Twisted

Chapter 4

Jaeger

Present Day

Time had not been kind to his Maisie Jane Walkup. He could see it plain as day in her eyes. She was just a shell that was sheltering a small spark of who she used to be. She wore it secretly in her choice of panties, in her little pink socks, in the locket around her neck her grandmother had given her.

Yes, Jaeger had spent his time watching her, studying her. He knew her like he knew the back of his hand, knew her like he knew the ink that littered his skin. She'd been a bright, fiery thing that night at the party, but those fuckers had dulled her shine, done their damnedest to water down her spark, to trample her like a forgotten flower on the ground.

And now that he was here, between her thighs, feeling for himself how her body was betraying her mind, he knew his resolve was slipping, and fast. He took what he wanted, and what he wanted most of all was his Maisie girl.

"We can come back to that. Where's the hard drive?" He growled, reaching for the button of his jeans.

"I don't know what you're fuckin' talking about," she seethed again through clenched teeth. He sighed, shaking his head, slipping the brass button through the hole of his worn blue jeans. Her face was a mess, covered in tear tracks through her running mascara, her hair frizzy and rumpled, but she was still utter perfection to him, scar and all.

The low, slow bite of his zipper had her big blue eyes widening, her pupils dilating. Aroused as she was, she was still afraid of him, he knew this, but after all the horrible, evil things Jaeger had seen and done, he couldn't quite bring himself to care. She was his. End of story. What he did to her she would enjoy, would eventually come to crave more potently than a bump of coke.

He shook his head, driving his hand into his jeans and curling his fingers around his throbbing cock. God, he'd waited for this for years. Her eyes darted down, her panic mounting. She wriggled and writhed and sobbed, but he turned off his mind—his heart had died long ago. He could feel it, struggling for a breath when he was around his woman. She would be the only thing to keep him human now.

He brought his thumb to her entrance, gathering her wetness as a wave of ecstasy rolled through him. His eyes slipped closed, and he couldn't help himself. Bringing his thumb to his lips, he pushed it between his teeth and rested it on his tongue, memorizing her flavor, and though it was his first taste, she was already above and beyond the rest—sweet like honey.

"Fuck me," he groaned, unable to stop the words from escaping. She shook beneath him, trying in vain to press her thighs together. When his eyes slowly blinked open and caught hers, he could see her desire, there in the depths.

"Last chance, Maisie Jane. You tell me what I need to know, I reward ya."

Slitting her eyes into a vehement glare, she pursed her ruby lips.

"Go to hell, motherfucker."

She was answered by his chuckle and another shake of his head.

"Your choice," he swore, smirking at her. Her eyes flew to saucers, her lips popping open as the same thumb, still slick, pressed against her throbbing clit. She mewled, arching her neck as he circled the little nub slowly. He watched her with an intensity reserved for a heart surgeon, his skill unmatched, his body singing to hers in a way that was otherworldly. They were made for each other, Jaeger knew. She would complete him, and he would give her the attention and protection she'd always needed and craved.

Slow, he built her up, circling faster as her breathy moans hit the ceiling and echoed through her still room. Biting his bottom lip, he kept himself in check; he wouldn't give in to her, not yet, because he knew how powerful a motivator a climax could be.