30. Chapter 30 #2
All the while, his hand never stopped its rhythmic slide. Even from a few feet away, I could see the clear, glossy bead of pre-cum glistening at the crown of his length. A sudden, wicked spike of desire hit me low in the stomach, so intense it made my hips twitch.
I wanted it.
I wanted to lean forward and lap that sweetness up with my tongue, to taste the control I had just lost.
When I finally crawled close enough that my shadow fell over his lap, the Jester leaned his head back against the concrete wall, a heavy, hooded look in his eyes.
"Climb on, doll."
I halted, my breath catching in my throat as I stared down at what he was asking. Up close, the sheer dimensions of him were staggering. Taking him into my mouth was one thing—I knew how to handle that. But to guide that thick, uncompromising heat inside me was another story entirely.
Would he even fit?
Reading the sudden panic and awe written plain across my face, a low, rumbling chuckle vibrated in his chest.
"It's going to be a tight fit, sweetface," he murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, gravelly register that made my core ache. "But I know you can take it. Every. Last. Inch."
My hands shook so violently the buttons of my trousers caught against the fabric, but I forced them open, pushing the denim down my hips along with my underwear.
I kicked them aside into the shadows of the cell, leaving myself completely bare before his dark, unwavering gaze.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I shifted, lifting a knee to frame his hips and opening myself up to him.
But before I could lower my weight, his hand slid forward, his fingers brushing against my inner thigh before venturing directly into my heat.
"Oh, doll," he purred, his fingers slicking instantly against the sensitive flesh. "You're soaking wet for me."
A wave of heat flooded my cheeks, and I bit down on my lower lip again to keep from crying out. Instantly, his thumb bolted upward, catching my chin and pinching my bottom lip between his fingers to break the hold of my teeth.
"Come here."
He didn't wait for me to comply. He lunged upward, and our lips clashed in a punishing, bruising pace. His tongue invaded my mouth, instantly dominating mine with a fierce, ravenous hunger that left me breathless. A sudden, dizzying realization washed over me in the heat of the collision: he had been holding back this entire time. In every encounter we’d ever had, he had been restraining himself, letting me play the dominant one just to see what I was capable of.
He had never actually given up the reins; he had only loosened them.
His hands migrated to my waist, his long fingers locking onto my hip bones to guide my descent. Slowly, agonizingly, he pulled me down.
The blunt, scorching crown of him pressed against my opening, stretching the sensitive tissue to its absolute limit. I took the first inch, and my breath stalled in my lungs. My teeth gritted against the sharp, tearing stretch, and I froze, my muscles locking up in sheer disbelief.
Holy fuck.
"You are so tight," the Jester growled against my mouth, his hands tightening around my waist with bruising force, anchoring me so I couldn't retreat.
"I—I don't know if I can take all of you," I gasped out, the words trembling as tears pricked the corners of my eyes.
Instead of backing off, his lips dropped to my neck, his teeth nipping sharply at the sensitive skin right above my collarbone.
"You can," With a low, rolling growl, his grip shifted, relentlessly guiding my hips down another excruciating inch. "And you will, because you're a good girl for me, aren't you?"
A choked gasp tore from my throat as he suddenly lifted my hips, pulling me nearly all the way off his length, only to plunge me back down a split second later.
The momentum carried him deeper, claiming more and more of my inner warmth.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my head rolling back as the overwhelming fullness threatened to split me in two.
It felt completely impossible; there was simply nowhere left for him to go.
But the Jester wasn't finished.
With a brutal, final upward thrust of his hips, the remaining length vanished, fully sheathing himself inside me until he was buried root-deep.
A sharp, ragged cry tore from my lungs, echoing off the cold concrete walls as my fingers clawed desperately into the hard muscle of his shoulders, clinging to him just to stay anchored in the storm.
He froze inside me, his entire body locking up as he gave me a moment to process the crushing fullness of him. Every muscle in my core stretched taut around his length, throbbing in a frantic, tight pulse that seemed to mirror the heavy hammering of his own heart.
He didn't pull back. Instead, he leaned up, his mouth crashing into mine again, but the rhythm had changed.
It wasn't just dominant anymore; it was feral.
His teeth nipped sharply at my bottom lip, a sudden, deliberate bite that brought the metallic tang of blood bursting onto my tongue. I gasped against his mouth, and he drank the sound in, his fingers tangling deep into the roots of my hair to hold me captive to the kiss.
Then, his hips rolled upward.
A sharp, agonizingly deep thrust vibrated through my entire spine.
"Please—" I cried out against his lips, the word breaking into a ragged sob. "Jester, stop... slow down."
Even as the plea left my mouth, the bitter truth coiled in my gut: he was going slow. He was moving with an agonizing, deliberate friction, drawing out every single millimeter of the stretch just to relish the way my body fought to accommodate him.
He loved the resistance.
He loved the absolute ruin of my composure.
"Shh, look at you," he growled against my ear, his breath scorching hot as his hips gave another slow, devastating push upward. "Look how beautifully you take every inch of me."
The sheer, overwhelming friction began to change, the sharp edge of the pain slowly blurring into a heavy, blinding heat.
The ache in my core turned liquid, slicking his length and making the brutal tightness give way to a desperate, clawing need.
My body betrayed my mind. Instinct, raw and untamable, took over.
Lifting my weight just an inch, I rolled my hips forward, sliding down against him on my own terms.
He let out a ragged, guttural sound from the back of his throat, his hands digging so hard into my waist I knew they’d leave marks.
"Yes... just like that, doll," he praised under his breath, his voice a rough, broken rumble in the dark. "Riding me so beautifully."
Driven by a sudden, demanding urge to overpower him, I didn't give him mercy. I moved with a deliberate, punishing rhythm, listening to the dirty, ruined sounds he made in the back of his throat.
The Jester, the infamous monster of Blackthorne, was entirely at my mercy, shivering and shattering under my hands.
The rhythm became a fever. Every slide of my hips down his length sent a jolt of lightning straight to my spine, the initial, tearing pain dissolving completely into a blinding, liquid heat.
I was no longer fighting him; I was chasing something entirely consuming.
The walls of the cell faded into nothing but the sound of our ragged breathing and the slick, heavy friction of our bodies meeting.
He groaned beneath me, his head thumping back against the concrete wall as my pace quickened.
His hands stayed locked on my waist, no longer forcing me down, but anchoring himself as I took control of the movement.
I arched my back, a desperate, breathless whimpering building in my throat as the tension in my core coiled tighter and tighter, hovering right on the razor-edge of a shattering release.
Sensing the frantic edge in my movements, the Jester’s eyes snapped open—still midnight-dark, but wide with a fierce, unmasked hunger. He surged upward, his chest flushing hard against mine, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
"That's it, bleed it out for me, doll," he whispered, his voice a gravelly, trembling shadow of its usual self. "I'm going to fill you entirely. Every single drop."
The promise of it sent me over the precipice.
With a ragged cry, I rode him through the blind haze of the building storm, my hips rolling in a desperate, demanding rhythm.
Just as the first wave of my climax threatened to break, the Jester let out a low, guttural roar from the depth of his chest. His hips jerked upward in a violent, final spasm as he ruptured inside me, a thick, scorching torrent flooding my core.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my head dropping onto his shoulder as my own body completely fractured.
I had never felt so impossibly full, so thoroughly undone.
The sheer intensity of the pleasure washed over me in great, pulsing waves, drowning out the cold floor, the prison bars, and my own stubborn pride.
A profound, insane sense of contentment settled deep into my bones.
His powerful arms wrapped around my back, crushing me tightly against his heaving chest, holding me together while I came undone in his arms.
I breathed against him, frozen. My heart was thumping a frantic, terrifying rhythm against my ribs—not from the adrenaline of the act, but from the sickening, sudden realization of what was happening to me.
I was catching feelings for him.
Panic, cold and sharp, flooded my veins, instantly replacing the heat.
I couldn't look at him, terrified he’d see my vulnerability. Without a word, I scrambled off him, threw on my clothes, and hit the door release. I stepped out into the bright, sterile corridor, leaving him tangled on the floor behind me.