Chapter 79 - 0079: Stop Lying To Yourself, Princess

Chapter 79: Chapter 0079: Stop Lying To Yourself, Princess

Elena’s Point Of View

I swallowed hard, my legs moving entirely on their own, as if hypnotized by the low, velvet rasp of his voice. I dragged my trembling body across the plush carpet, each step feeling heavier than the last, until I reached the grand mahogany door. My breath came in shallow, ragged hitches, my hand shaking violently as my fingers reached up to slide the heavy brass lock into place.

Some distant, rational part of me screamed that I still had a choice, that I could hang up the phone and pretend none of this had happened. That voice sounded so small now, drowned beneath the roar of my own pulse. But that part of me had already lost.

The sharp, brutal clack of the bolt echoed through the silent room like a gavel slamming down on my fate, final and irreversible. I stared at the door for a long moment, half expecting Graham’s shadow to fall across the gap beneath it, but nothing moved. Only my own reflection stared back at me from the dark window glass, a stranger wrapped in another man’s coat.

"I locked it," I whispered into the receiver, my voice small, betraying the sheer, pathetic speed with which I had surrendered to him.

"There," I breathed out, the single word sounding almost accusatory, like a fragile shield I was clinging to... proof that I hadn’t just obeyed his every word without a second thought. "Done."

"Good girl."

Two words. Simple. But the way he said them... rough, heavy, completely possessive, like he had just tasted me all over again, sent a wave of molten, liquid heat racing straight down my spine. It pooled thick and heavy in the pit of my stomach, making my thighs press together as my knees nearly buckled beneath me.

I hated how easily he could do this to me, how two syllables from his mouth could unravel years of careful discipline, years of telling myself I was a woman who didn’t break this easily.

My chest rose and fell in short, desperate bursts. "Jaxx..." I whispered into the dark room, my voice cracking, entirely unsure if I was pleading for him to stop or begging him not to.

"Happy?"

"Extremely," Jaxx purred. Through the speaker, the distinct, crisp click of a lighter flicking open broke the quiet, followed immediately by the low, slow exhale of smoke against his microphone. I could picture him too clearly... leaning back against leather, utterly unbothered, utterly in control, while I stood shattered in the dark. "Now tell me, Bambina... what are you wearing right now?"

"Jaxx..."

"Answer me," he commanded, his tone dropping an octave, turning impossibly heavy, rigid, and unyielding. "Tell me what you have on."

"The coat you bought me," I breathed out, my eyelashes fluttering shut as I pulled the heavy, dark wool tighter around my bare, shivering shoulders. The fabric still held the rich scent of his tobacco, leather, and woodsmoke, and breathing it in felt like inhaling him directly into my lungs. "I haven’t taken off the coat yet."

"Good," he growled softly, the smoke in his voice almost tangible against my ear. "And underneath it?"

"My... my blouse. The one you buttoned up."

"And your panties?" he asked, completely unbothered by the raw, dangerous audacity of the question. "Are they wet for me right now, Elena? Are they soaked just thinking about my fingers sliding inside you?"

A choked, pathetic sound escaped the back of my throat. "You’re wicked."

"I’m honest," he corrected sharply, his breath hot against his phone. "And right now, I’m sitting in my car down the street, rock hard, thinking about how you gasped when I bit your lip. Thinking about how soft, how dripping wet your skin felt when I put you back in that seat. Touch yourself for me."

"What?" My eyes snapped open, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped, panicked bird. "No! I am not doing that!"

"Touch yourself, Bambina," Jaxx repeated. It wasn’t a request. His voice stayed low, velvety, and entirely driven by absolute command. "Put your hand inside your panties and feel how wet you are for a man who isn’t your husband. Do it, or I swear to God I’ll walk right past your guards, tear down that mahogany door, and show you what happens when you disobey me."

My breath hitched violently. I stood frozen in the center of the dark guest room, the phone pressed so tightly against my ear that my knuckles turned white, my entire body trembling with a terrifying, intoxicating mixture of raw fear and total surrender.

Somewhere beneath the panic, a shameful thrill uncoiled, whispering that some hidden part of me had wanted exactly this all along, had wanted it since the moment his eyes first found mine across a room I could no longer remember.

Slowly, traitorously, my free hand slid down the front of the coat. My fingers brushed the smooth fabric of my skirt, creeping lower and lower until they reached the thin, lace edge of my underwear.

"That’s it," Jaxx murmured into my ear, his voice a dark, purring vibration, as if he could see every single shameless move I was making in the dark. "Lock your door, Bambina. I don’t want your husband barging in while I’m making you cum."

My chest heaved in short, sharp bursts. "Jaxx..." I whispered, my lips trembling against the glass screen, completely lost in the fog of his control.

"Now go to the bed," he commanded, his voice smooth as dark liquor, thick with a commanding dominance that made refusal feel physically impossible. "Take off your panties, Bambina. And spread those legs wide open for me."

My pulse slammed against my ears so hard it produced a dull, throbbing pain. My phone wobbled in my damp, slick fingers. Heat flared hot, thick, and utterly shameful throughout my entire body, even as the last desperate shreds of my mind scrambled to maintain control, grasping for some fragment of the woman I had been only hours earlier.

"This is insane," I whispered harshly, the words scraping against my raw throat. "You’re insane... I’m insane. This is out of control..."

The phone trembled in my sweaty palm, Jaxx’s low, husky voice curling directly into my ear like thick smoke I couldn’t escape from, even if I begged for air.

"Remove your panties, Bambina. I want to hear the lace drag across your skin."

For a split second, the small, logical voice left inside my brain screamed no. My chest heaved, my throat bone dry as a wave of hot shame clawed its way up my spine. But my body... traitorous, reckless, completely starved of real touch, obeyed before my mind could assemble an argument.

My fingers hooked firmly into the thin lace waistband, dragging the fabric down my thighs in a frantic, desperate rush. I kicked them away, letting them fall onto the carpet. The cool, quiet air of the guest room hit my bare, heated skin like icy fingers, making me shiver violently as my thighs clenched together instinctively.

God. What was I doing? Graham lay just down the hall, a dozen paces away in the master bedroom, entirely oblivious to the woman his wife was becoming in the dark. I thought of his steady breathing, his familiar shape beneath the covers, and the thought should have stopped me cold. Instead, it only sharpened the wicked pleasure coursing beneath my skin.

I swallowed hard, my voice coming out small, broken, and dangerously soft. "They’re... they’re off."

A dark, cruel chuckle slithered through the phone’s speaker, low and rasping. "Good girl."

The sound made every fine hair on my skin stand directly on end. My breath hitched in my chest, and I squeezed my legs together harder, as if physical pressure could block out the sharp, throbbing ache pooling between them.

"Now..." he paused deliberately, letting the silence on the line stretch until the heavy atmosphere felt suffocating. "...touch yourself, Bambina. Pretend it’s my hand on you."

I gasped, a rush of pure heat flooding my face and burning behind my eyes. "Jaxx... are you out of your mind? My husband is in this house..."

"He isn’t in that room," Jaxx cut in sharply, his tone slicing straight through my excuse. "And even if he stood right outside that locked door, what the fuck has he ever done for you, Elena? Hmm? You think that weak bastard can make you moan the way I do? You think he can make you lose your fucking mind the way I can? Stop lying to yourself, princess."

His voice dipped lower, turning into a deep, gravelly growl that left zero room for argument.

"Spread your legs. Wide. Right now."

My heart hammered so violently against my ribs that I was genuinely terrified the vibration would carry through the floorboards. My pulse screamed in my ears, completely drowning out reason, logic, and self-preservation.

And still... my knees parted. Slowly, trembling uncontrollably, my legs fell open until I sat exposed, completely vulnerable, and utterly obscene in the dark.

I let out a soft, broken whimper, hating my weakness, yet utterly consumed by the thrill of it. Some part of me wondered, distantly, when exactly I had stopped being a woman who said no and became a woman who begged instead.

"Say it," Jaxx whispered into my ear, his own breathing sounding heavy, thick, and dark. "Tell me what you’re doing right now."

My lips quivered, the words burning my throat. "I... I’ve spread my legs."

"Good girl. Now drag your fingers down. Touch that pretty, wet pussy for me."

A ruined, whimpering sound ripped from my throat. My free hand slid down my stomach, lingering for a fraction of a second before my shaking fingers parted my slick flesh. The moment my own index finger touched my clit, a violent shockwave of pure electricity shot straight up my spine.

I gasped aloud, throwing my head back against the carved wooden headboard as my back arched off the mattress.

"Ahh... Jaxx..."

His name slipped past my lips before I could lock my teeth together to stop it.

"That’s it," he groaned, his voice turning thick, rough, and ragged. "Fuck, Bambina... keep touching it. Slide your fingers through it. Imagine it’s my thick hand on you. My tongue licking you clean. My cock stretching you open."

I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the filth of his words drown me, intoxicate me, strip away every last layer of my identity as Graham’s wife. My fingers began to move in tight, deliberate circles around my clit, the pressure building in sharp, white-hot bursts.

My breathing fractured into uneven, desperate pants. In my mind, I wasn’t alone in the dark... I was pinned beneath him, his heavy body trapping mine, his dark eyes watching me unravel while his mouth dirty-talked me into ruin.

"Insert a finger," Jaxx ordered, his tone leaving no room to breathe.

My body obeyed the command instantly. One finger slid straight inside my tight, soaking walls. I choked on a gasp, my internal muscles instantly clenching down around the intrusion.

"Another one," he growled, the velvet in his voice completely gone, replaced by raw, primal authority.

I forced a second finger inside, a low whimper escaping me as my body stretched to accommodate the depth. "Fuck... Jaxx..."

"That’s my filthy little Bambina," he groaned, his breath catching sharply on the line, ragged and uneven, as if he fought a losing battle for his own restraint.

It was then, through the heavy rhythm of his breathing, that I realized with a sudden, electrifying shock... he was touching himself too. Down the road, parked in the shadows of the estate gates, his hands worked over his own cock, stroking himself hard while he forced me to break every vow I had ever made.

The image of him there, alone in the dark car, undone by the same madness gripping me, only deepened the shameful thrill twisting through my body.

The realization sent a wave of wild, shameless heat straight to my core. My hips began to lift off the bed, bucking weakly against my own hand, chasing the friction, chasing the memory of his touch. The quiet room filled with the slick, shameful sounds of my own fingers sliding in and out of my body.

"Moan for me," Jaxx demanded, his voice thick with dynamic pressure. "Let me hear how wet I made you."

"I... I can’t... what if Graham hears?" I gasped out, my eyes darting nervously toward the locked mahogany door, as if his ghost might bleed through the wood.

"Fuck Graham," Jaxx spat, the words sharp, cold, and absolute. "He lost the right to hear you a long time ago. You’re mine tonight, Bambina. Mine. Now moan for me. Louder."

Something deep inside my chest snapped cleanly in two. The last thread of restraint dissolved into nothingness. I threw my head back, baring my throat to the empty dark, and moaned his name completely without shame.

"Jaxx... ahhh, fuck... oh God, Jaxx..."

"Yes, just like that," his groan came guttural, strained, and dark. "Keep going. Faster. Don’t you dare stop until I tell you to cum."

The pressure building inside me escalated to an unbearable, blinding intensity. My own fingers weren’t enough... they could never be enough compared to the real thing - but the dark, dominant spell of his voice filled the empty space, driving me right over the edge of sanity.

"Say my name again," he growled, his breathing heavy and fast.

"Jaxx... fuck, Jaxx!" I cried out, my hips riding my hand in a wild, frantic rhythm.

"That’s it, Bambina. Come for me. Give it all to me."

The orgasm hit me like a violent physical force, white-hot and completely destructive. My entire body convulsed, my inner walls clamping down around my fingers in tight, agonizing pulses as pleasure exploded behind my eyes.

I screamed his name into the quiet room... "JAXX!" before my arm gave out and I collapsed sideways onto the disheveled sheets, trembling uncontrollably and soaked in sweat.

On the other end of the line, a deep, guttural groan ripped from his chest... raw, heavy, and intensely satisfied, as he released right along with me.

For several long moments, nothing existed except the sound of our heavy, ragged breathing echoing through the phone speaker, mingling together in the dark. I lay motionless, staring blankly at the ceiling, waiting for shame to arrive in full force, yet finding only a strange, hollow calm settling over me instead.

It frightened me more than the shame ever could have... this quiet, this peace I had no right to feel.

Then, his low, wicked chuckle broke the silence, heavy with absolute ownership. "You did so fucking well, Bambina."

I closed my eyes, a dizzying storm of intense shame and overwhelming relief crashing together inside my chest.

"Now sleep," he murmured, his tone shifting, dropping into something dark, smooth, and terrifyingly gentle. "Tomorrow... is going to be a long day."

A faint flicker of confusion cut through the heavy fog of my exhausted brain. "W-what do you mean?"

But the sheer weight of the crash already dragged me down, pulling my eyelids shut. My mind proved too weak to process the threat hidden in his words. My last conscious thought lingered on the dark, dangerous resonance of his voice still echoing in the room, a warning I was far too spent to heed.

’Tomorrow is going to be a long day.’

Then, the darkness consumed me entirely.