Sicko(92)

Car doors close behind me.

The V8 rumbles beneath my seat.

I close my eyes and blindly reach for the radio. I want to talk to Poppy, but right now I need nothing but music to fill the empty parts of myself. Music is the only thing powerful enough to fill the voids in your soul. Music is the language of healing, as Seether “I’ll Survive” plays through the speakers.



We arrive back to the cabin just under an hour later. Walking through the wooden doors was like coming home for the first time. I kick off my shoes near the door and begin undressing out of, tossing my clothes before I’ve even hit the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

“Ahhh,” Royce says from somewhere behind me. “I get that Wicked has seen you in every which way, but we’re still going to need boundaries.”

I ignore him, heading straight for his bedroom and falling onto his bed. I know I should shower. I smell of death. But before I can fight with myself to get up, my eyes are already closed and darkness is taking hold.

My phone says 3:04 a.m. Three a.m. Swinging my legs over the bed while trying not to wake a sleeping Royce, I pad to the bathroom and turn on the shower. The whole wall is glass, which overlooks the ocean with a claw-foot tub sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a rainforest shower behind with no walls or curtains, the bathroom sink is floating, bolted to the wall. I have to text India and give her props on the décor of his house. Her small touches made it feel like a home.

Tossing my clothes into the corner, I step into the shower and sigh as the hot water pelts down over my skin. The water at my feet slowly turns brown as the day washes off of me. Squeezing soap and rubbing it into my skin, I rinse it off before working on my hair—thankful that Royce actually has decent shampoo and conditioner. Pretty boy.

Hands are on either side of my head, caging me against the wall just as I’m washing out the rest of the conditioner from my hair. His lips brush the skin where my neck meets my arm. “Pretty fucking mad at you right now, Duchess.”

“Ditto,” I murmur, flicking my hair over my shoulder nonchalantly.

His hand is on my lower stomach, pressing my ass into him, his cock against my back. He wraps my hair around his fist and yanks my head to the side. “Yeah?” he growls, biting at my neck. His lips come to my earlobe. “Show me.”

He spins me around and slams me up against the wall, his hand on my throat. I lick my lips, looking up at him from under my lashes. “Spit on me.”

The corner of his mouth kicks up in a smirk. “Was wondering when you’d demand that.” He leans down, licking me from my jaw, up past my cheek. “When I want to.” He lifts me from my ass and lowers me onto his dick. I moan, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as his other hand comes behind my neck and squeezes tightly. He pumps in and out, until the sound of us fucking fills the air. His mouth is on mine, our tongues intertwined. My back scrapes against the wall as his fingers bite into my skin. He drops my feet back to the ground, his hand still secure around my throat as he directs me down onto my knees. His tongue curls out, a smirk on his lips as he spits on my face as I reach for his cock. Interrupting my ideas, he pushes me all the way down to the ground and climbs on top of me, slipping back between my thighs.

He rides my body hard, my legs clenching around his waist. His fingers come up to my chin, clenching my cheeks tight as his cock hits every nerve inside of me. He spits on my face again and I fall apart, my orgasm ripping through my body in savage tremors.

He continues, slowing the pace. Working my body past the point where I thought I couldn’t go further. I feel myself building as his hand comes to my cheek and he slaps me gently across the cheek. “Don’t fucking come until I say. I gave you that one.”

He leans down and catches my lower lip between his teeth, bringing my leg up to flex straight against his chest while pressing my other wide. With both hands handled on me, he grips my body and slams me against his cock.

I scream out, the pleasure and pain threshold damn near overflowing. His mouth is on my leg, his teeth sinking into my flesh, drawing blood as he continues to move my body into his relentlessly. So strong. So good. His hands are at my hips, biting into them and flipping me over to my belly as water pelts down. He raises me to my knees and slaps me across the ass hard. “No more lies, Duchess…”

A painful scream rips out of me. “Okay!”

He slaps me again. “What?” I can hear the chuckle he’s hiding in his tone.

He pumps me a few times and I clench around his girth. He pulls out and yanks me backward until I’m sitting on him reverse, one hand at the front of my throat. I ride him hard, so close to catching the release my body needs. He squeezes again, turning me around and laying back on top of me, his hand back at my chin and his body riding against mine. My clit swells, everything inside of me threatens to explode.

“Slap me.” My nails dig into his back, scratching down over his tatted ribs.

He snickers so low it vibrates over my neck as he raises his head, his eyes coming to mine. His hand flies across my cheek just as he dives inside of me roughly, his other hand on the side of my face to hold him up.

“Harder,” I plead, my legs clenching around his waist.

“Fuck me, Jade.” He knows how I like it and how I need it. He knows.

I scream at him, so close and near that I’m seconds away from releasing. “Royce!” I scream. “Please.”