Chapter 7 Bitter Pills #3
I'm not alone in the room. A dark figure stands in the corner, his face covered, watching me.
I can barely breathe; I don't dare move.
I don't want to alert him to my consciousness—I'm too afraid of what will happen next.
Minutes go by like this before finally, slowly, the figure approaches the side of the bed.
My heart thuds against my ribcage. He's close enough now that he could reach out and touch me. Unable to hold it in any longer, I open my mouth and scream.
"Help!" I shout. "Someone help me!"
He lunges for me, and I flail wildly, attempting to kick him off, but it's useless. He grabs me by my ankles, pulling me from the bed, and I hit my head on the hardwood floor. Stars form behind my eyelids as I continue to scream, and the masked figure drags me toward the back door.
"Saige!" someone calls out. I think it's Dax, but I must have hit my head too hard, because his voice is distant and distorted, and this time, when I open my mouth to scream, nothing comes out.
The man pulls me through the sliding door, but we aren't in the backyard anymore—we're in the forest, rounding the side of a familiar rundown cabin, and I know what happens next.
But I can't scream. My brain tells my body to kick, to fight, to grab onto trees and rocks, anything to stop it from happening, but my limbs are like boulders. As hard as I try to lift them, they refuse to move. And I can hear the water now.
Silent tears roll down my cheeks as I accept my fate. He drops me right at the precipice, and I try to pull myself up, but again, I can't make my body move.
I look up at the man, my eyes pleading with him to stop before he kicks me over the edge. And finally, as I plummet into the abyss, I manage to scream.
"Saige!"
Awareness returns to my body. Still screaming and flailing, I open my eyes. Dax sits on my legs, straddling me while holding my arms down at my side.
"Wake up!" he shouts as I thrash on the bed, tears running down my cheeks. "Are you awake?"
I nod, choking back a sob. "Yeah..."
"Hey, you're okay. You're okay; it was just a dream."
"It didn't feel like a dream."
He releases me and crawls under the blankets, gathering me in his arms and holding me against his bare chest. I lean into it, letting myself sob against his chest.
"It's all right. You're safe."
"No, I'm not. I'm not safe."
"Yeah, you are," he whispers. "It's all in your head, baby." He places his hand on my cheek, wiping a tear from under my eye with his thumb. "You just need to turn it off."
"I don't know how."
"I can help you."
He trails his hand down my neck and then over my chest, toying with my nipple through the thin material of my t-shirt. I hold my breath while he lingers there, rolling the point between his thumb and first finger, his eyes locked on mine in the dark space, and only exhale when he releases it.
But that hand continues roaming over my body—down my stomach before dipping inside my t-shirt and then under the waistband of my underwear.
I gasp when his fingers find my pussy, gliding over my wet center, petting me—applying just a little bit of pressure to my clit, tracing my entrance without pushing inside me, and then slowly repeating the sequence.
"Dax…" I start. "I don't—"
"Shhh," he says, brushing my hair away from my face with his other hand.
"Turn it off, Saige. Just relax; I know it feels good.
I know what I'm doing. Your pussy is so soft and wet.
Fuck…" His thumb circles my clit with the kind of precision that causes me to whimper, whether I want to or not.
"It's all I've thought about since I came down your throat. Open your legs a little more for me."
I almost listen. My head is swimming; I barely stop my knees from falling apart. I don't want to fuck Dax, but he's right—my mind is turning off. And Nolan told me the best thing I could do is distract myself.
Dax's fingers are distracting. I've had his dick in my mouth; I'm sure that would be distracting, too.
"What if I don't want to?" But my words come out as more of a sigh than anything else. I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
"You're soaking wet, baby. I bet you were wet that night, too. You certainly sucked me like you were enjoying it."
I don't know if it's his words or the way he's touching me—maybe both—but before I can stop myself, I roll my hips against his fingers.
"You like it when I pet your pussy?"
"I-I don't know…"
"We're going to fuck, Saige. There's no point in putting off the inevitable.
This is what you agreed to, and like I said, once you stop trying to fight it, I think you're really going to fucking enjoy it.
" With his free hand, he coaxes my knees apart before two thick fingers push their way inside me.
"Oh, fuck…"
One corner of his mouth turns up. "So what do you think, Saige?" He leans over me, pulling my top over my head, revealing my bare chest, while he increases his pace, his fingers fucking into me faster. "Do you still want me to stop?"
"N-no." My toes curl, and I cry out again. "Oh, my god."
"You're tight. Does that feel good, baby?"
"Yes…"
My hips writhe against the bed as he works me, my fingers clawing at the mattress.
"Listen to you—listen to how wet you are," he rasps into my ear. "I told you I'd make your pussy feel good."
He lowers his head, sucking my nipple into his mouth as he turns his wrist a little, curling the two thick fingers pumping into me.
Whimpering, I wrap a leg around him, my back arching off the bed, his fingers working me closer and closer to the edge while he flicks my nipple with his tongue, toying with the other with his free hand.
He plays my body with expert precision, and I'm so close. So fucking close.
His thumb finds my clit, and I cry out as I explode, pulsing around his fingers, my legs shaking. I'm so relieved, so simultaneously overwhelmed that tears well in my eyes as the orgasm rolls through me.
The rational side of my brain tries to tell me this is wrong. But I can't listen to her. I need this—I need the distraction.
It's the only thing that's felt good in days.
When my legs stop shaking, he removes those fingers, then leans over, taking something from the drawer in the nightstand. Then he pulls off his boxers and kneels between my legs, tearing open a condom and working it over his long, hard shaft.
He'd be beautiful if he weren't pure evil.
My heart pounds as he hovers over me—all hard muscle and tattoos, fully erect. His fingers hook into the side of my underwear, working them down my legs before tossing them aside.
Then he lowers his body on top of mine, bracing himself with one arm while the other hand fists his cock, guiding it toward my entrance.
"Dax…" I whimper as the tip glides over my clit. "I don't—"
His mouth covers mine, burying whatever protest I may have had against his lips as he easily slips inside my soaked pussy, burying himself to the hilt.
I pull away from his lips, my hips arching off the bed. "Dax!" He quickly finds his rhythm, rolling his hips into me, giving me no time to adjust to his size. "Oh, my god! Oh, fuck!"
He sits back, slipping his hands under my ass cheeks, gripping them in his hands and spreading me wide.
"Jesus, Ripley," he groans, each thrust just as unrelenting as the last. "I knew you'd feel good, but fuck…I had no fucking idea how good you'd look taking my cock."
I whimper as he pounds into me, digging my heels into the bed, lifting my hips to give him better access as I meet him thrust for thrust. Pressure builds at my center, threatening to come apart again, and I dig my nails into his back.
"Dax…"
"Fuck, Saige…"
"Oh, god, I'm gonna…"
"Elias's room is right above us," he grunts. "You better be quieter if you don't want him to know what his little sister sounds like when she comes."
My pussy clenches, and I bury another moan behind my lips.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he came in with his dick in his hand, wanting to watch this, too…hell, if he saw you like this, he'd probably have to sink into your sweet pussy next."
"Don't…don't say…"
"I don't think he'd be able to fucking resist—not when he sees how well you take it. He'd tear you apart, baby. He'd want to come in all your holes. Good luck getting rid of your big brother after that."
"Fuck!" I cry out, unable to hold it back. My body convulses, my pussy squeezing around Dax's cock as he fucks into me.
It's fucking delicious. I let go, letting my legs fall open, releasing my death grip on his shoulders as I let the orgasm take over, wracking my body.
"Fuck, that feels good, baby…"
I recognize the look in his eyes—I've seen it before…
right before he came down my throat. He grabs me by my ankles, pinning them next to my head before slowing his pace, groaning.
I watch his abs flex, sweat dripping from his brow while he buries himself to the hilt, his dick twitching inside me when he comes.
And when it's over, Dax collapses on top of me, both of us sweaty, the room quiet aside from both of us gasping for breath.
He pushes my hair away from my face, pressing kisses to my jaw before he says, "I knew I'd like having you around, Ripley."
I don't know what to say, so I say nothing. I close my eyes and try not to think about it—about who he is, about what just happened.
After a few minutes, Dax leaves the room, disposing of the condom before surprising me by climbing back into my bed.
I think I surprise both of us when I curl up at his side, resting my head on his chest, but he doesn't show it.
It's just nice to feel something other than what I've been feeling for the past couple of days.
It feels good to be held—a past version of me used to really like it, but this version hasn't allowed anything like that in a long time.
I know it's fucked up; a part of me screams it, but I need to stuff that part in the corner for now, because I can't take it.
Dax gave me an orgasm, a Xanax, and told me it wasn't my fault. That's more than anyone else has done for me in a while.
He kisses the top of my head and then runs his fingers through my hair until I fall asleep. And this time, I don't have nightmares.