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His raw, low voice is in my ear next, and I understand he must have just woken too. “You woke me up with your little moans. Were you dreaming about me?”
I only nod. That’s all he needs to press his hard dick against me. His hands slide behind my thighs and just above the back of my knees. He pushes my legs up and further apart until my knees are practically by my ears. My ass lifts from the mattress and he enters me in one violent stroke.
“Ah!” I scream with pleasure.
Entirely, pleasure. That’s what makes me realize how wet I am. This didn’t hurt even a little bit. I feel swollen around him, and I know I must have been getting wetter and wetter in my dream.
“Waking up to you being all wet and bothered while you sleep? I could get used to this,” he rasps as he pumps in and out of me with a force that makes the bed shake and tests my flexibility.
His upper teeth come to bite on his bottom lip and my eyes get heavier with pleasure. God, he is so beautiful. His ink black hair is tousled from his sleep, his eyes are closed while he enjoys and gives into his own pleasure. When they open, the dark blue sucks me in. I want to love him forever. That’s all I want.
I want to wake up by his side every day, I want his love and his support. I want the way he always lifts me up when I’m down, I want him to let go of the demons.
Every time I think of all the curves life has thrown at me, I get exhausted. Do us humans never get to rest? Do we always have to suffer from the agonies of being alive? Life took my dad away, it took my brother. It traumatized me from the world. It threw lies and fake hopes at me. But Jake? I’m not saying it always feels good, simply that I know it’s genuine. And if life must hurt, why can’t I be in pain by his side?
That’s all I want. To be by his side through it all.
But I know despite tonight, despite the orgasms and the words. By tomorrow morning, he will be back to the words he told me every time we got close since he’s been back: We’re not getting back together.
I know he felt me slip away because his next stroke is harder, it makes me scream in agonizing pleasure. He brings my legs back and locks them around his waist before sitting back on his heels. The position makes him hit straight into my g-spot and my eyes roll to the back of my head. He accelerates his pace and so does my breathing.
I have to wrap my fingers against the handcuffs chain to feel somewhat grounded because I can feel myself going back into pleasurable heaven. His strokes come harder, and I come undone. The orgasm lights up my veins, explodes into my heart, fills my lungs with unexplainable screams of pleasure, and keeps me in a drugged-up state. He finishes in a barely audible groan and freezes.
“My wrists hurt,” I rasp when he finally moves off me.
“Tough,” he says as he starts walking away.
“Jake?” I panic, pulling at the cuffs.
He turns back my way straight away. “I’m only joking.”
His smile is lit up by the moonlight as he hurries back to me. He rests his palms on both my cheeks and gives me a long, loving kiss.
He retreats slightly and observes my face. I see his eyes darting from mine to my lips, my nose. He looks at my neck, my cheeks, and back to my eyes, completely lost in his own world.
“So…those cuffs?” I whisper.
He shakes his head, as if surprised that I am not a silent little doll and rather an actual human being. He nods and undoes them, before rubbing my wrists with his warm fingers. I go to clean myself in his ensuite and come back to bed.
He hugs me tightly in silence, his hands moving around my body. Not in a sexual way anymore. He explores me as if it was the first time he ever felt my body and its shape. I fall asleep with my head on his chest, my leg around his waist and his hand massaging my thigh.
CHAPTER 21
Shadow Preachers – Zella Day
Jamie
I wake up from the sunlight hitting the bed. Memories of my moments with Jake warm my heart, but they’re too quickly overcome by the anxiety of knowing what happened to Nathan.
I slowly open my eyes to find Jake is not next to me. Gradually getting up and rubbing my eyes, I jump in surprise when I see him in front of the bed, sitting on his desk chair and watching me. I instantly know who I’m dealing with. Closed Jake, sociopathic Jake. The one with the secrets and the darkness. The one who doesn’t care if I’m hurting.
“Hi,” I say just before I swallow the rock stuck in my throat.
“We need to talk,” he simply replies. His voice sends a shiver down my spine, and I instantly think of his words from last night.
I hate you almost as much as I love you.
Is that a good or a bad thing?
