Sicko

I nibble on my bottom lip as he slides his finger inside of my entrance. “I need you inside of me.”

“Say it again…” he growls through a throaty groan.

“I need you inside of me.”

He withdraws his hand from my pants and drops me back to the ground, tugging my jeans down to my ankles and tearing them off. If I wasn’t high and nervous, I would make sure no one was watching us right now, but I don’t. I don’t care. All I care about is that I have him and he has me, and I need to be closer to him. I need to feel him inside of me, owning me, thrusting into me, riding and licking me all over my body. The cold brush of wind whisks over my clit as Royce unbuckles his belt and picks me back up with his fingers flexing around my thighs.

His mouth is on mine again, his slick tongue sliding between my lips. I fight the urge to scream, my body responding to all of his physical cues, as if it knows how to counter his actions.

Slamming me against the wall roughly, he thrusts inside of me, his mouth on mine again. My body fills with hot fire with every single thrust. Every time he rocks inside of me, my pussy clenches around his thick shaft, milking his every movement.

Pulling out, he flips me over and slaps my ass hard, entering me from behind with a force of energy. My hair rolls over one shoulder as I catch where everyone is seated. In my sex and very fucking high haze, I’m somewhat pleased to see no one watching, until my focus falls on Wicked. He’s leaning back in his chair, a toothpick rolling around between his swollen lips. His eyes are dead, cold, and emotionless. Royce grabs my hair tight and yanks my head backward.

“You better not be looking at who I think you’re looking at…”

I gulp, no desire to answer him.

He releases my hair before one hand clamps around my waist, tensing hard enough to leave bruises beneath my skin while his other comes to the back of my throat. “You’ll pay for that too.”

He squeezes and thrashes me from behind, his cock thrusting against the walls of my pussy as his hand tenses enough to cut off any form of oxygen.

I tap at his hand as he relentlessly thrusts into me. In and out, in and out, his hand clenching the same time, with every time he chokes me, it seems to get longer. Bright retro dots dance behind the backs of my eyes, everything turning dizzy. Just as my thighs clench together and a moan falls from my mouth, my orgasm drips out of me and slips down my thigh as everything goes black.

Dirt and chalk crusts around my mouth as I come to, with Royce placing me back onto the ground in the back of the small garage, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Roy!” I gasp. “What happened?”

“You may have closed your eyes or somethin’…”

“Yeah,” I growl. “Or something… or I fucking passed out.”

He tosses my jeans and panties at me and I slip into them, careful not to stand too quickly. “Was it after I came at least?”

“Yes.” He’s still laughing as he grabs a cigarette from his packet.

“Stop laughing!” I scold him, though I have to fight my own smile.

He snorts. “Never.” Lighting up the end, he places the tip into his mouth and tucks me under his arm. Just as he’s about to lead us out of the shed, his fingers hook in mine and he spins me around until I crash into his hard chest. “One more thing.”

I peer up at him, hypnotized by the way his thick eyelashes fan out over his tanned skin. “What?”

Smoke releases from between his puffy lips. “Whatever is going on with you and that fuckboy, I need to know about. This is serious, Jade. It goes deeper than me being a possessive control freak over you, you hear?”

My smile falls, and when his fingers flex around my chin, tilting my face up to his, I know he caught it.

“Duchess, what’s going on?”

My mouth opens, and I know the words are near falling out. So close. But then shame slams its ugly hand over my mouth and I swallow the potential rejection like top-shelf alcohol. How am I going to tell him? How do I tell him? Where do I start? “It’s a really long story, but I will tell you.”

His brows furrow in, worry lines etching into his smooth forehead. He sighs, relaxing his grip. “Later.”

I nod, offering a small, fake smile. “Sure, later.” When he tucks me under his arm and directs me to where everyone is seated, I ignore the pang of loss that throbs in my chest.