31. Jaxcen

Chapter thirty-one

Jaxcen

I f I thought Devon was going to let me walk back to his suite on my own, I’m sorely mistaken. How can I be annoyed by the fact that after he tucked his dick away, he lifted me to wrap my legs around his hips, and then slipped two fingers inside me while he walked us back.

The fact that we passed some of his men, and Marilda pushing Damon in the stroller as she headed home from Miss Barber’s should mortify me, but it didn’t.

I mean, they couldn’t see what he was doing, but the sight of my legs around him alone should have sent shame crashing through me.

Finally back in his suite, he slips his fingers free and lowers me to the ground.

“Strip.”

I do, without protest, my skin already ablaze and desperate for his touch.

As I peel my clothes off, I watch as he disappears into the bathroom, before returning with an armful of towels.

“What are you doing with those?” I ask, and when his gaze meets mine, I swear it’s the most sinful smile I’ve ever witnessed.

“These are to protect my sheets and carpet a little.”

“Oh. Right,” I say nodding, but then frown. “Wait. Protect it from what?”

“In case you puke. ”

Air gets stuck in my throat, and I have to cough to dislodge it, as Devon chuckles, making sure the towels are spread out properly.

His words do two things.

Scare me.

And turn me on.

Which just scares me even more.

I don’t want to throw up. There’s nothing sexy about that, but something about the possibility of him gagging me so bad that it forces my body to protest, is making my clit throb.

“On the bed, little mouse. On your back, head over the end.”

Oh… my…

I’ve seen this before at Cloud 9. A man watching the shape of his dick as it slides down the woman’s throat made easy by her head hanging back off the bed or couch or whatever it is they have her laid out on.

My heart thrashes wildly as I move to the bed, climbing on and getting in position, hanging my head over the end while I look up at him, now upside down.

“If you need me to stop, pinch my leg,” he orders, having already removed his shirt and boots, and now working his jeans and boxers down as his eyes travel over my naked flesh. “Understand, little mouse?”

“Yes.” I try to nod, but it’s hard to do hanging off the end of his bed.

“Remember to try and breathe through your nose. Don’t you pass out on me.”

“Okay.” I watch as he strokes his hard dick, moving closer.

“Open wide, beautiful.”

I’m desperate for him, so he doesn’t need to ask me twice, my lips parting wide as the tip of his dick slides in. And in. And in.

Damn. I forgot how big he is. How girthy. I have to really stretch my jaw to accommodate him, and in no time, I’m gagging, his size even more overwhelming in this position.

“That’s it, little mouse. You can take me. ”

I gag again, this time the action heaving my stomach, so he eases out, and I take in a deep breath, my eyes watering as I swirl my tongue around his tip.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asks. “I can always pop your anal cherry.”

His dark eyes are humorous at my glare, but I reach over my head and grip his hips, drawing him closer again so he sinks deeper as I suck.

“Fuuuck, Jax. Your mouth is heaven.” He starts gliding his dick in and out, the sloppy sounds filling the room before he goes deeper and once again, I gag.

“Fuck, I love the way your throat grips my cock when you gag, little mouse.”

He pushes in further, and again, I gag and heave, but he doesn’t retreat this time.

“Atta girl. I can see my cock in your throat, Jaxcen. It looks as good as it feels.”

He thrusts again, and again my body tries to reject it, and I’m a little worried we’re about to make use of those towels, but then, he leans over my body, and his lips latch onto my clit, and he sucks.

I moan around his cock and he thrusts in and out in shorter rhythm, and with my mind preoccupied on the heat building between my legs, I hardly notice when I gag again.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against my nub, his tongue swirling over it in small little flicks before he starts sucking again.

This entire thing is so hot. I’m beyond aroused. I feel like I’m entering another sphere and I thrust up against his mouth as he thrusts into my throat, a frenzy taking over both of us.

“Fuck, Jax. You take me so good,” he grits out, surging deeper than I thought was possible, my body fighting it even as I chase my own release.

The moment I heave again, he sucks so hard on my clit that I shatter, wave after wave rippling through me, my orgasm so intense and full bodied, that I nearly miss the moment when his seed shoots down my throat, and I fight against my body’s reflex to reject it.

Stars start to dance around the edges of my vision as I blink, but I don’t tap out. I don’t want to make him stop until he’s done.

Another climax spears through my clit, making me gasp and suck his seed down, which is the last thing I remember before everything goes black.

Nothingness.

A void.

So light. So free.

Dark.

Nothingness.

A gasp lurches from my lips as freezing cold water engulfs me, and I start hacking up the remnants of cum lodged in my throat.

“Fuck. Jax.” Devon pants, not from exhaustion but what sounds very much like fear. “You scared the fuck outta me.”

He slumps to the floor with me in his arms, cold water beating down on us from his shower head above, as I spit and cough, gasping for air.

“You were meant to pinch me,” he pants again, his arms so tight around me like he’s scared to let me go.

“Sorry,” I scratch out, my voice husky.

“Please tell me you’re alright?” He cups my face, ignoring the cold stream of water, so I nod.

“I’m okay. Promise.”

“Fuck.” Pressing his forehead to mine, I see it now, so clearly. He really is scared, and not just because I could have died, I suppose, but because he actually cares about me.

“It’s a little cold though.” I try to giggle, and he hurries to turn on the hot water, and a moment later, steam begins to fill the space as the icy blast turns molten.

“Why did you do that?” he rasps, sounding so far from the monster I know.

“I didn’t want to stop you right in the middle of… you know.”

His dark eyes roam over my face like he’s trying to see if I really am alright.

“Never compromise your safety for a guy to nut, little mouse.”

“It wasn’t just a guy.” I shrug. “It was the devil.”

He tries to smirk, but it’s weak at best.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, feeling more emotional than I’d like.

His reaction is unexpected, and my need to be closer to him feels like an overwhelming surge of energy I don’t know what to do with.

“Fuck me?” I whisper, tears welling in my eyes as shame begins to engulf me.

I took it too far. I realise that now.

“Not tonight, little mouse.” He brushes back my wet hair plastered to my face, and even though he looks at me like he’d love nothing more than to have sex with me, he still holds back.

“Why?”

“We should get you to bed. Tomorrow will be a big day.” He shifts me off his lap and stands before holding his hand out to me.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“Christmas Eve.” He tugs me up to stand, gripping both my arms to steady me when I get a little dizzy. “It’s my town’s busiest day of the year.”

“It is?” I ask, curious now, letting him shift me under the hot stream of water as he steps out and starts drying himself.

“Yep. It’s the only day we let outsiders in.”

“You do?”

He nods, ruffling the water from his dark hair with the towel as he watches me.

“We open the gates on Christmas Eve and people who dare, come and see the lights and enjoy the handcrafts we sell, the music, and food.”

Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.

“So Mr I Hate Christmas lets other people enjoy it?” I snicker, and he grins and shrugs.

“Keeps them happy I guess.”

“You’re really just a big softie, aren’t you?” I tease, and he glares playfully at me.

“Like fuck.” And then he reaches in and flicks the hot water off, laughing at my scream as cold water rushes over me again.

“Arsehole!” I yell, hearing him laugh all the way back into his room.

Quickly flicking the hot water back on, I let it wash over me, feeling the loss of a different kind of warmth Devon brings me so easily.

And no, I’m not talking about the warmth he induces between my legs.

I’m talking about the warmth that fills my chest whenever he’s near. The warmth that I can’t ever remember feeling until we crossed paths.

It’s a warmth I want to hang onto.

I finish up in the shower, hoping that once we are under the covers of his bed, he’ll change his mind and want to have sex with me, but when I slip in and he pulls me into his side, I know he meant what he said, and it leaves me feeling perplexed.

Devon Marx doesn’t shy away from sex. He’d go all night long if he really wanted to, so, with a heavy heart I realise that perhaps he just really doesn’t want to.

Maybe he’s nearly done with me warming his sheets.

I may be inexperienced and naive, but I never thought this was more than it is.

He kidnapped me. Lied to me to keep me safe. And has been using my body as his plaything. Nothing more.

His big hands are like magic wands, putting me to sleep by their gentle strokes up and down my back as he holds me close. His touch quickly chases away my worries, and before I know it, sleep is dragging me under to dreams of a tall shadowed man that chases me through the dark, his laugh wicked, but his kiss familiar .

When I finally rouse the next morning, Christmas Eve morning, Devon is nowhere in sight.

Dragging myself out of the comfort of his sheets, I find another handwritten note for me on the bedside table.

It’s Christmas Eve, little mouse. Wear the red set under the red dress so I can unwrap you later. x D

Maybe everything is alright. Maybe last night’s worries were unfounded, because he wants to unwrap me later.

That has to be a good sign, right?

Not that it matters. I have to go back to my life as soon as he finds the psychopath out to get revenge by killing me. Then it will be back to the daily grind. Working a desk job that brings me no fulfilment.

Eddie wasn’t wrong.

I have no skills. Hell, the data entry position is a job share, and when the other lady comes back from maternity leave, I’ll be back in the mailroom full time.

God, I want out of that life.

But what can I do? Admin for the rest of my life?

That is my qualification, but I just did that to please Eddie. To please my father.

What would I have done if I wanted to please myself?

I have no idea. I have no interests besides Cloud 9.

Okay, so that isn’t true. I love shoes. Like a lot. And fine clothes. Suits that make a woman look powerful, yet exude femininity and tease onlookers, with sexy frills and high split skirts, or a blouse that ties up at the neckline with the satin of a ribbon, but hints to the cleavage underneath through the lace that finishes at the top of the bustline.

Shopping isn’t something I can make a living from.

I have no friends. Presley is the closest thing I have to a friend, but I don’t get to see her often even though we live in the same city.

Eddie prefers it that way. No friends. No anyone.

People bring their drama, and we don’t need it.

That’s what Eddie says, but now, I think it’s more than that.

I think it’s just another way to control me. To keep me naive and dependent on him as my only person.

I miss the boy he was, because the man he is sucks.

Pushing away all thoughts of Eddie and my lack of a life, I decide that for now, I have one, so I quickly shower and dress just as my devil requested, and then I make my way out into the bustling street.

It takes me a minute, but I eventually spot Devon, helping to carry some boxes to the stalls that are being set up along the road.

I grin.

He’s wearing the Santa hat again, and he’s clearly not happy about it.

Not able to wipe my smile from my face, I walk over to him, and when he looks up, he glares, although it holds no real fire.

“Don’t start,” he grunts, dusting his hands off before wiping them on his jeans.

“Don’t start what? I didn’t say anything,” I say, innocently batting my lashes.

“You don’t have to, it’s written all over your face.” He lifts an accusing brow and I beam, turning my sights on Allegra who is unpacking homemade Christmas snow globes and placing them on the stall table.

“Hey Allegra.” I grin, getting her attention, which is always mischievous. “He looks good in the Santa hat, doesn’t he?”

“He does.” She nods enthusiastically. “Wait until you see him tonight.”

“What’s he doing tonight?” Now she really has piqued my interest .

“Tonight is the night all the men in town dress up as Santa, and not the kind with round bellies and wrinkly eyes. These Santas are as sexy as sin.”

“What do you know about sexy?” Devon mutters, opening another box for Allegra to start unpacking. “You’re twelve.”

She gasps, nearly dropping one of the snow globes, but manages to catch it in time and place it safely on the table. “You know damn well I’m sixteen.”

He scoffs. “Barely. And sixteen year olds shouldn’t be looking at older men and thinking they’re sexy.”

“Then perhaps you need to hire uglier guards.” She sneers, although playfully.

“Perhaps I should just lock you and Eden up for the night to make sure you can’t get into any trouble.”

Her mouth drops open as she jerks her head back like he just slapped her with an invisible hand. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” Devon smirks, leaning in and getting in her face.

“You know I’d escape. I can break into anything. And I can break out of anything as well.”

“Should we put your theory to the test?” He quips and Allegra’s face turns bright red with anger.

“Ah, Devon. I really need your help with something.” I cut in, wanting to save the poor girl from the situation escalating purely due to a battle of wills.

Taking his hand, I tug him away from Allegra, who pokes her tongue out at him before turning her back and focusing on her work.

“Fucking teenagers,” Devon mutters, and I grin.

He sounds like a dad or big brother.

I can tell he cares about Allegra, but she’s certainly mastered the ability to get under his skin without getting herself killed.

Devon and I spend the day working side by side, helping the town’s people set up their stalls and prepare for the night ahead. Devon’s eyes travel over me every minute, leaving a searing path that gets harder to ignore each time he does it .

He must like me in red. Or maybe it’s because I’m wearing what he ordered.

Yeah, it’s probably that.

A few times, we find ourselves under a mistletoe, which I’m pretty sure is care of Allegra. I can hear her giggling each time Devon makes use of the Christmas tradition, taking me off guard and smacking his lips to mine before he whispers something dirty in my ear.

“I want to eat you.”

“I can’t wait to unwrap you and pash your clit until you soak my face.”

Or, my favourite. “I want to rip those panties off and fuck you right here on Main Street.”

Very inappropriate given there are minors around, but I’m pretending there are no such things here to witness something that dampens my panties from just the idea of it.

In the late afternoon, Devon and his men disappear to have a meeting, something which I notice they do a lot, so I go up to Devon’s suite and find my phone, calling my sister to see if she’s alright.

She cries at first, apologising profusely for the role she played in what happened after I got to her apartment, but I assured her I’m alright, and asked how Mum and Dad were.

I didn’t really hear what she said, mainly because I don’t really care, and eventually, I ended the call, feeling heavy at the fact I won’t be spending Christmas with her.

I miss my sister.

Around 6pm, the smell of cooking food draws me back down to the street, where several barbeques are fired up with sizzling meat and vegetables cooking. That’s when all the Santas appear.

Cheers ring out from the female community members as the Santas grin, no hat or beard hiding their identity for now.

I have to say, that’s one bunch of sexy Santas.

It’s weird seeing Devon’s men wearing red suits instead of their black clad uniforms. Especially Miles. He’s just too big to be a Santa .

“If you keep ogling my men like that, I’m gonna bring out my gun.”

Devon’s sinister voice rasps against my ear as he pulls me back against him, and a giggle escapes me as we both watch this tight knit community laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

“You promise?” I ask, biting my lip to hold back my teasing grin, and Devon spins me in his arms.

“Stop it. You’ll get my men killed, and I need them tonight.”

“To play Santa?”

“To protect my town.”

His words are laced with concern, and I glance over my shoulder again, noticing for the first time that although the men are wearing Santa suits, I can see the outline of some of their weapons underneath.

“Is something going on?” I ask, peering up at him to see his eyes taking in the street.

“It’s always a risk opening the gates to the public,” he murmurs, as if his attention is caught on something else.

“Are you concerned that the man trying to kill me will come here? Does he know where you live?”

Those deep dark eyes drop to mine now, roaming my face as he speaks quietly. “You’re safe here, little mouse.”

He tries to assure me with a wicked smile and a wink… So why don’t I believe him?