Page 117 of Wallflower

My look says, “Why?”

Rip heaves in a deep breath. “Because he closed your mouth with millinery wire. Looks like thread, but it’s wire too. I need tools, baby.”

I slit my eyes and scowl at the maggot on the floor, jutting my chin in his direction.

Ripley’s answering smile is sexy and sinister as hell. “What the lady wants, the lady gets.” He drops to a knee, sliding the blade slowly in between Sam’s ribs, making it hurt.

He wails in agony, and Rip uses Sam’s shot out knee to right himself back on his feet.

“Should we continue?”

I whimper my agreement.

He pushes his pants down his thighs, stroking his erection as he erases the distance between us.

Does killing get him hot? Or is it me in these chains, completely at his mercy?

His scorching touch meets my skin, travelling down over the swell of my ass to hitch my leg up over his hip. He presses inside me slow, groaning deep as his arm bands around my back, pulling me onto him as he rocks his hips forward.

“Want to know a secret?”

“Hmm?” I murmur.

“I dreamt of you.”

That shocks the hell out of me. I make another sound, hoping he will elaborate. Rip slams into me harder, the feeling making my head fall back in euphoria. “Dreamed about that mouth, what it would feel like wrapped around me,” he breathes, pulling out and sliding back in slowly.

“Fuck, I have to know if your mouth feels as good as your cunt. Won’t you let me? Please, Rose. I’ll get you out. Take you home. Wait on you hand and foot. Give you anything, everything. Just don’t torture me like this anymore.”

Fuck, I want to kiss him. Suck him dry. Wrap my arms around him and take him to the back of my throat. But none of that is possible right now, and it pisses me off.

“I need to know I’m the only one you surrender to,” he mutters against my swollen lips, eyes locking on mine. “The only one you cage that monster for.” I nod, a sex-drunk fool, willing to agree to anything. That monster is mine, I’ll wield her any way I need to. “Because you want my cock in your mouth, don’t you, flower?” He fucks me deeply and I whimper. “What was that?” he rasps through a blooming smirk. “Yes, my saviour, I’ll suck your cock, but I need to see you beg me for it first?” I nod again, needing to see him willingly kneeling for me before I will for him. “You drive a hard bargain, my Rose. All sharp thorns and pretty tears. But without a doubt, I’ll beg you for the pleasure you withhold from me.”

Then he drops to his fucking knees.

“Take notes, deadman, this is what Rose deserves,” he directs to Sam, who may have passed already. Ripley’s obsidian gaze sweeps back to my puzzled one. “Worship.”

He gently lifts my leg, placing it over his shoulder. Slowly, Rip kisses up the inside of my thigh, fingers slipping into my centre, pumping leisurely. His mouth reaches the apex. Ripley looks up at me, the heat in his eyes almost enough to make me cum on the spot. Leaning in, his hot breath moves across my skin in a dance of anticipation. His fingers curl inside me, and I’m on the ledge already. “Not yet,” he whispers.

My back arches at the first swipe of his tongue across my clit. He holds me steady, licking hard and slow as his fingers have me writhing, quickly losing the battle of holding on. I want to drag this out, enjoy it for so long it pushes out everything that’s happened, erases everyone’s touch from my skin but Ripley’s.

Suddenly, his pace changes. His thrusting fingers plow in and out of me as his mouth latches to my clit, sucking until myeyes fucking cross. The world hazes, nothing matters except the feel of him owning my body like no one before.

Light explodes behind my eyes, fireworks lighting up my skin as I descend into a new realm of pleasure.

His fingers slip from within me, and he seats me on his cock once more. “Look at me,” he breathes. “Watch me fill you.”

Everything in me tightens at his words, eyes fluttering open. His swollen lips gleam with my arousal as he gazes upon me like I’m all that matters.

He reaches up, carefully undoing the buckle from one wrist. I should be worried, but I know he won’t let me fall. My arm drops like a deadweight, but he catches it, placing it on his shoulder. Repeating the process with the other one. “Touch me,” he rasps, placing eager kisses along my neck.

I fight to move my cold, stiff fingers, managing to thread them into the hair at the base of his neck and grip tight. He walks us to the far wall, the one lined with a mirror, and presses my back against it. Moving within me, thrusts slow and hard, he murmurs something I can’t make out. His hand leaves me, snaking behind his back. When he brings it back around, he’s holding a gun.

He dangles it between us. “Have you ever shot a gun before?” I shake my head and he smiles. “Another first that will belong to me.”

Why is he so fucking adorable?

“Take it, I’ll help.”