Rage (A Jaden Rayne Adventure Book 1)

by Lilith Darville

  My eyes fly open at a quiet choking sound. Rayne stands, leaning against the archway leading from the hall. I groan inside as she stares at me with my lounge pants resting low on my hips and a small towel across my belly. Concern turns to delight as she watches, mesmerized as my large hand strokes my cock. I keep my head on the back of the recliner, turning my gaze back to the screen. Despite the low volume, there’s no mistaking the moaning and sucking sounds issuing from the TV.

  “Watch with me.” The words are out before I can stop myself.

  I hold my breath as she stays frozen with indecision. A small worm of doubt starts to make its way through my sex-filled fog. Would this traumatize her? I don’t have any idea how experienced she is. Oh for God’s sake, Jaden. She was a sex slave. Yet the doubt curls relentlessly around my conscious. I watch her from my peripheral vision, waiting for a sign. Do I stop, or do I continue?

  She shifts and licks her lips. Shimmers of heat roll off her in huge waves. I pat the seat beside me, careful not to look at her. Hoping she won’t bolt.

  She edges toward the recliner, perches on the edge beside me, and fastens her eyes on the screen, disgusted and curious at the same time. Like she really wants to watch me jerk off, but she’d die before she let me know. She sits, all wrapped up in excitement but not close enough to touch.

  “Do what you want.” My voice is low and husky. Her head jerks to the left like it’s a puppet on a string.

  “What did you say?”

  I turn my head, and chestnut eyes dark with lust meet mine.

  “Do what you want to do.”

  She chews on her bottom lip and fidgets. It’s like no one’s ever asked her what she wants, nor has she thought about it. Maybe she hasn’t; that’s an intriguing thought. Little Dragon, I’ll make you scream.

  She curls her legs under her and turns in my direction … just a bit. Like she doesn’t want to appear too eager. She clasps and unclasps her hands. I keep my smile hidden. She’s itching to touch me. For all her declarations about hating sex, her body language throws off one hell of a mixed message.

  I gently caress the sides of my dick. I slide my thumb around the head, tracing the precum around the glans. She licks her lips again, eyes glued to my hand. I close my eyes, imagining those full lips moving up and down my cock. I grow even harder, and my balls clench hard, fighting to explode. Tightening my grasp, I stroke hard and fast. I’ve done the same motion a million times before, but there’s something very stimulating about her watching me bring myself off. After several long strokes, white cum arches onto the towel. I stifle my moan, careful not to do anything that might scare her. I sit still, letting the tremors fade away. She says nothing, but her breathing is stilted as if she’s struggling to keep it even.

  “You act like this is the first time you’ve watched someone masturbate.” My comment must catch her by surprise because she jumps.

  I look into eyes still dark with lust, unsure of my next move. I’ve never masturbated in front of someone before. If she were someone less damaged, less emotionally fragile, I’d reach for her. Instead, I keep still and wait for her reaction.

  Her body goes rigid, and she squints her eyes at me.

  “It is. And don’t take that holier-than-thou attitude with me. You have no idea of the life I’ve led.” She sounds pissed, but she leans forward, turning her attention back to the action playing out on the TV.

  It’s been a while since I’ve had to consider or even give a damn about what others think. I pause, knowing that’s not quite true. The day I lost Savannah was the day I buried all my emotions except two—controlled rage and revenge. They had always been enough until now.

  “You’re right, and I apologize. I only want you to know that you can trust me and that the Vipers in this world do not define who you are.”

  14

  Rayne

  Move around, find out what you missed out, why you waited …

  He wants forthcoming, but I don’t understand myself. I’m every kind of fucked up over this … and hornier than hell. How the hell did I get into this? I take time for a toke and relive what just happened.

  As I near the archway, I tiptoe, eager to catch Jaden unawares for just one second. Information is the only weapon I have, and my arsenal is empty at the moment. I stop dead. Jaden sits on the recliner loveseat with his lounge pants resting low on his hips. I watch, mesmerized, as his large hand strokes his huge cock. He’s massive. Fucking ginormous. His head rests on the recliner, eyes trained on the screen in front of him. Some woman screeches, “Oh yes, give it to me baby” followed by a lot of heavy moaning. His fingers play his cock with the skill of a flutist caressing his beloved instrument. I lean against the cold stone and hold my breath. I haven’t seen anything so hot, or—what? Embarrassing? Shameful? Enticing? So wicked. I push the negative thoughts right out of my head. I order my feet to turn around, but they refuse, seemingly preferring to remain glued to the spot … like my gaze.

  The problem is, I know very little about the mechanics of consensual sex, and I’m absolutely fascinated by it. I will never tell anyone that dirty little secret. In my head, I chant the poem our mother taught us.

  Sex is dirty. Sex is a wife’s duty.

  Good girls don’t like sex.

  Sex means a man climbing on top and pumping away for thirty seconds or so. In the land of the great uncouth, I occasionally met one who lasted a minute. A blowjob could last for up to two minutes. The awkward time when they fixed their clothes could last for another five minutes—most never undressed. So, the whole sordid thing was done in about ten minutes.

  Once when ES visited me at university, he screwed my roommate right there in the room where I slept. I keep my eyes as tightly closed as possible, hands over ears. Totally grossed out … but excited. Just like now.

  I hate feeling this way. All tingly down there where I’m not supposed to feel anything. My mother and ES told Summer and me that sex was not to be enjoyed; it was a duty done only when married. Mommy dearest added that she’d break a broom handle over my back if I let a boy touch me before marriage.

  And now this hunk of a man sits in front of me stroking his dick with one hand and patting the couch with the other. He doesn’t look at me … thank God. Otherwise, I’d die of mortification and bolt. I edge toward the recliner and perch beside him. I fasten my eyes on the screen, disgusted and curious at the same time. I really want to watch Jaden making love to his cock, but I’ll meet my maker before I let him know that.

  Some bleached blonde babe is going down on a big hairy guy while another smaller man with a very big cock fucks her up the ass. She makes a lot of sloppy wet sounds with the occasional groan thrown in for good measure. Fake and irritating. And hot as hell. I sit there dressed in nothing but a T-shirt and panties and hold myself stiff while I watch.

  The woman’s naked body fascinates me. I’ve never seen a woman’s sexy bits before. Naked, yes—I’ve seen enough bare breasts to satisfy all curiosity. Full on vulva spread, no. I sit awash with the questions and no one to answer. What I really want to do is watch Jaden.

  “Do what you want.” Jaden’s voice is low and husky. My head jerks to the left of its own free will.

  “What did you say?”

  Jaden cock hand stills but remains wrapped around his magnificence. He turns his head, and golden eyes dark with lust meet mine.

  “If you want to watch, watch. If you want to go, do that. Do what you want to do. Just don’t keep sitting there acting like I’m about to kill your pet dog.” Jaden’s penetrating eyes dare me to look away.

  I can’t remember anyone asking me what I want to do. Ever. I curl my legs under me and turn in his direction … just a bit, careful not to touch. I don’t want it to look like I’m eager. He mustn’t know I’m dying to touch him. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I suddenly so fascinated? His cock must feel like soft velvet over polished wood. Why does it look like the most beautiful thing? I can almost feel the musky heat on the insi
de of my mouth.

  His fingers gently caress the sides of his dong. That’s what the girls called it in the trade when we weren’t calling it a pussy beater. Both names are crude, but then so is calling it a cock. Jaden slides his thumb around the head of his penis, tracing the precum around the glans. It’s beautiful to watch, like art. I salivate as I imagine following the trail of precum with my tongue. I want him to want me, but it’s more than that, and it confuses me.

  After what seems a lifetime battle to catch my breath, Jaden takes a firm grasp of his member and strokes hard and fast. I hold my breath, trying to hear him breathe. He’s so damned quiet. Not what I’m used to. He seems so controlled. A mesmerizing display of passion and performance. Then every muscle in that glorious body goes rigid. Wonderful, thick, rich cum arches out of his dong. I want to taste him, all of him. My fingers itch to scoop up just a bit and put it on my tongue. Blood rushes from my head to my groin. I’ve obviously lost my mind. What the hell am I thinking?

  We sit in silence while Jaden recovers his equilibrium and tucks himself back into his loungers. Conflicting emotions must show on my face.

  “Well?”

  “Well, what? I told you it’s the first time I’ve watched.”

  His eyes take on a curious glint. “Watched?”

  Oh yeah, he’s a man of many words, but there’s something about him that turns the words into a command compelling me to obey … and in this case, spill my guts. It’s my turn to get pissy.

  “That’s what I said, ‘watched.’” I huff. “What part of jump-on, jump-off don’t you understand?”

  Now, those golden eyes roll over me for a few minutes, then he grabs the remote, buzzing through a part where the nauseating blonde is talking to one of the men. Their nod to a storyline, I guess. I sit, studying the screen. I’m dying to ask Jaden what he gets out of watching such bad acting, but given his moody nature, I keep my mouth shut.

  Once, in my life before Viper, I watched an erotic movie filmed in Bombay or someplace equally exotic. The women were stunning. The men, beautiful. There’d been fine acting, or as fine as I needed it, anyway. The sex scenes were sensual and highly sexual—oiled naked bodies, gauzy curtains rippling in the breeze, beautifully bronzed, firm asses all flash through my mind. No sexy bits or intercourse—but enough to fuel my imagination. Now, that movie had made me wet. It was much more art than detached humping.

  Every nerve ending in my body is aware of Jaden. Sitting right there. Really close. Too close. Breathe. Not too deep, not too shallow. You can do this, Rayne.

  I concentrate all my energy on the screen. Another sex scene starts. This time, the blonde is giving head to the hairy guy with the big gut. Ick! But it’s still fascinating in a kinky way I prefer to keep to myself.

  So we sit there, both staring at the box emitting muted moans. I search my mind for things to find wrong with it so I won’t have to admit I like it. Yup, I just let my mind coast right on over that little gem.

  His hand lands on my thigh. I almost jump right out of my skin. I swear to God I almost squeal in what … fright? Delight?

  He applies only the slightest pressure, and my treacherous thighs fall apart. I really am having trouble breathing. I so want to look like … Oh God, I have no idea what I want to look like. All I know is that his hand is gliding up my thigh toward my pussy. My already sopping wet pussy. My damned double-crossing pussy. It simply isn’t listening to my mind. Clearly.

  “Take them off.” His voice is low, barely a whisper, but it resonates like a growl right through me. I shudder. I slide off my panties. Just like that. Shit.

  He nudges me back. Again, he barely seems to move, yet I react as if he’s shoved me back. The thought of mind control flashes through my mind. I collapse back against the recliner, legs spread wide. His hand starts back up my thigh, getting closer, oh, much closer this time. All kinds of thoughts are tumbling through my head. For some strange reason, I know he won’t like the idea that I’m not focused on him, on this moment. His fingers insist on my attention as they touch my cunt. Oh shit.

  He slides his fingers through the slick wet, slides them over my clit and down around the mouth of my vagina. A spasm of desire shivers up my pussy. I want this. I know I shouldn’t let him see how much. I shouldn’t let him see my weakness. But I am weak.

  I’ll despise myself for this moment later. I give in to him, to the symphony of sensation he conducts. I lie there, head back, wanton, craving every wave of raw desire shooting through me. I probably moan as his fingers and hands work their magic over my flesh, sliding, gliding. A nip here, a suck there. Fingers thrust to the hilt. Then removed. Just a flash. A promise … maybe. Excitement climbs through me like a top, spinning faster and faster, or like a wire, tightening around a screw, stretching to—

  “Let go.” He breathes it in my ear. His fingers circle before applying just a little bit more pressure. I let out a long moan, tense, on the edge. Anxiety seeps in. I try hard not to pant—I concentrate every ounce of energy on it.

  He kneels over me, grabs my curls, and yanks my face to his. He isn’t rough, but he’s insistent. My eyes fly open. His gaze drills into mine. “Stop thinking.” Low, insistent, commanding. He lets my head drop back, and I collapse against the cushions. After a few seconds, he seems satisfied and resumes where he’s left off. I let myself look for just a few seconds. He is glorious. Greek God glorious. I always liked the Greeks better than—

  Jaden plunges three fingers deep into my cunt and nudges my G-spot. He rubs my clit with his other hand. I gasp and thrust onto those fingers as hard and deep as I can. And those fingers move with some kind of magic of their own, sending vibrations running in concentric circles radiating outward. I’m going to burst. But I can’t let go.

  I can’t let myself think about what I want. So I lie there, suspended, like a steam engine without a vent, waiting to explode. He twists my T-shirt as he shoves it up and sucks my nipple between his teeth … hard. Every nerve in me climbs toward a pinnacle I just can’t reach. So I do what the girls at the warehouse taught me to do and make appropriate moaning noises.

  I almost sob as he withdraws his fingers. I want more. He sits beside me while I recover. I get my breath back and try not to let the confusing chorus of my thoughts ruin the sensations coursing through my body.

  Several minutes later, Jaden gets all businesslike. He pulls me up and points me toward the bedroom. “Get some sleep,” he says. “We’ll be leaving first thing.”

  I crawl into the big fluffy bed and fuss over what just happened. I’ve actually had sex, sort of, because I wanted to. I liked it. Especially at the end. When he sucked my nipple. Does that make me depraved? I revel in the glorious side of these thoughts for about three minutes five seconds before guilt and remorse set in. I’ve finally acted like the slut everyone says I am. Even worse, I let him see I’m vulnerable. He’ll think I’m like all the rest of them. Easy. The ones who sell themselves for money. Maybe the ES has been right all along. Oh, God.

  What will happen? Will he toss me out now that he’s had me? I hope not. A little part of me smiles as shimmers run up my cunt every time I remember …

  15

  Jaden

  That was just another stupid game I had to play …

  What the fuck am I thinking? I watch Rayne’s retreating ass. The ass with the perfectly rounded globes I suddenly want to grab and hold. I’m a little stunned by how much her long face affected me. The whole episode shocks me. I masturbated in front of her. Without more than a second’s thought. Something in her draws me. Something in her compels me to see how she’ll react.

  After playing with her, common sense prevails. What the hell? The girl is damaged, maybe even broken. If I want to do damaged, I can look in the mirror. And she’s so young; yet in some ways, she looks through me with the wisdom of the ages.

  It’s time I put my head back on straight and hunker down. I let a moment of guilt wash over me—what have I been doing while Viper has Sasha? Tr
ying to forget. Has he hurt Sasha? Beneath her tough exterior, there’s a deeply vulnerable side that might easily be broken. I can’t let my mind go there. I should be focused on finding clues, but instead, I let my dick do the talking. A ping from the computer brings me to attention. Two a.m. I traverse through the gateways into our forum. There’s Joker, right on time.

  Blade d00dz: Yoah

  Joker d00dz: MitM start

  Blade d00dz: Done?

  Joker d00dz: 2moro

  Blade d00dz: Confirm

  Joker d00dz: Done

  Blade d00dz: Stop trip. Phase two

  Joker d00dz: Done

  There’s nothing else to do at the moment. I need shut-eye. I’ll be no good to anyone if I’m not on top of my game. Sasha—what was that bastard doing to Sasha? Rage wells in my chest, making each heartbeat like a punch. I massage my chest and will myself to think of something else, anything else. That’s what I was doing when Rayne drifted into my world. Rayne, who I have to protect … at least until I can find someplace safe for her. Another problem to figure out tomorrow. I think about doing a round on the speed bag, but I need sleep. I lie on the couch and let my mind drift.

  The MitM attack means I have access to all the computer traffic flowing between Viper’s computers and the Internet. Joker located most if not all of Viper’s computers and put a tracer on them. Now, we’ll know every move Viper makes on the Internet. I’ve instructed Joker to find and stop Viper’s travel plans in the hope that will buy me a little time. Then he’ll offload Viper’s assets once all downloads are complete.