22. Chapter 22 #2
“Exactly what you want,” he cooed against my lips, his breath warm and sweet. He didn't pull away, his voice dropping to a low, hypnotic vibration. “It’s clear we both harbor the same desires, Elara. There’s no need to hold them back.”
Heat flared in my chest, a sudden, frantic panic taking hold.
“I don't—I don't want you,” I lied, the words tripping over each other as my face burned at the accusation.
The Jester let out a low, wicked chuckle that vibrated right against my skin.
To prove his point, he gripped my waist and shifted, grinding me firmly against him.
A sharp, breathless gasp caught in my throat as a wave of pure, undeniable electricity shot straight through me.
A deep, furious flush bloomed across my cheeks, hot and incriminating.
A triumphant smirk spreading across his lips as he watched the color flood my face. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.
And he loved every second of it.
“Come again?” he teased, his voice a low, raspy purr that vibrated directly into my core. “Don't you feel so nice up against me, doll?”
“No,” I choked out, desperately trying to find my footing on the slick stone floor, but his grip on my waist was unyielding. My heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. “I don't. Let me up.”
“Oh, what a terrible liar,” the Jester murmured, his gaze dropping back to my mouth before rising to meet my panicked eyes. “There is no need to deny the desire, sweetface. Everybody feels it. It’s the most natural thing in the world to want to touch the fire.”
He leaned in closer.
“And right now, you are burning up.”
Before I could fire back another desperate denial, he closed the remaining distance. His lips met mine.
For a fraction of a second, my brain screamed at me to fight, to pull away, to remember the bars and the guards and the blood I had just scrubbed off the floor. I hesitated, my body freezing in a moment of pure, agonizing conflict.
But then, the sheer magnetism of him pulled me under.
The dam broke. I leaned into him, kissing him back hungrily.
All the pent-up tension of the last two weeks, all the terror and the sleepless nights, melted into a desperate, feral craving.
I parted my lips, completely losing myself in the rhythm of his mouth.
He tasted sharply, intoxicatingly of peppermint—a clean, cool contrast to the dark, heavy heat coursing through my veins.
I fisted my hands in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, completely forgetting that he was a deranged killer, forgetting that I was supposed to be the one in control. All I knew was the devastating perfection of his lips against mine.
And the terrifying realization that I didn’t want him to stop.
The kiss deepened into something fierce and consuming.
The Jester parted my lips with his tongue, sweeping inside with a hot, demanding hunger that left me reeling.
Every rational thought burned away, replaced by the dizzying friction of our mouths and the sharp, electrifying taste of peppermint.
I melted, my hands tangling blindly in his hair as he pulled me flush against his chest.
With a low, gravelly groan, the Jester tore his mouth from mine. His fingers, strong and impatient, worked their way beneath the hem of my blouse. The cool air of the cell bit at my skin as he peeled the fabric up and over my head, tossing it aside.
I shivered, but before the chill could settle, the heat of his mouth was on me.
He leaned down, burying his face in my chest. His tongue swirled hot against my skin before he took one aching peak into his mouth, suckling deeply and letting his teeth graze the sensitive tip.
A sharp gasp tore from my throat, my back arching instinctively as a current of pure pleasure shot straight down to my core.
"Ah, look at you," the Jester whispered against my skin, his breath hot and heavy as he shifted his attention to the other side, nipping and teasing until I was trembling. "So sensitive. So beautiful for me."
The ache between my thighs was becoming unbearable. Desperate for relief, I shifted my weight and dragged my hips forward, grinding firmly against his hardened length.
The Jester let out a soft breath, his fingers digging into my hips to guide my rhythm. He didn't stop me; instead, he anchored me to him, encouraging the friction.
"Yes, just like that, doll. Ride it out. Give it to me."
I lost all sense of modesty, rolling my hips against his length in a slow, agonizingly perfect rhythm. The friction through our clothes was a exquisite torture, building a tight, coiled tension that threatened to snap at any second. My head fell back, my breath coming in short, desperate pants.
I absolutely loved feeling his hardened length pressed so impossibly close to my core, the heavy warmth of him anchoring me to the spot.
In the chaotic haze of my mind, I was already envisioning him ripping through the barriers of our clothes and burying himself deep inside of me to fill the desperate, aching void he had created.
"You are absolutely stunning like this," the Jester murmured as he watched me unravel. He reached up, his thumb tracing the sharp line of my jaw before smoothing over my burning cheeks. "Look at how red your face is. Look at what I do to you, doll."
The coiled tension inside me tightened, twisting into a frantic, breathless peak. I was right on the edge, the pressure building until the entire world narrowed down to the friction of our bodies.
"That's it, Elara. Let go," he whispered as he sensed the shift in my breath.
He let out a low, gravelly growl deep under his breath as he matched my rhythm in grinding up against me, his pace turning demanding and relentless.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Consider this a little reward for not bringing your earbuds today... I want you to hear every single sound you make."
He drove his hips forward, a hard, deliberate thrust through the fabric of our clothes that nearly made my knees give out completely.
"This," he ground out, shifting his weight to press even deeper against my core.
"Is," he slammed against me again, forcing a broken, breathless sob from my lips.
"How," another ruthless roll of his hips sent a jolt of liquid fire straight to my spine.
"Good. Girls. Get. Rewarded." He punctuated each word with a heavy, uncompromising friction that left me entirely undone, his voice dipping into a commanding, unhinged rasp.
"Understand? I want to hear you say it, doll. Say it for me."
"Y-Yes, okay…" I managed, but my breath was literally stolen as the first violent wave of the orgasm crashed through me, my eyes flew open and a loud, shattered moan began to tear from my throat.
But before the sound could echo down the prison corridor, the Jester slipped two fingers into my mouth to muffle the noise.
I bit down softly on his fingers, my body arching into a rigid, trembling line as the climax completely bucked through me.
Hot, blinding waves of pleasure pulsed through my veins, making my hips stutter helplessly against his.
The only sound in the dark cell was the wet, muffled gasps echoing against his hand.
I collapsed forward, my forehead sinking into the crook of the Jester's shoulder as the last residual tremors of the climax rippled through my body.
My chest heaved, my breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.
For a few suspended seconds, the entire world was reduced to the frantic, echoing thrum of our heartbeats.
The Jester didn't push me away. Instead, he wrapped an arm loosely around my waist, his other hand coming up to gently wind his fingers through my hair. His touch was surprisingly tender, his fingers massaging my scalp in slow, soothing circles that almost made me forget where we were.
Then, the cold, unforgiving reality of the concrete floor seeped back into my consciousness.
What did I just do?
Panic struck like a lightning bolt, instantly freezing the blood in my veins. My eyes snapped open, reality crashing down on me with terrifying weight. I had just unraveled in the lap of a notorious mass murderer.
In his cell.
While on the clock.
I scrambled backward so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet, my knees scraping against the stone.
My hands shook violently as I scanned the floor, spotting my discarded blouse.
I snatched it up, my heart hammering a frantic, suffocating rhythm against my ribs as I hurriedly jammed my arms through the sleeves and fumbled with the buttons, not even caring if they were aligned.
The Jester remained exactly where he was, leaning back against the stone wall with a posture of absolute, feline grace.
The slow, wicked smirk was back on his face, his dark eyes glittering with a dangerous sort of amusement.
As I tucked in my shirt with trembling fingers and reached for my mop, desperately trying to construct a barrier between us, he leaned forward.
The heavy iron links of his chains clanked softly, a grim punctuation to the silence.
"You can run along now, doll. But we both know you'll be counting down the seconds until tomorrow."
My heart gave a violent, painful leap, practically rising into my throat. The sheer certainty in his voice terrified me, mostly because a dark, buried part of my soul knew he wasn't entirely wrong.
Unable to look at him for even a second longer, I spun around and lunged for the heavy steel door. I grabbed the iron bars, my knuckles turning stark white, and banged against them with a frantic, echoing clatter.