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“That’s it, angel. Taste me, learn what I taste like and get used to it, because my come is the only come you’ll ever get to taste.”
He withdrew his finger, but the taste lingered. Despite the fog and darkness keeping my brain from forming coherent thoughts, I somehow knew what had happened, and I hated myself for the way my mouth watered.
Hated myself for wanting more.
Jacob pulled me into his arms like he had done many nights before, and kissed the top of my head. “Sleep now, my perfect angel.”
His command landed deep inside of me, and I allowed the darkness to consume me once more.
When I awoke, I was back in my cell, tucked under the itchy blanket on the cot bed. My head thumped, a sign I now knew to be a result of whatever drug Jacob laced my food with. The dream I had started playing out like a movie in front of my very eyes.
I lowered my gaze, discovering that I was neither naked nor wearing the summer dress I had on when I made my attempt to escape the island.
Someone had dressed me in clean shorts and a tank top, and my feet were no longer covered in dirt. But what bothered me more than anything was the uncomfortable ache settled between my legs.
Chapter 17
“Morning, angel.” Jacob’s cheerful voice reached me from where I sat on the bed, brooding over the events of the night before, certain that it hadn’t been a bad dream. “How did you sleep?”
Disgust curled in my stomach at the memory of Jacob rubbing his come over my tongue while I was fighting the effects of the drugs he’d given me. The man was a psychopath.
A charming psychopath, but still a psychopath.
“Angel? I know you’re awake.”
I sighed, crossing to the door, and harnessing every ounce of fury rushing through my body. “Why did you do it, Jacob?”
“Do what?” he asked after a short pause, amusement lacing his voice.
“You know what,” I spat, my hands balling into fists by my side. “What you did to me last night.”
A dark chuckle filtered through. “You mean washing you, so that you’re clean and wearing fresh clothes? Or allowing you to sleep in our bed so you didn’t have to sleep on the cot bed for a night?”
My jaw dropped at his audacity. He made it sound like he’d done me a favor. “I’m talking about you…” I trailed off, my cheeks heating and my eyes dropping to the floor.
“Me eating your pussy, angel?” My gaze whipped back up, my rage reaching boiling point when he continued talking. “There’s no shame in saying it, Charlotte. And I have no shame in doing it to you. I like eating your pussy. No, I love eating your pussy, and I have every intention of eating it every day for the rest of our lives.”
For a few seconds, I could only gape at the steel door, picturing his smug face on the other side. “And what if I don’t want you to?” I forced the words past the lump in my throat, unable to keep the emotion out of my voice.
Another deep chuckle greeted me. “You really think you have a choice, angel?”
The muscles in my jaw ached from gritting my teeth so hard. “You’re a sick fucker, Jacob, you know that?”
His sigh floated through the door. “Angel, do I need to give you another lesson to remind you about cursing?”
My heart stilled at his threat, and the memory of the pain I experienced when he spanked me reared its head. I couldn’t go through that again; the skin had only just stopped burning.
I squeezed my eyes closed to prevent tears of frustration from falling. I didn’t know how much more I could take of Jacob’s psychopathic tendencies. My plan to convince him that I could be the perfect girl he wanted until I could break free suddenly seemed like an impossible task.
Resignation slammed into me like a freight train.
I had to accept it.
I was trapped in this cell, on this island, with Jacob, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.
Chapter 18
Time holds no meaning when you’re locked in a cell. Without a clock or a window to watch the sun rise and fall, I had no clue how much time had passed since the day I woke up in the cell.
