Chapter 35 Jagger
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
JAGGER
Watching her lick my cum from those dainty little fingers has me hard and ready to sink deep into her little cunt until she forgets everyone’s name but mine.
Even though I just came, I’m ready to go again. And now I’ve had a tiny taste of her, it’s going to be near impossible to hold back.
But I have to try. She’s not ready yet. Not for everything. She was completely untouched before we got our tainted hands on her, and I want to make sure her body and her mind are ready to take us before we cross that line. There’s no going back after that.
Not that there’s a chance of going back now. She’s already mine.
From her second letter, the one where she knew who I was and what I’d done, I was hooked. Even though I had been at the beginning of a life sentence, I knew that one day I’d be able to get out and find her.
At first, I was thankful for her brother not letting her see us, not wanting to spoil her innocence with the filth of prison.
But the more she wrote, the more I realized her brother’s protection resembled something much more sinister.
I couldn’t express that in my letters, though.
I wasn’t sure if he read them and was afraid he’d stop her from contacting us.
She hums a moan of pleasure when she licks a particularly large spot of cum off her hand, and I have to scrub a hand down my face to stop myself from taking her right now.
I lift my hands and sign to her.
“I didn’t get that first word,” she says, so I spell it out for her.
“Fuck, tiny flame.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks innocently, still cleaning her hand like it’s no big deal.
I narrow my eyes at her as I sign, “You are trouble.”
“Who, me?”
I narrow my eyes at her. Maybe she’s not as innocent as she acts.
Before she can blink, I pounce. She squeals, laughter spilling out as I press quick kisses along her neck, chasing every sound she makes.
“Stop, stop! I give!”
I pull back, pleased with the look on her flushed face. I kiss her hard and fast, then I scoop her up and carry her into the bathroom. Setting her on her feet, I turn on the shower and point. First at her, then at the water.
“You want me to shower?” she asks.
“You’re dirty,” I sign.
“So are you.”
I sign again, “I will shower in the other bathroom.”
Her face falls a little, and she looks up at me through her lashes and asks, “You don’t want to shower with me?”
And damn, the disappointment in her voice makes me second-guess every bit of self-control I have. I take a deep breath to stop myself from lifting her up and railing her against the shower wall.
Signing, I tell her, “If I go in there with you, you won’t be coming out a virgin.”
“Dios mio,” she squeaks in Spanish, her cheeks turning red as she stares at me with those captivatingly beautiful blue eyes. There’s something about the way she looks at me that draws me in. I could get lost in her gaze for days; sometimes I do.
I turn, pulling the door closed as I exit and find another bathroom. By the time I’m under the warm spray of water, my cock is begging me for another release.
That’s what it was like being in Wren’s presence. I’ve jacked off more in the past few weeks than I did in the past year. I might have spent the majority of that time in prison, but the showers offered the privacy needed for a bit of tension relief, just like I was doing now.
But I wasn’t in prison anymore. And Wren was no longer just a name on paper that I jerked off to.
No, now, as I wrap my hand around my throbbing cock, I can picture the exact hue of her pretty blue eyes, the way her silky black hair hangs over her shoulder, the smile on her pink lips when her eyes connect with mine.
I press my palm to the wall and let my head drop down.
A grunt rumbles in my chest as my balls start to tighten.
I picture the way she came apart underneath me just now, the way her pussy squeezed my fingers so fucking tight as she stroked my cock.
I come hard, my jizz coating the wall in what seems like a never-ending spray of my obsession.
When I’m finally done, I place my other hand on the wall and take a minute to catch my breath before cleaning my body.
Whoever’s house this is, I’m glad for the shampoo and soap.
I wrap a towel around my body and make my way back to the room where my bag is, finding clothes to get dressed.
Pete liked to tease me, saying my style made me look like G.I.
Joe. But I found the cargo pants and vest useful.
Plus, having my tiny flame constantly eyeing my biceps was something I enjoyed.
If I had my way, she’d always have her eyes on me.
These past few weeks have really put my self-control to the test. Not only was Wren a tempting little seductress in disguise, but the three men I had to put up with so I could keep her close were constantly pushing my patience.
It’s a shock we haven’t been caught yet.
With Dex’s simple-minded ignorance and Pete’s carefree childish whims, our days are numbered.
And I’m growing tired of them constantly trying to get their hands on her.
She’s so innocent and pure, and we’d only just met her in person when they started making advances.
You’d think all the books Dex had read on how to treat women would have told him not to sleep with them quickly, but the man had hearts in his eyes.
I don’t think he sees anything as too fast when it comes to Wren.
When she nearly had a panic attack because of his careless comment about Sly being jealous, I had been seconds away from stabbing my knife through his hand.
But she had needed me more, and by the time I had calmed her down and she went off to the bathroom, my rage had simmered.
Didn’t mean I didn’t try to cause him a little pain, though.
It’s probably a good thing she came back before I did any real damage.
She seemed to like the big oaf for some reason.
At least Sly took things seriously.
I knew he was as tempted by Wren as I was. We all were. But sometimes, he tried to push her too soon. He was lucky I hadn’t slit his throat in his sleep yet.
I’m not exactly sure what attracts her to the likes of us.
If it’s the lack of any real positive attention in her life before we entered it, or the fact that she was lonely, or if there really is something she genuinely sees in us that draws her in.
Whatever it is, I know I can’t take it for granted.
Her letters had pulled me in, and now that I’ve tasted her, touched her, held her in my arms, I knew my life belonged to her. I would burn the world for her even if I didn’t deserve her.
The way she learned ASL so quickly, and forced the others to learn so I could converse with them… It had been a miracle I just kissed her instead of driving my cock deep inside her like I wanted to do, to show her the same amount of pleasure she had shown me.
It’s almost unbelievable that someone like her, so sweet, caring, and full of kindness, hasn’t been snatched up. But I guess that’s what her brother had planned all along.
My hands clench into fists as I think about how he planned to sell her to him. That pathetic Russian svoloch. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her, let alone be married to her.
Just thinking about how her brother was going to betray her brings back memories from my own childhood, ones I’d rather forget.
I trace a finger along the scar on my throat as I try to calm my anger. I’m not sure what Wren will say when she finds out everything about my past. I just hope she forgives me for not telling her sooner.
Deciding that fifteen minutes has been far too long not to have my eyes on her, I go in search of my tiny flame. I find her in the kitchen, sitting on a stool at the counter, frowning into a bowl of oatmeal.
“You don’t like it?” Pete asks around a mouthful as he leans casually against the counter.
Her eyes lift to meet his, then bounce to mine as I enter the room. “I could think of a few things I’d prefer to eat for breakfast.”
I hold her gaze, trying to figure out if she realizes how sexual that sounds.
The corner of her mouth twitches before she turns back to her bowl, and I roll my shoulders and take a breath.
I think she knows exactly what she’s saying.
Thank fuck for this morning, not just because my dick would already be standing at full attention, but because it means I’m one step closer to getting to claim her completely.
“There’s not much food here,” Sly says, showing us the empty cupboards. “We’ll have to go grocery shopping.”
“Can’t we use an app for that?” Pete asks. “Like a grocery delivery service?”
“I don’t think it’s a smart idea to have things delivered here. We’re still not sure whose house it is.”
That reminds me… I turn to the living room and start scanning the place. The curtains are pulled closed so that nobody can see in, but they allow the light to filter through, giving me a much better view than I had last night during my initial inspection.
Now that I can actually see the place, I need to figure out who lives here, when they’re coming back, and how we ended up here.
There have been too many weird coincidences since we escaped prison. It didn’t seem like the others were eager to know the reason, but I was.
It seemed like mystery after mystery was piling up, and it was killing me not to know how all these things connected.
This address was in that phone for a reason.
I look around the room, checking under the table and couch, in the drawers, and behind a framed photo of flowers on the wall.
But there’s nothing there. What sticks out most is how impersonal it all is.
I can’t even figure out who lives here. A family?
A couple? A bachelor? There was no clear indication either way, which I didn't like.
Moving to check out the rest of the house, I start to step into the hall.