugly as fuck, but it’s warm.”
I pull the hood up and curl my legs into it. A soft look passes over Jacob’s face, quickly wiped away. He hands the special phone he gave me through the bars. “Call me if there’s any problems.”
I nod, eyes already growing heavy.
Jacob cracks his knuckles and changes as I watch him, his face going blank, his eyes turning cold. I shiver despite the cozy dressing gown. I’m glad it’s not going to be me on the receiving end of that look.