18. Devon

Chapter eighteen

Devon

I want to fuck her until she sees reason. Until she understands that I’m trying to protect her. And if she thinks that fucking slap will deter me, will get me to let her go to fend for herself against a fucking killer, then she’s more naive than I thought.

With a growl, I grip the back of her neck, ignoring her whimper and drag her over to my desk, swiping my hand across it to clear the papers off before shoving her face down.

“Stop! What are you doing?” she cries, but there’s no way I’m stopping. No way I’m letting her leave my fucking office without knowing how I fucking feel.

Shoving her dress up, I tear the pink lacy panties clean off her in one swift tug, while holding her in place easily with my other hand pressed between her shoulders as she tries to buck me off.

“Devon, stop.”

“No. You don’t fucking mean that,” I snap, sliding my fingers between her legs to find her moist wet cunt already primed for me. “See, little mouse. You want this as much as I do.”

“I don’t understand why,” she whispers, and there’s pain in her words which I know stems from the fucked up way she’s been raised.

“Let me show you,” I rasp, dropping to my knees and spreading her wide.

She whimpers as I position her, exposing her to me, but it’s a needy whimper that just makes my cock even harder, aching to bury inside that tight hot cunt.

Surging forward, I press my nose to her bare arse and glide my tongue between her folds, revelling in the way she jolts but pushes back into my face, desperate for what I have to give.

“Mmmm, Jax. You taste so fucking good,” I mumble against her cunt, sinking my tongue into her heat as my fingers move to her clit.

“Dev,” she pants, and fuck, I like hearing that.

I know she’s fucking confused about what’s happening here. Hell, so am I, but I’m not letting her slip away. I’m not letting her go until she’s sampled everything I can offer her.

And afterwards, I have to hope I can handle her walking away.

I’m not foolish enough to think I can give her a good life.

I live in a gated community that’s kept under guard. I take in women. Victims of heinous assaults. I’m a fucking Marx. Danger follows us, and as much as I want to keep my little mouse, I don’t want to fence her in. I don’t want to put her in danger. I just want her to live.

Like, really live.

And yeah, she might have my kid, and if that happens, I’ll make sure they want for nothing, but they’ll both be better off living their own life.

Until Christmas.

I meant what I fucking said.

I’ll steal her away every fucking Christmas until my dying day, and I’ll fucking devour her.

My tongue and fingers continue their assault on her needy cunt, and it’s not long before she’s crying out, her orgasm ripping through her like a freight train of pleasure.

“Fucking beautiful,” I mutter as I stand, quickly freeing my cock and pressing it to her entrance before the last wave of her climax ebbs .

Then I surge in. She cries out again, and I feel it, her walls clenching around my cock, as a second orgasm engulfs her.

I fucking make good use of the way her inner walls clamp around my length, and piston into her quickly, already too close myself to go easy.

“Do you feel that, Jax?” I ask, pounding into her from behind, my gaze zeroing in on her puckered rose, winking at me like a fucking beacon.

“What?” she pants, before I spit on her exposed arse and rub my saliva over her hole. “What are you doing?”

“Do you feel how good we fit together?” I ask, pressing my middle digit into her a little, and she stiffens. “Relax, love. You can take my finger.”

“I don’t know if I can,” she admits, but I chuckle, slowly easing it in a little further as my thrusts slow, my gaze transfixed on the way her flower opens for me.

“Fuck, yes. Open up that filthy hole for me. Let me in.”

Another whimper falls past her lips, muffled by the way her face presses into my desk, but she relaxes, and her arse sucks my finger in greedily.

“Atta girl, Jax. You’re doing so well,” I praise, noting how much more she relaxes when I say that.

Fuuuck. She’s desperate for anything I can give her, and fuck, I want to give her everything.

Fucking everything.

I speed up my thrusts again, letting her feel the fullness from both sides. I gather more saliva in my mouth and drop it to her arse, rubbing it in with a second finger, and the moment I slide my index finger inside her arse to join the other, she comes hard.

“Fuck, yes,” I moan, feeling my nuts tighten as heat engulfs me, her walls doing what they do so fucking well, milking me, shooting pleasure through my entire body as I fill her with cum.

I still, balls deep inside her, letting each spurt go, hoping it will give me what I want.

And fuck, I have no idea why I want this, to impregnate her, but I fucking do. I’ve never wanted anything more.

When my hearing returns, the sounds of our panting breaths fill the room, and I collapse over her, peppering the back of her neck with kisses I never give to any other women.

“Why did you do that?” Jaxcen asks, her voice husky, and out of breath.

“Did you not like it, little mouse?” I ask against her ear, just another part of her I can’t fucking get enough of, before I push myself up and slip free, rolling her onto her back, still on my desk.

“You know I did,” she admits, her big blue gaze coming to mine now that she can see me. “But why did you do that after…”

Her frown is etched with confusion as she trails off, and I’m not sure if it’s from whatever is going through her head, or the fact I’ve just lifted her legs up to rest her knees over my shoulders.

“After what?” I urge, and she blinks a few times, as if coming out of a trance.

“I just slapped you. Told you I want to leave. And in response, you made me come and…”

“And fucked you?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her cheeks so red and flushed from the three orgasms I gave her just minutes ago.

“I was just showing you why you should stay.” I wag my brows, and she rolls her eyes.

“You only want me to stay so you can fuck me,” she quips, and I don’t fucking like her tone, or her meaning. Like she’s just another fucking notch.

Three days ago, I would never have imagined the last forty-eight hours, but they’ve happened, and I’m not stupid enough to keep denying how she makes me feel.

Fucking alive.

“No, little mouse. I want you to stay so I can worship you.”

My eyes fall to her exposed pussy, my cum glistening on her folds, a few drizzles oozing free.

“Well, that won’t do,” I mutter, scooping the trails of white jizz up with my fingers, and forcing it back inside her.

“Hey.” She tries to squirm away. “What are you doing?”

I lift a brow at her. Did she not hear anything I said last night?

“I’m making sure my cum doesn’t leak out.” I deadpan and her eyes widen.

“You can’t be serious, Devon. You don’t want to get me pregnant.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“For one, we don’t know each other. We can’t have a child together if we don’t know one another. Plus, I can’t stay. I have to leave.”

This time I roll my eyes, my hands running up and down her bare thighs.

“Why, to save Eddie?”

“No,” she whispers, her eyes falling from mine with shame. “I’m sorry I slapped you. I don’t know why I did that.”

I sigh, reaching forward and hooking my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me again. “You did that because you’re feeling trapped.”

Her eyes turn glassy.

“Yes,” she admits quietly, “but not by you.”

My brows hitch as I shoot her a ‘really’ look, and her face softens.

“Okay, not only by you.”

I smirk, and a faint one tugs at her lips too.

Sometimes I forget why she’s here with me.

She’s a decent woman. Kind. Selfless. A little too fucking selfless if you ask me.

She certainly doesn’t deserve this shit, or the way I’ve treated her.

Easing her legs off my shoulders, I lower her feet to my desk and point sternly at her.

“Stay there. Don’t move.”

She bites her lip, nibbling on the plump flesh, making me want to kiss her and forget about everything, but that will have to wait. I’ve distracted her with sex far too much. Now’s the time for some truths.

Stepping away from her, I move to the Marx family portrait on the wall and swing it open like a door to reveal my safe. Keying in the code, it beeps and unlatches and I reach in to retrieve the black pouch.

“There’s something I need you to hear,” I say, turning back to her and watching how she tracks my movements, her gaze locked on the pouch in my hand.

Slowly, I pull her phone free, and she goes to grab it, but I shake my head, holding it up high, out of her reach.

“Uh, uh. Not yet, little mouse. Just listen.”

Ignoring her confused frown, I open her phone and go to the voicemails, tapping on the first one to play.

Message Received from: Eddie “Good morning, Jaxcen. I’m a little surprised that I’m having to make this call. It’s quite an inconvenience, as I’m sure you already know, so I don’t know why you’re behaving like this. The rules haven’t changed. You call me every morning at nine, yet it’s just ticked over to eleven. I’m looking forward to hearing what has you so busy that you can’t call your fiancé.”

Red hot heat has engulfed Jaxcen’s neck and cheeks, her eyes a little glassy, and it’s hard to tell if it’s humiliation, or anger.

“So that’s Eddie?” I ask, and she gives me a single, angry nod.

Anger is good. Although I’m not sure if she’s angry at me or her fiancé.

“He has rules for you?”

Again, she gives me a single nod.

“You call him every morning at nine? ”

“Yes,” she snaps, her eyes not on me but the phone in my hand.

“Does he always act like a pompous arse?”

She shrugs. “He never used to.”

Hmmm. He never used to. Probably before the church, aka a cult, brainwashed him.

I can see she doesn’t want to say much, so I play the next voicemail.

Message Received from: Eddie “Jaxcen, I’m not sure why you are doing this. Have you been watching those disgusting videos online again? You know how corrupting they are, Jaxcen. I hope you haven’t relapsed. I don’t think Father Peters will be happy to hear that. In fact, perhaps we should discuss your behaviour with your father. I don’t want to resort to that, but I will if you don’t call me back soon.”

Tears well in her eyes and her lower lip wobbles, but her cheeks are still flushed, and I’m pretty sure it’s with shame and humiliation.

“So watching porn has corrupted you in the past has it? And now he thinks you’ve relapsed and gone down the rabbit hole?”

“I guess,” she snaps, and I grip her jaw, forcing her to look at me.

“Has he involved your old man in this bullshit before? About you watching porn?”

She tries to sit up and shove me back, but I drop her phone to my desk and pin her wrist to the surface, pressing my nose to hers.

“Are you angry at me, little mouse?”

“Those messages are private. You have no right to listen to them. ”

“Maybe not. But I needed to know what we were up against with your family. How far they’d go to search for you. And so far, this is what we have. Two voicemails from your fiancé, not even fucking worried about your sudden absence, instead more worried about what depravities you’re getting up to.”

“It’s still not your business,” she whispers, tears spilling over.

“Maybe not, but now it is, and for the record, Jaxcen. I’m on your side.”

I rear back and hit play on the next voicemail, watching her expression as her fiancé continues to be a dick.

Message Received from: Eddie “Do you not understand the concept of what soon is Jaxcen? I’m so disgusted with how you are treating me. This isn’t the behaviour of a dutiful wife. This is immature childish behaviour that requires strict punishment. I’m coming over.”

“Hmmm. Strict punishment. How does he punish you?” I ask, but she looks away, a sob escaping. “How does he fucking punish you, Jaxcen?!” I yell, and she sneers.

“Not like you… he just… belittles me. Yells at me until I feel like nothing better than a pile of dog shit on the bottom of his shoe.”

“He has no right to do that. Don’t you get that? No one has the right to make you feel that way.”

She shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest while looking anywhere but at me, so I play the next message.

Message Received from: Eddie “Stop ignoring me, Jaxcen. I know you can hear the buzzer, and since you aren’t at work you must be there. That’s it. I’m calling your father. ”

Her eyes widen at that message, panic contorting her expression.

“Oh my God. Did he call my dad?”

“What do you think?” I ask sincerely, and she covers her eyes with her arm. “This can’t be happening.”

“Unfortunately it is,” I say before hitting play on the next message.

Message Received from: Dad “Jaxcen, it’s your father. Edward called, and I must say, I am shocked with your behaviour. I raised you to be better than this. If you don’t call him or me in the next thirty minutes, I will have to involve Dr Xavier.”

She bolts upright, nearly headbutting me, panic gripping her as she tries to push me away to get free.

“I have to go. Oh my God. I have to go.”

“Hold up,” I say, gripping her upper arms and holding her in place, her arse still perched on my desk. “Why does that message make you want to leave? When you say you have to go, where do you mean?”

“You don’t get it. I can’t… No. I can’t do it.” She shakes her head furiously, the terror in her tone more extreme than when she thought she was going to die on Tuesday night.

“Can’t do what?” I cup her face so she can’t look anywhere but at me, desperately wanting to ease her mind, although I’m not sure what from exactly.

Is it her fiancé, her dad, or Dr Xavier that has her so panicked?

“I can’t do that again. I can’t go through that.” She tries to shake her head, but my hands hold her in place. “Oh my god, are there more messages?”

“Yes,” I sigh. “Are you sure you want to listen to them?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I need to know what’s happening. ”

Needing a moment, I press my forehead to hers, and the way her lids flutter closed shows me how much she trusts me. She’s not scared of me. But she is scared of those voicemails.

Sighing, I ease back and release my grip on her face, pressing play on the next message.

Message Received from: Mum “Jaxcen darling, it’s your mother. Your father told me what’s happening. Please stop misbehaving. This isn’t acceptable. You’re about to be married, sweetheart. You can’t treat your future husband like this. And those explicit websites… Oh Jaxcen. Why would you look at them? Edward sent your father the links. Why would you watch such depraved behaviour? Are you taking drugs? That has to be it. Oh dear. We’ll have to call Dr Xavier.”

A loud sob escapes her as her mum speaks, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, shaking her head, her eyes pleading with me.

“Please no. No, no no. I can’t do it. I can’t.”

“Hey.” I pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her. “Shhhh, love. It’ll be alright. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

And fuck. The words are the truest thing I’ve spoken in a long time. I know she has to leave here eventually, but I’ll be fucked if I send her back into their lives.

“Why would he do this?” She sobs, and I let her vent, I let her cry, and not once do I break my hold on her. Not once do I let her feel alone.

“Jax,” I plead as she falls quiet, easing back to look at her red puffy eyes, and tear stained cheeks. “I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She nods, although I’m not sure if she believes me. Not really.

“I think that’s enough,” I say, not wanting to put her through any more, but she shakes her head.

“No,” she barks, batting at her tears. “How many messages are there?”

“Two more,” I admit, and she clears her throat and sits taller, trying to compose herself.

“I want to hear them.”

“Maybe later—”

“No. Now!” She glares and I give in, nodding before I press play once again.

Message Received from: Presley “Jax, what the fuck? The olds are freaking the fuck out and are on the phone to that psycho doctor they sent you to when you were little. You know I don’t care what you do, hell, I fucking love porn, but don’t let them get their clutches into you again. I can’t bear to see them kill your spark. Not again. Not ever. “I will try to stall them on my end, but pack a bag and go somewhere. Anywhere they can’t find you. Don’t use your bank card. If they involve the cops they can track that. “Shit, Jax. I love you sis. Please stay safe.”

This time, her tears are different. Her expression morphs into love and longing.

“Your sister?” I ask, and she nods, smiling at me through her tears.

“Presley. She’s my big sister.” She shrugs. “You’d probably like her better than me. Most people do.”

I frown. “Fuck that,” I snap, and her eyes go wide. “She’s not you, so no, I won’t like her more than you. Fucking ever.”

Her brows hitch, and fuck, her expression is filled with a level of innocence I keep forgetting she has .

“I don’t get what you see in me,” she whispers, and fuck, if that statement isn’t heartbreaking.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, little mouse. You’d see a remarkable woman. A woman that makes me want to be a better man.”

She giggles. “But we only met a couple of days ago.”

“Exactly. How does that even happen?” I graze my thumb over her plump lips. “Imagine how good I’ll want to be after a week.”

That makes her laugh, and fuck, I love the sound of it. I’d much rather that than these heartbreaking tears.

“I don’t know if you should listen to the last message,” I admit, and her smile fades.

“Why? Who is it from?”

Maybe I shouldn’t tell her, but keeping her in the dark isn’t doing her any favours. It might help to keep her here. At least until I can find this Mr V fucker and get rid of him. Then I can deal with her family.

“It’s from the doctor.”

Panic engulfs her expression, and I realise now, that her real terror is aimed at this man.

I want to know why. I want to know everything, but now isn’t the time, and I don’t want to force her to divulge that secret. The dirty ones, yes, but the real ones that plague her, that terrify her, no. I want her to reveal those secrets when she’s ready.

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” I ask, and she nods, wrapping her arms around herself like she is trying to hide.

I press play anyway.

Message Received from: Unknown Number “Hello, Jaxcen, this is Doctor Alfred Xavier. I treated you at the Holly River Estate when you were younger. Do you remember? “I was shocked to receive a call from your father. He is extremely distressed. I know I don’t have to remind you how hard it will be to return to the facility, especially as an adult. Our adult program is much more intense, but perhaps something you will benefit from. We have merged with a church, and together we do God’s work to help our patients. I think this will be of great benefit to you before your wedding. Please call me back. Otherwise, I’ll likely show up tomorrow with a community treatment order.”

If I ever had a doubt as to who was the monster in her nightmares, I don’t anymore.

She’s trembling, rocking back and forth on my desk, her gaze locked on my chest, but her eyes distant.

“Is he the one you really don’t want to see, Jax?” I ask, hooking my finger under her chin again to gain her attention, and as her blue gaze meets mine, she nods.

“I can’t go back to him. I would rather die.” Fury contorts her face. “I swear if you let him come and get me, I’ll throw myself off that cliff, Devon. I will. I’ll do it. I’m not even kidding.”

“Okay.” I hold my hands up, needing her to stop speaking that way. “But that fucker will never get in here. He’ll never get past my men, and if he even dares to approach our gates, I’ll order my men to kill him on the spot.”

Even though she’s crying, she nods, believing my declaration.

“In fact, if your fuckhead fiancé comes knocking, he’ll meet the same fucking fate,” I admit, and again she nods, completely content with that.

“Okay.”

“Good.” I nod. “Okay.”

And as if the man himself has heard our conversation, Jaxcen’s phone starts ringing, and Eddie’s name flashes across the screen.