Sicko Read online Free Books by Amo Jones

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
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Darkness welcomed me during a time that I needed to feel safe, now I bathe in it to keep me sane. Light doesn’t give a fuck about the damned, so with the damned, I stayed. I remember the colored dots that danced around the room as pain rippled between my thighs. He tore my walls apart with a single thrust, so I rebuilt them with the pain and blood that he took from me. He never spoke. I felt his damp cock press in and out of me, like a knife twisting and turning in an open wound. Tears poured out of my eyes, but he didn’t stop. Finally, he slowed enough for me to feel him pulse inside of me. He pushed himself up, extracting himself, and bent down between my thighs, kissing the blood from my now exposed and violated area.

“I’m going to teach you so many things, Jade. You’ll learn to love it eventually. Crave it. You’ll learn to submit to me whenever I come calling. Clean yourself up.”

I flinched, but I knew better than to pull away from his touch. The second time he raped me, I tried to pull away from him. He made me pay for it, but not in a way that you’d expect him to. James had an art to which he abused his victims, and I was his everlasting paintbrush. He’d use me to paint his new victims and then hand me to the next to borrow. He’d say I was special, that my strokes were unlike any he had seen before. I wanted to burn the whole art studio down along with everyone else inside of it.

“Spend the night with me and I’ll drop you off here early in the morning. I have a hotel—soundproof walls.” He grins and then pulls us out of the parking lot. I focus out the window and watch as young people laugh with their friends. They have no idea how lucky they are. Oblivious to the kind of evil that I exist among, which is why I could never have a crush on any boys. Regardless of how hot they are or how they make me feel.

The hotel is nice, but of course it is. Penthouse, rich red colors and glass windows that overlook Hollywood Boulevard.

James hands me a glass filled with amber-colored alcohol, loosening his tie. His blue eyes meet mine, so blue. So familiar. I shoot back the rest of the liquid, ignoring the burn that settles in the back of my throat.

“Thank you,” I whisper once my voice is stable.

“On your knees.”

I obey, sinking to the floor.

“Remove your clothes.” He tosses his tie across the room, removing his belt. He slaps the belt across the palms of his hands a few times and then his eyes come to mine as he places it onto the bed. “Your brother is back.”

“He is,” I say softly, peering up at James from beneath my lashes. His hand comes to my cheek as his thumb grazes over my lips.

“So beautiful, Bunny…” My stomach churns. He comes down to my level and slowly lifts me off the ground, placing me onto the bed, stepping back to take in my nakedness. His hand dips beneath his slacks as he pulls himself out and pumps, his eyes on my body. “All of it belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

I swallow, nodding my head. “Yes.”

“Spread your legs.”

I do, widening them until he’s standing between with one hand running over my nipple. Every time his palm skims over my breasts softly, I bite down on the inside of my cheeks until my mouth pools with metallic blood. I need the pain to distract from the way his gentle touches violate my soul.

He falls down on me until I’m flat on my back. His cock is at my entrance, his tender kisses falling all over my neck as he slides inside of me. Sexual abuse comes in all colors of the rainbow, it’s not just black and white. He continues his assault. The same dance that I’ve learned and move to effortlessly now. He flips me over, taking me from behind, to the side, me on top, him back on top, the positions change, but one thing always remains. The temperament of his lovemaking remains mellow, sensual. It’s the kind of sex you’d have with someone you love wholeheartedly, with your husband or your wife. It was after the fourth time that I realized why he did it like this.

Because he didn’t just want my body.

He was fighting for my soul, too.

He would never have it. I’ve hidden it away in a place where no man would ever venture in to retrieve it. The only problem with that is, now no one would find it.

The next morning, I’m standing under a hot shower as the water trickles over my aching body. He may take it slow, but he makes sure to do it for hours. And hours. And hours on end. I shiver climbing out, and as soon as I’m back in my room, I slam my door closed and squeeze my towel.


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