Chapter 340 - 340: Serve Me (1/2)

Gabrielle screams for help, but the falling water drowns her voice. She takes a deep breath to scream again, but Jackson's elegant, warm hand clamps down over her mouth. She licks his palm and shakes her head back and forth, but he doesn't loosen his grip for a second.

”Looks like you're becoming a good little whore,” Jackson says. ”Tell me, are you really so desperate for clients?”

She mumbles something against his palm, and he raises his eyebrows. He slides his free hand down her back and cups the bottom of her ass, digging his long fingers into the sensitive skin.

”I'm going to take my hand off your mouth, but you better not scream,” he says, dipping one finger between her legs.

She flinches and nods, and he takes his hand off her mouth. Shampoo drips down her face and burns her eyes, and she tries to wipe it away with the back of her hand. Jackson grabs her hand and places it on his chest, and she narrows her stinging eyes.

”I thought you brought me here to entertain clients,” she says. ”Don't act like becoming a whore was my idea—I'm just trying to pay off my debt as quickly as possible.”

”If you want to entertain guests so badly, then hurry up and serve me,” Jackson says.

He strokes her between her legs, and she shivers and tries to pull away, but he tugs her even closer. His erection strains against the front of his wet trousers and rubs against her hip. His eyes are flinty and cold, and she knows he'll be as punishing and rough as always.

”Shouldn't we discuss the money first?” she asks, pushing against his soaked shirt. ”The last two times you didn't give me a cent. But this is the Top Girls Club—no one works for free here.”

”Asking for money upfront?” Jackson asks, his mouth twitching with amus.e.m.e.nt. ”Remind me to give Abbie a raise—she's trained you quite well.”

”I'm just trying to survive here,” she says. ”Anyway, I'm sure you heard the men downstairs—you know my market value. Some guy just offered me fifty million for a single night. I won't settle for anything less. Now, if you're looking to buy me by the month, I could offer you a slight discount.”

She's proud of the way her voice stays flat and businesslike. Her insides are churning, and she feels like she might be sick all over the black and white tile floor. I can't believe it's actually come to this, she thinks. I'm truly a p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.e now. But Jackson is going to take me no matter what, so I might as well get something out of it.

She closes her eyes and tries to do the math. If it's fifty million for a night, and there are thirty-one days in a month, she could make over a billion dollars in one month alone. With the discount, she can charge one billion for the month and pay off her debt.

That sounds too good to be true, she thinks, feeling another wave of nausea twist her stomach. There's no way he'll let me out of here in a month. And even if he agrees, the month will be absolute hell. He'll do every perverted, degrading thing he can think of.

”Since you're my only regular, I'll give you a special deal,” she says, hating the way her voice shakes. ”One billion for a month.”

Jackson laughs low in his throat and says, ”Nice try, but no deal. What if you became my mistress for the year?”

A year? How much would that be? Gabrielle tries to count it out on her fingers, but that's impossible. There's no way Jackson can afford to give her fifty million dollars a night for a year. Even if he gives her one billion a month, the price is still impossible.

”Can you afford a year with me?” she asks, trying to toss her hair the way the other girls do when they don't believe a guest's offer.

The wet hair sticks to her back, and she slams her forehead into Jackson's chin. He groans and digs his fingers into her ribs. There's a stabbing pain in her forehead, but she's about to hit him again when his long finger slips inside her. She bucks her h.i.p.s and a m.o.a.n escapes her lips.

”Rest assured, I'll find a way to pay you,” he says against her skin. ”From now on, I'll focus on two things: making more love to you and making more money to pay you.”

He slides his finger out of her and brings it up to his lips. His long tongue darts out of his mouth, and he licks his finger from top to bottom. She shudders and tries to pull away, but backs her into the glass wall.

”I'm going to enjoy this,” he says, unzipping his pants.

He thrusts into her in one hard, unforgiving stroke. She screams with the pain, but the roar of the shower covers the sound. He pulls out and slams into her again and then again. The sharp pain eases into a dull ache, and she grows too tired to scream. After half an hour, it's all she can do to stay conscious.

When he finally finishes, he lets go of her, and she collapses into a puddle on the tile floor. He ignores her, stripping out of his clothes and scrubbing his body with a bar of soap. Het gets out of the shower, turns the water off, and wraps himself in a white terrycloth robe, leaving her shivering on the bathroom floor.