Short Chapter
LISA'S POV
Mr Jackson was dragging me back to the mansion. He had a tight grip on my wrist and was walking very fast.
I had no idea why he was acting like this. And, what was up with that fight.
He just had a fist fight with Enzo. A bloody fist fight. They were literally punching and hitting each other. This was unbelievable.
My mind was still trying to process the fact that they had fought. How did this even happen?
I could still hear their voices.
The way they were yelling and cursing at each other.
Enzo yelling about how Mr Jackson was treating me badly and Mr Jackson saying that Enzo should respect him.
It was such a childish and immature argument. The whole thing was childish.
And the way Mr Jackson had talked to me earlier.
"Didn't you have a long day fucking me in the dinning hall a few hours ago. You had a long day on your back. Right, Lisa. That was the longest and most exhausting thing you did. Isn't that right, Lisa?"
His words still played in my head.
How could he talk to me like that and say those words? Didn't he say earlier that he cared about me? That he didn't want to see me get hurt.
Then why would he talk about me like I was some p-rostitute.
Why would he humiliate me and hurt my feelings like that? What happened to him?
I could feel the tears forming in my eyes. My legs were shaking and I was trying not to cry.
Mr Jackson was a jerk. A complete jerk.
"Why are you crying, Lisa? Why are you crying? Am I really that terrible?"Mr Jackson's voice broke my thoughts.
I didn't realise we were in the hallway until now.
"M-Mr Jackson. Please slow down." I pleaded.
My feet were hurting and my legs were shaking. I was trying to keep up with his pace but he was walking too fast.
It was as if he wasn't even thinking or listening to me. He just kept walking.
"Where are we going, Mr Jackson?" I asked again.
"Mr Jackson. Can you slow down. My legs can't keep up." I cried.
But, he didn't listen. Instead, he tightened his grip.
"Mr Jackson. You're hurting me. Please let go. I'm begging you." I screamed.
Mr Jackson didn't let go of my wrist. He kept a tight hold.
"Mr Jackson, please. Stop."
"Stop what, Lisa? Stop telling the truth? Is that it?" He yelled.
"The truth? What are you talking about, Mr Jackson? Let go. My wrist hurts." I replied.
"I will when we get to the room." He said.
Room? What room? Did he mean the private room.
My eyes widened.
Why were we going to the private room? What did he want to do there? Why was he being like this. What was wrong with him?
All the thoughts filled my mind as Mr Jackson dragged me into the elevator.
He didn't let go of my arm. Instead, he held it tightly and glared at me.
"Why?" He asked as soon as we got into the elevator.
"Why are you looking at me like that, Lisa? Why are you crying?" His voice was cold and harsh. It scared me.
He was yelling at me. Like I did something wrong.
"Mr Jackson, please. You're hurting me." I replied, as I tried to loosen his grip.
"No, answer my question first. Why are you looking at me like that? Like I'm a mad man. Like I'm some monster." He asked.
"I'm not." I replied.
"Yes, you are. Look at the way you're staring at me. Like I'm a monster. Like I'm crazy. And you're crying. Why are you crying?" He asked.
"Because. You're scaring me. Please. You're hurting me. Please let go."
I said, as tears fell from my eyes.
"Scaring you? Why would I scare you, Lisa? Don't you see, all I want to do is to pleasure you. To make you feel good." He said.
"By humiliating me." I yelled. "By saying those things to me. It's enough that the maids and workers bully me but now you too. Is that what you want to do? Because if so, then go ahead and hurt me. Humiliate me. I'm nothing but your maid. Right?" I shouted.
I pulled my hand away from him and looked the other way.
I used the back of my hand to wipe the tears away from my eyes.
My whole body was trembling. I felt so embarrassed. So embarrassed.
I was angry and hurt. After I gave myself to him in the dinning. After all the things he said. This was how he was going to treat me.
"Lisa. I didn't mean it. Please don't cry. You know I didn't mean it." He whispered.
"Yes, you did. You did mean it, Mr Jackson. You made yourself very clear." I replied.
"No. It's not like that. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. You are the last person on this planet I want to see cry." He said.
He pressed the stop button and the elevator stopped moving.
"I'm sorry, Lisa." He said, as he wrapped his arms around me.
I pushed him away.
"Don't. Don't touch me. You made your point very clear, Mr Jackson. I'm nothing more than a girl you just want to fck. And we have, right? So I guess the deal is over. So please, just stop." I said.
I wiped the tears off my face and tried to press the button again.
But, Mr Jackson grabbed my hand.
"No. We're not ending anything. Not here, not now." He whispered, as he placed his forehead against mine.
"Mr Jackson, let me go. Please. I don't want to be near you." I cried.
"Shhh…Stop crying, Lisa. Everything is fine. Stop crying."
He whispered as he placed his thumb under my chin. His tall and muscular frame loomed over mine.
"I'm sorry, Lisa." He whispered again.
"It was never my intention to hurt you, Lisa. The only time I want you to shed those beautiful tears of yours is when I'm pleasuring you. When I make love to you. When my hard d-ick is deep inside you and making you c-um. The only tears I want to see are the ones you cry from the intense o- rgasm I give you. Not these tears. These aren't the tears I want. I want to see the tears you shed from your o-rgasms. Your pleasure." He said.
"Do you understand me, Lisa? Do you understand that I want to make you cry from your climaxes and not from hurting you." He told me.
Mr Jackson didn't give me the time or space to answer him.
Instead, he pulled me closer and kissed me.
His mouth moved slowly and sensually against mine. My lips parted and his tongue entered my mouth.
He was kissing me. Kissing me in the elevator.
My mind was racing and I didn't know what to do.
Was this some sick joke? Was this all a lie?
Should I stop? Should I push him away?
His lips were so warm and soft and tasted so sweet.
But, this was wrong. It was all so wrong.
So, why did it feel so good.
I wanted to resist. I wanted to push him away and tell him not to touch me. But, instead, my hands grabbed onto his shirt.
I didn't want him to stop.