Brick, the Houston boss, showed up at the house multiple times, which was weird. Jag said Brick’s help was essential in tracking me down and storming Los Guerreros’ compound, so I figured maybe they were friends. Only, Jag said bosses didn’t have friends, let alone become friends with each other. Brick and Jag were up to something, though. Sometimes, they spent hours in Jag’s study. Other times, they left in a car and returned late at night.
“Hey, doll.”
My eyes fluttered open to find Jag crouching next to me, running his fingers down the side of my face.
“Hey.” I stretched and grinned, happy to see him.
“Why are you sleeping down here?”
I pushed to a sitting position on the couch and glanced around the library. “I guess I couldn’t stay awake. I was waiting for you.”
Jag smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Something really big was happening, something that had everyone in the house on edge. Jag was beyond stressed out and looked exhausted. He had allowed his short stubble to grow out, and there was more gray sprinkled throughout his dark hair than I remembered. This was why I hadn’t mentioned Milo’s behavior to Jag. He was just so damn worn out. I didn’t want to add my petty issues with Milo to the mountain of stress he was already dealing with.
“Well, I’m here now, doll,” Jag drawled. The sensual way his voice rolled off his tongue raised goose bumps on my arms. I hadn’t heard that sweet Texas accent he would slip into whenever he was relaxed or turned on in a long time.
Jag stood and offered a hand. I took it and he tugged me off to my feet. The blanket I had tossed over my legs got all tangled up in my feet and I stumbled into Jag’s broad chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around me, holding me close. I took advantage of the moment and buried my nose into his shirt, inhaling his familiar scent.
“Miri.”
I was lost in a haze of lust. Surrounded by hard muscles while pressed against the front of Jag’s suit, still perfectly crisp even though it was well after midnight. The silk of his tie felt incredible on my skin.
“Miri.” Jag spoke louder while stepping back and gently removing my hands from his body. I blinked up at him, surprised at the intensity of the hurt I felt when he put distance between us. Only, I didn’t think he wanted the distance any more than I did. Jag’s blue eyes were dark, his pupils huge. I watched the muscles in his jaw pulse, straining as if he were holding back the urge to throw me over his shoulder and drag me to his room caveman style.
Wait… why wasn’t he doing just that?
My stomach clenched and I had to muffle a sob.
“Are you… do you not want me anymore?” My breath hitched and my vision blurred. What if Jag didn’t want to touch me? If he found me gross because Raoul had his hands all over me, raped me. I inhaled a shaky breath. “Is it… is it because he…? Am I…? Do you think I’m ruined?”
Jag’s mouth fell open. Heavy hands landed on my shoulders and my tall lover bent to meet me eye-to-eye.
“Doll, what they did to you was unspeakable.” His teeth clenched and once again, I could see him holding back. Only this time it wasn’t lust. It was fury. Jag squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deep a few times before seeking out my eyes. Scanning my face, his expression softened. “But nothing, and I mean nothing, could ever stop me from wanting you.”
I bit my lip, confused as to why Jag pushed me away if he still wanted me.
“I need you,” I said, my voice whiny. It was all I could do to blink back the tears that burned as hot as the blush I felt on my cheeks. I didn’t want to appear pathetic and needy, but it was exactly how I felt. “I-I love you, Jag.”
“Miri…” Jag pulled his hands back and dragged them both down his rough cheeks. “I love you too, which is why I can’t… I don’t want to take advantage of you.” His face was a mixture of pain and anger. “What they did… I wasn’t sure if you wanted…”
Jag’s sentence tapered off and I finally realized what he was saying. He was unsure if it was too soon to touch me in a sexual way. If I was too traumatized to make love.
“I’m okay, Jag.” I stepped into his space and wound my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest once more. “I need you to take it away. I don’t want the last person who touched me to be…” I sniffed and smothered a cry, my fingers digging into his lower back as I breathed in his comforting scent. “Take the pain away, please?”
Even though I couldn’t see his face, when Jag’s arms surrounded me and held tight, I knew he understood. After a moment, his hands slid up my sides to cup my face. Jag tilted my head back and lowered his mouth to press a soft kiss on my lips.
“You’re not still hurting?” he asked, his sharp gaze running up and down my arms.
Most of the cuts had been shallow and were almost completely healed. Two or three of the deeper ones still burned, but nothing I couldn’t handle.
I nodded as much as I could with his hands still framing my face. “I’m fine.” Not really, but I thought I could be if Jag would replace the horrors my body suffered with new memories and sensations. Pleasure instead of pain. I licked my lips. “I just need you.” It might be too soon considering what I went through, but for some reason, I needed this. I needed him to wash away Raoul’s filthy touch.
Jag breathed out against my mouth, a faint growl rumbling in his throat. I closed my eyes and waited. When he made his decision, I wasn’t prepared. Jag all but attacked my mouth, hungrily devouring it, claiming it. Claiming me. His tongue thrust past my lips in a complete show of dominance and ownership. I melted in his arms, clutching his bulging biceps to keep my legs from giving out. Jag swallowed every one of my gasps, every single moan. It felt as if he took possession of my very soul as I stood in his firm embrace.
Without breaking the kiss, Jag swept his arms under my legs and I was being carried up the elegant marble staircase, like a princess rescued by her knight. At the end of the hall, Jag pushed his bedroom door open, stepped inside, and kicked the door shut. He crossed to his huge bed and gently laid me down on the fine cotton sheets. I whimpered when he moved back, my skin cold from the loss of his warmth.
I didn’t need to worry. Jag didn’t go far. He stood at the side of the bed, tall and intimidating, his hungry eyes never leaving mine. “Strip.” His commanding tone was a full octave deeper than normal, rough and laden with desire.
It took me a second to process, but when I did, I hurried and shed my clothes in record time, throwing them to the floor. Jag watched every one of my moves, mesmerized. A shudder ran through me when I noticed his pupils had nearly eclipsed the brilliant blue. Slowly, so damn slowly, Jag unknotted his tie and slid it out of his collar, the zip of expensive silk against the cotton fabric sending electricity down my spine, making my legs tremble.
He continued staring right at me as he meticulously rolled up the tie and placed it on a padded bench at the foot of the bed. Next, Jag shrugged out of his jacket and carefully hung it over the back of a chair. With practiced ease, he undid his cuff links, one at a time, never once breaking eye contact. By the time Jag unbuttoned his shirt, slid it down his powerful arms, and laid it on the bench. My fingers were clutching the sheets, twisting them in my hands. I was desperate to have his body on top of mine. To touch. To feel. To love.
My gaze dropped to the large bulge straining at the crotch of his tailored pants and I sucked in a breath. Jag chuckled when I licked my lips, hungry for a taste of his beautiful cock.
“You’ll have it soon enough,” he said, somehow knowing exactly what I was thinking. Jag slid a hand down over his crotch, squeezed his package through his pants. It was so erotic, I let out a tortured moan.
“Hurry.” My chest was heaving as I squirmed on the cool sheets. I was so wet and needy, I was going to scream at him for worrying about his clothes being perfectly folded if he didn’t touch me soon.
“Stop.” I froze at Jag’s sharp order. “That’s mine.”
I blinked, confused by his rough growl. Jag t
ilted his head toward the juncture of my thighs and a flush of heat bloomed, spreading from my head to my toes. Embarrassed, I yanked my hand from between my legs. I was so horny, I hadn’t realized I was touching myself until Jag told me to stop.
Hands fisted in the bedding, I watched as Jag unzipped his trousers, painstakingly folded them, and placed them on the bench with his other clothes. By the time he was naked, his glorious body on full display, magnificent cock standing out from a dark patch of trimmed hair that trailed down from his abs, I was a keening, squirming mess. Finally, he climbed onto the bed. Jag used his thick, muscular thighs to push my legs apart until he was kneeling between them.
When he wrapped a big hand around his erection and began to languidly stroke it, my back arched and my hips bucked off the bed.
“Please,” I moaned, arching my back in a futile attempt to rub against that perfect, meaty cock. I wanted it to fill me up, stretch me wide, and fuck away the horrific memories—the pain, and the filth left behind after what happened. I wanted him. To make sure our connection was still as strong as before the nightmare.
Jag released his flushed cock and leaned over to give me a deep, searing kiss. With his hands braced on either side of my head, Jag kept his weight off of me, our mouths the only part of us touching. My body literally ached for him to press his bulk down on me, crush me into the mattress, cover me with his hot, heavy muscles. I reached for his waist to do just that, but Jag was faster. He grabbed my hands and pinned them next to my head, all without stopping his mouth from ravaging mine.
A frustrated growl rumbled in my chest and my body trembled as I lost all control over my desire. Jag huffed out a laugh against my mouth and I bit his lip in response, hoping to urge him on. I felt him smile against my lips and wanted to scream. The teasing was driving me out of my mind. When Jag lowered his hips until the searing heat of his hard, smooth length slid along my slick crease, I could have cried with relief. He released my hands and fell to his elbows. Staring into my eyes, Jag slowly dragged his cock back and forth between my legs, the fat head rubbing against my clit and stealing my breath with each pass. He lowered his head and sucked one of my tight nipples into his mouth. The dual stimulation made my eyes roll back and I let out a strangled cry. Jag wasn’t swayed by my begging. He continued slowly swirling his velvet tongue around the sensitive bud and gave it a light nip before releasing it. My hips jerked up, increasing the friction from his cock.
Jag groaned through clenched teeth. “Fuck, doll. I’m not even inside you and you’ve got me on the edge.”
“More,” I pleaded. It felt so good, but I was still achingly empty.
“Jesus,” he rasped. Jag’s hips stilled and I wanted to burst into tears. Before I could protest, he claimed my mouth in a savage kiss, releasing me and leaving me wanting. Then I felt the tickle of Jag’s hair brushing across my skin. My lover, my protector, my savior, dropped sweet soulful kisses on every cut inflicted, every scar left behind on my body until tears filled my eyes and I was gasping for breath, the enormity of the moment overwhelming me.
“These mean nothing, Miri. Let me take the pain, endure it for you.” He kissed another. “I love every bit of you, even the scars you bear that show the world how strong you are.”
Spots clouded my vision as I struggled for air. It was too much. My cheek felt damp, but I couldn’t move to wipe away the tears. Right as I became desperate to breathe, Jag pressed one last kiss, this one on my lips, then reared up and thrust forward brutally, impaling me on his massive cock, bringing me back from the edge of the emotional cliff I was teetering on.
My body shuddered with relief as I felt the burn of him stretching me open. Jag threw his head back and reared up, pulling his mouth away to allow me to suck in a deep breath. I lifted my head and licked a path up the long line of his tan throat, loving the sandpaper feel of stubble under my tongue. I was damn near panting but Jag hadn’t moved since entering me.
“Miri… God, so fucking good.”
“Jag,” I mewled. His cock throbbed inside the tight walls of my pussy.
Jag still didn’t move and I was becoming desperate. No longer content to wait, I dug my heels into the firm muscles of his ass and raked my nails across his back. Jag hissed and his head dropped so he could hold me with his intense gaze. The feral look in his eyes nearly made me come right then and there. Jag snarled and bit my neck, right over the pulse point beneath my ear.
“Oh my God.” I jerked when his teeth sank into my flesh. The same time he sucked the skin into his mouth, Jag pulled his hips back and slammed back in. The power of his thrust knocked the air right out of my lungs as I screamed his name. “Jag!”
He released the tender skin and laved his tongue over what was probably a dark purple mark. Jag’s mark. “You want me to fuck you?” he whispered against my throat. Jag nipped at my earlobe. The hairs on the back of my neck pricked as his hot breath caressed my sensitive ear.
I nodded and twisted my body beneath him to get more, but Jag was unmovable. He jabbed his tongue in my ear and I squealed.
“I want to hear you say it, doll.”
Holy crap. I had never been so turned on in my life. Breathless, I managed three words.
“Fuck me, Jag.”
With a feral grin, he gave me a sloppy kiss and propped back up on his hands, looming over me like a dark-haired god. Without warning, Jag rolled his hips, sliding that magnificent cock in and out of my wet heat. With each sinuous undulation of his body that would make any male stripper jealous, the bulbous head of his dick not only rubbed that perfect spot inside, but his pelvis ground down on my clit. Within minutes, I was soaring.
“Jag… I’m close… oh God… oh God.”
“Come on, doll, give it to me,” he grunted. Sweat dripped from his temples, his glorious chest glistening in the dark room, the only light from the full moon hanging in the sky and shining through the windows. “Let me hear you scream. Give me your pain, Miri, and I’ll give you pleasure.” Jag continued his steady, rolling rhythm and I exploded, tremors tearing through me as I clenched and pulsed around his cock.
“Jag… Ohhhhh, fuck, fuck…” I couldn’t stop moaning and cursing as Jag took me to heaven. White lights burst behind my eyelids and my entire body tensed as I came. Jag kept right on fucking me through the incredible orgasm, making the aftershocks go on and on until I thought I’d pass out from pleasure.
“That’s it, doll,” he encouraged. “So goddamn fuckin’ gorgeous.” Jag took my mouth again, wet and fierce, teeth and tongues clashing as I continued moaning.
When my climax ended, I expected Jag to speed up his thrusts and chase his own release. Instead, strong hands clamped down on my hips and suddenly, I was off the bed and in the air. We ended up with Jag sitting against the headboard and me straddling his lap, still impaled on his thick length.
Jag mouthed at my neck, licking across his mark and gently sucking on it again. My core throbbed from the pleasure from his hot mouth on my skin, memories of how gently he brushed his lips across my broken body. How he took the pieces and made me whole again.
“Now, I want you to ride me, doll.” Jag’s eyes darkened and his fingers tightened around my waist. “Fuck yourself on my cock, Miri. Give me everything you have.”
I shivered at the way he said it, all commanding and husky and needy, with the slight Texas drawl that drove me crazy and sent molten lava pulsing through my veins. Jag’s hooded eyes were wild, his expression animalistic. One side of his mouth curled up in a domineering sneer.
He needs this and I would give him anything. Anything.
I nodded and slowly began raising and lowering myself, using my thigh muscles to slide up and down his steely length. I tried my best, bouncing faster and faster, but ran out of steam fast. A side effect of poor nutrition, lack of exercise, and continuous abuse at the hands of my captors.
Jag didn’t seem to mind. He growled and dug his fingers into my ass. Using his impressive strength, Jag easily lifted me up a
nd slammed me down on his cock, biceps bulging and flexing as he brought me down hard only to pull me up again. Over and over, raising and dropping me on his rigid cock, establishing a punishing pace. Jag planted his feet flat on the mattress to thrust his own hips up from the bed every time he yanked me down, causing our skin to slap together with an obscene smack.
My eyes rolled back and my head hung limply as another orgasm unexpectedly tore from my body. I stiffened when it hit, threw my head back, and screamed, so overstimulated I couldn’t have held back even if I wanted to. Desperate fingers clawed at his slippery, sweat slicked pecs, my nails gouging hard enough to leave marks. Too far gone to acknowledge my hoarse shouts, Jag raised me up and forced me down one final time as he shoved his cock so far up inside me, I was surprised I didn’t feel it in my throat. The tendons in his neck tensed and he cursed as the pleasure overtook his body.
“Goddammit, doll. Yes! Holy shit, yes!” Jag roared as he came, his long, thick cock swelling before it burst, shooting jet after jet of thick, hot semen deep inside me. A few more smaller thrusts and Jag’s body went limp beneath me. I collapsed forward, resting my head on his chest, and we both promptly fell asleep.
Jag
I woke with Miri on top of me, my soft cock still lodged inside her warm body. A quick peek at the window and I saw it was still dark, which meant we hadn’t been out long. Careful not to wake my beautiful doll, I rolled Miri to her side and pulled out, feeling cold and immediately missing the incredible, tight heat of her pussy.
Stretching my stiff legs, I rose and padded to the bathroom. After a long piss and a quick wash-up, I braced my hands on the sink. My head ached as I thought about what I was going to tell Miri. She didn’t know El Cuchillo escaped the night I found her. I forbade anyone from letting her know he was still out there, afraid when she found out the man who tortured her was free that she would revert back to how she was when I found her—panicked, nervous to the point of vomiting every day, and scared of her own shadow. My doll was doing so well with her recovery, she did a little minor maintenance on one of the bikes the other day. Not much, but a good sign. I was worried the knowledge of Cuchillo’s escape would send her spiraling back into depression.
Jagger (Broken Doll Book 2) Page 10