Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Madelyn
Ihad to keep Jackson from impulsively killing me.
I could sense the darkness seeping out of him in waves.
It overshadowed everything. All of his increasingly powerful movements forced all the negatively out of him and into me.
While he was healing, my body was being damaged.
It was only a matter of time before Jackson aimed to take everything.
I had to feed his deranged soul. As soon as his fingers went down my spine, I just knew, and I threw out the only plan I had left—tempt him with money.
“Hundreds of thousands. Maybe millions,” I lie while forcing the words out in between breaths.
In truth, Oliver is well-off. But I wouldn’t know the total amounts.
“Shouldn’t be difficult.” Unlike my ability to talk.
I sit up, trying to put some space between us.
The room spins from the sudden shift of being upright.
My heart beats wildly against my chest at the thought of delaying my death.
I don’t know which one is worse…Jackson or my stepfather but maybe I can manage for them to take each other out and I can escape them both.
What do I have to lose? Not a damn thing from my position.
“This arrangement changes nothing. You are still going to be by my side until the money is in my pocket and your body is in a grave.” His eyes narrow at me as he flexes his cuffed hand. It’s a sharp reminder that I am still attached to him, regardless if I like it or not.
“I know,” I whisper, looking down at the newly formed bruises on my wrist along with a red ring where the handcuff is. At least then I can see my mom again. “Can we at least switch hands?” I attempt to change the subject.
His eyes drift down my body to my injuries. With one hand, he slides his fingertips along the biggest bruise and smiles. My stomach flips at the look on his face. “You don’t like the colors?”
I shake my head. “I don’t like the pain.”
“Hmm,” he says. He lifts my wrist to his lips. A shiver runs down my arm as his breath tickles my skin. “I’m not sure that’s true.”
“Pain lingers for days. The pleasure just fades.” I try to jerk my hand away with no success.
Jackson snatches my other hand and places both hands together. My body lands face up on the bed with my arms over my head as he leans over me. With his face inches from mine, he whispers, “You’re trembling.”
I nod, not quite knowing how to respond. My body overstimulates me. His presence is everywhere, and yet mentally he is closed off. My mind can’t escape the way he has everything off balanced nor the way my body reacts to him. It’s wrong. Scary. Useless. But why do I feel so alive?
“You need more marks to test this theory of yours. One delicate wrist is not enough,” he replies just before placing his mouth on my right breast. His teeth bite at my nipple, pulling and teasing.
My body jerks from his touch, but it does no good.
His hold is as strong as ever. Tears threaten to form from the ache coming from my chest.
Jackson places his legs over mine and moves onto my other nipple.
His movements don’t discriminate. If anything, he tugs on this one harder.
I’m in a situation where he can truly do what he wants with me.
Both arms and legs pinned against him, my body is completely his in every sense of the word.
My heart beats loudly, so much so that I worry he can hear it against my chest and realize that he is the reason behind it.
“Watch me,” he orders. His breath slides against my swollen breast, offering a moment of relief.
Against my instincts, I take a chance and peer down.
This is the first time I’m able to take in all of him.
Not just bits and pieces. Now clean, his ink comes through.
And not just over his stomach and chest. His arms, shoulders, and neck also showcase various tattoo pieces and several scars.
His body seems broken, just like his mind.
I sigh and for a moment find myself wondering just how bad his past is.
His eyes, hovering over my chest, find mine and break me from my thoughts. He stares at me. No, into me. Heart, body, and soul. The air shifts from his lingering glances, and I force myself to swallow the lump in my throat.
A slow smirk appears on his lips as he plans his next move.
Using his cuffed hand to pin my arms, the other breaks free to stake a claim on the rest of my body.
His mouth trails down, leaving a path of small bruises from my chest to my stomach.
I pull my lips tight to keep from moaning.
Jackson explores me, making sure there’s not one piece of my body that a part of him hasn’t gotten ahold of.
And just as the pain gets too much, Jackson pulls away and moves onto another section of skin.
His hand finds my inner thigh and slips closer to my center. A finger traces the skin around my pussy.
“Jackson, please,” I plead while forcing myself to take slow breaths. His touch spreads heat through my body, with all of it lingering at my center.
“Hmmm, I like it when you beg,” he whispers just as his fingers thrust into my pussy.
I gasp as I try to push him out. Ignoring my struggles, he studies me as his fingers move further in.
“You have something of mine that I’d like to have back.
” I stop moving as a weird sensation becomes overbearing.
His twists inside me, hooking his fingers, until he finally pulls them back out.
I glance down and discover his hand is covered in cum. His cum and mine. “We mix well,” he says.
“You’re psychotic,” I hiss while nausea forms in my stomach
“Maybe, but this psychotic motherfucker can’t get enough of you. The question is is your pussy just as greedy?”
“I am not greedy.” I swallow. “No part of me wants you,” I say, though I’m not sure if I believe my own words.
“Don’t lie, little fire.” His words hit my ears just as he situates his cock at my entrance.
Jackson leans closer to my face. “If that were true…” He pushes himself in.
I gasp at how full he makes me. “Your eyes would hint at a totally different response.” His movements start slow, only to stay that way as he looks into eyes. “But they betray you.”
He’s right and I absolutely hate myself for it. It shouldn’t feel this good. I close my eyes, trying to go back to my safe place. To escape all these mixed feelings and emotions. It doesn’t work as well as before. “Jesus Christ,” I moan just as his thrusts become harder.
His eyes lock into mine, the gold in them slipping to the surface. A slight smile plays on his lips, “It’s too late to look for salvation.”
Don’t I know. I shake my head and bite my lip.
The guilt starts to slip away, only to be replaced with an indescribable need for more.
Jackson must sense it. Heat spreads from my core to my chest, and with it, any last hope of being a redeemable person.
His thumb flicks against my clit, and I can’t help but shudder.
“Give in to me.” His fingers flex, causing me to reach my limit.
“Give me all of you. Let me hear you scream.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, his lips are on me again.
Biting. Sucking. Finding refuge at the base of my neck.
And I do exactly what he asks against my better instincts.
I yell out, unable to concentrate on anything but the pleasure exuding from my body.
My body trembles as I hit the high. A sound explodes from my throat, the noise nothing like I’ve made before.
Jackson offers one final thrust before pulling out.
He shifts so that he’s on his side, facing me.
“Good g…” he stops himself, but it’s already too late.
I freeze as my stepfather’s voice penetrates my mind. "Good girl, my Madelyn."
The world shifts as all the terrible memories stake their claim in my mind.
My head jerks back as Jackson shakes me.
His mouth moves, but the words coming out are all jumbled.
All I can do is stare ahead and let the dark memories take hold.
I’m lost to it. The terror I felt that day.
The shame. The thought that Mom would hate me for what happened, even though she’s gone.
A single tear runs down my cheek. I can feel it betraying me.
But as I try to wipe it away, Jackson beats me to it.
His thumb swipes the moisture from my skin before he cups my face.
With jaw clenched and heat burning in his eyes, he picks me up.
His movements are gentle as he sits me in the tub, letting the still-running shower spray down my head and neck.
I shut my eyes, trying to force my thoughts to clear.
But instead, the water takes me back to everything that has happened.
From planning to outrun my stepfather to finding Jackson.
To being kidnapped and used for his entertainment, my adult life has been nothing short of a disaster.
I almost laugh at what the universe has given me.
They say everything happens for a reason, but I have yet to discover why I have to suffer just so men can do what they want.
They just take and take until there’s nothing left of my soul but a shadow. A sliver of the person that I once was.
A slight jolt goes through my arm as the metal of the handcuff moves over my wrist. I bite my lip at how tender my skin is there.
Just as I open my mouth to curse, the cuff releases and falls to the tub with a clang.
Jackson shifts into my line of vision as he bends down.
Droplets of water hit his shoulders, only to trickle down the ink on his chest. My eyes travel down with the droplets until they form larger ones at the hair below his stomach.
While I look at his body, my mind wonders just how many people he’s hurt.
How many kills has he made with those hands?
Why doesn’t it seem to bother him at all?
And most importantly, why I can forget so easily?
His eyebrows lift slightly when he notices me staring, but he doesn’t say a word.
Instead, he tosses the cuffs through the open doorway, walks out, and shuts the door behind him.
Heartless bastard. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at him leaving me here alone.
He is a killer. Emotionless. Selfish. A shell and I need to remember it.