Chapter 16
confessions of a sociopath
Saige
Dax drives way too fucking fast the entire way back to campus, laughing when I grip the door handle because he's scaring the shit out of me.
I don't know how far behind Nolan is, but I know we get back to the house twenty minutes faster than usual.
Dax gets to park in the garage, so when we pull up to the house, I spot Elias's car parked out front.
Great. We're early—it's not even noon yet, so I expected him to still be in the city. Unfortunately, I'm not so lucky.
"Hey," Dax says when we step inside. He grabs me by the waistband of my jeans and pulls me into him before kissing my lips. "You get to help me with my homework now."
Luckily, Elias is in his room, blaring music with the door closed. He probably doesn't even know we're here.
I sigh. "Really? I spent all day yesterday doing my own and Elias's—"
"It's my art homework; you barely have to do anything," he says. "And you did kind of destroy what I was planning on submitting for my end of semester project."
"I didn't destroy anything."
Dax shrugs. "You brought him here. Come on."
He grabs a barstool from behind the counter, effortlessly holding it overhead with one arm, and heads for the staircase. I groan in protest before following him upstairs and into his room.
"Strip," he says, setting the stool down opposite his easel.
I start putting the pieces together in my head. "No way."
"Yes way," he says. "Come on, this will be the easiest thing you've done for us this week. You just have to sit there. It's better than washing Elias's cum rags."
I grimace. Is he telling them? "How did you know about that?"
"Nolan told me about the rubber gloves; it was a guess. Honestly, I'm not surprised. I knew his weird obsession with you had to be sexual."
"Please don't say that."
"My weird obsession with you is definitely sexual, by the way." He winks at me, and I can't help but smile. "So please just take off your clothes."
"All of them?"
"All of them."
I sigh, removing my sweatshirt first and then my jeans. "My face won't be in this, will it?"
"It will," he says. "I invite you to look slightly to the right. And make sure you push your hair away from your tits."
"How's this?" I ask, climbing onto the stool.
"Scoot to the edge and spread your legs more."
I move forward, opening my legs a little, and he shakes his head. "More than that."
He sighs, still unsatisfied, and then gets up, comes over to where I sit, and spreads my legs wide.
"Why are you blushing?" he asks.
"Because it's weird. I'm on display in a well-lit room in the middle of the day."
"I've seen it all before—bare like this, wrapped around my dick while your legs shake, against my tongue. You've got a really pretty pussy, baby."
"Stop…"
"Why? Are you getting wet?" Then he reaches between my legs, running his thumb down my bared pussy. "You are, huh? Let me ask you another question…"
"Do I have to?"
He caresses my jaw and then my neck with one hand while his thumb continues gently tracing my wet slit. "Have you showered since you let Nolan fuck you, or is that wet spot in your underwear from his cum?"
I know I should be embarrassed, and I am, but his words still hit me right between my legs. What the fuck have they done to me? "I didn't shower."
"Fuck, Saige, I'm melting right now. You're a dream come true; this is painful." He sighs, pulling his thumb away and holding it in front of my lips. "Suck."
I open, doing as he asks.
"I'm going to go back over there now and start on this, but when I'm finished, I'm going to be so fucking hard, and I promise you, you'll be thoroughly fucked for your service.
" He sits across from me, peering around the side of the canvas.
"I can see how wet you are…fuck." He shakes his head. "Don't move an inch."
I keep my head turned slightly to the right like he said, peering out the window, focusing on the raindrops rolling down the glass. It makes it easier than just staring straight at him.
But when I do glance at him, I rarely meet his eyes, and if he is looking at me, it's only for a second or two.
Elias turned his music off a while ago, and now the space is far too quiet. We must be the only ones here.
"Do you think Nolan made it home okay?"
"Yeah…I'm sure he's at the gym," he says, his speech slow and tone somewhat indifferent while he focuses on his task. "Why? You like him better than me now?"
"What makes you think I like you at all?"
He scoffs. "You're funny, Ripley. But seriously—you were nice to him, right?"
"Why do you keep asking me that? Yeah, I was nice to him. Why wouldn't I be nice to him?"
"I don't know…just respect his boundaries. They're there for a reason, and most people don't."
"I didn't do anything to him, Dax."
"Well, I didn't say you couldn't do anything to him. I just said be nice." This time when I look over, our eyes meet. "You're closing your legs; stop it."
I didn't close them; I may have moved just a bit, but it feels weird just sitting here like this for so long. "Don't make my thighs look big," I say, readjusting my legs.
"They aren't big; they're juicy. I'm going to make them look juicy."
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, okay."
"You know…" he says, still not looking up. "I can tell it's a defense mechanism, but…you…should learn to take a compliment."
I ignore him, changing the subject. "So what are you studying, anyway?"
"Finance because I have to go work for my dad, and art because I want to. But if you ask my dad, I'm just doing that to waste his money and because I think I'm funny."
"You do think you're funny."
"I am funny. But yeah, it doesn't really matter what I do here. I'm going to be that boss's kid who walks into a high-paying job and then whines when people complain about it and insists he got there on merit alone."
"No, you're not."
"No, I'm not; that's what my sister does. I'm going to say, Hey, that's nepotism, baby. Welcome to real life."
I shake my head. Now that is something I can see him doing.
I sit, mostly in silence, while he continues working until eventually he puts everything away and tells me we're done for the day.
"Can I see it?" I ask hesitantly. I'm not sure I really want to.
"No," he says. "You can't see it until it's finished. And don't try to look when I'm not here, either. I'll know if you did."
"How would you know?"
"Because I'm all-knowing."
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he lifts me from the stool and lays me down on his bed, covering my body with his.
"I just want to have a lazy day with you, if that's okay.
I want to keep you in my room all day; I'll feed you when you're hungry, bathe you eventually, dress you maybe. I really did miss you, Saige."
"I missed you, too."
Saying those words is painful; it feels like I've lost some kind of contest or betrayed myself in some way. And I'm pretty sure I just did both.
It's true, though. I did miss him. I missed his smile, I missed the way he smells and the weight of his body on top of mine. I missed his tattooed arms wrapped around me while I sleep.
Without realizing it, I begin tracing one with my fingertips—the anatomical heart wrapped in barbed wire.
"You like that one?" he asks.
"I like all of them."
"I drew all of them. Maybe you could let me draw one for you."
I laugh a little. "Yeah, I don't know; that seems like a bad idea."
"Why not? You said you like my art. It's just a picture."
"I hate to break it to you like this, but tattoos are actually permanent."
"Oh, shit, really?"
I nod. "Uh huh."
"Well, I have some bad news for you, too, Ripley.
" He props his head against his hand, dark eyes framed with even darker lashes catching my own, while he traces my lower lip with his fingertip.
"I've already left a permanent mark on you.
Maybe it isn't a good one, but there's nothing you can do about it now, is there?
I don't even think you want to. I think you love the scar. "
He presses his lips to mine, sliding his tongue into my mouth, tasting me while his hands explore my body, but I'm not quite in it.
Because his words hit me like a punch to the fucking stomach.
I'm pretty sure what he just said to me was that he bullied and manipulated me, and then he made me like it.
He made me miss him and want him; he made me think I was special.
Somehow, he became the person who made me feel safe in this alternate universe hellscape I fell into, and I started seeing him as my protector instead of my abuser, even though I know it doesn't make sense.
He shared me with his boyfriend, and the entire time I sat naked on that stool, I wondered if maybe Nolan would be home soon, so I could take them both again, my heart racing at the thought.
I'm scared that he's right. I don't think I can do anything about it now. I said I'd turn it off, but I haven't turned it off at all; I didn't even try.
He sinks his dick into me, pulling me out of my head and back into my body. My toes curl, and I hitch a leg around his waist, digging my nails into his back as he rolls his hips into me, panting with his face buried in my hair, his hands on my shoulders, holding me in place.
I try to convince myself again that it's not him I've gone soft for—it's just his big dick.
Because it feels so fucking good, my entire body feels like it's melting into the fucking mattress.
His length, his control, the way he hits that spot just right and sends shivers of pleasure all the way up my spine and down to the tips of my toes. ..
I lift my hips, squirming beneath him, whimpering his name. "Dax…Dax, please…"
"Fuck…" he rasps. "You're going to come already, aren't you? My perfect little fuck doll…I hope you didn't plan on getting much sleep tonight; when I'm done with you, you won't be able to think, let alone walk to class tomorrow."