Page 19 of Wallflower

His teeth tug on my lip as his fingers find the small zipper of my dress, pulling it down with ease. Before I’m completely bare before him, I work his t-shirt off. He’s all sharply defined muscles and tanned skin, chiseled to such perfection it would make a Greek God cry. My inferiority crashes through the door like theKool-Aidman, making me hold onto the shield my dress provides a little tighter.

As if he can read the emotions within a fraction of a second of their appearance, he says, “It’s coming off, Rosie. Even if I have to rip it at the seams.”

“But—”

“Drop it.” He glowers down at me, blue eyes a churning ocean storm.

Slowly, I shift my shoulders, the straps sliding down the skin of my arms. I let it fall off the tips of my fingers, watching as it billows out around me in a pool of darkness.

His hand splays against my chest as he gently pushes me back, walking me toward the bed. The back of my knees hit the mattress, and he shoves me. I fall back onto the dark blue sheets, noticing the blankets are nowhere in sight. Propping myself up on my elbows, I watch Sam pop the button on his dark grey shorts. He unzips slowly, groaning as my tongue drags absentmindedly across my lower lip, still tender from his teeth.

“Roll over.” The demand in his voice leaves little room for denial, but as his shorts hit the floor, every glorious inch of his skin on display just for me, I’m sure I’ve forgotten my own name.

He clears his throat, pulling my attention back to his face.

“Why?” I inquire.

Sam grabs my ankles, abruptly flipping me onto my stomach. “Because I said so,” he snarls, climbing atop me, hard cock brushing against my skin as he straddles the back of my thighs. One of his hands fists my hair, pinning me down, and his body weight presses me into the mattress. A drawer slides open, metallic clanking ringing through the heady silence, and I coil with anticipation.

Leaning all his weight onto me, he grabs my hand. I couldn’t fight him even if I wanted to, and let's face it, I don’t want to. I want to know what this kinky freak is into. It seems to be the same things as me. He clasps a handcuff around my one wrist, and before he asks for my other one, I present it willingly. “So eager to please, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” I damn near whine.

He pushes my body up the bed, revealing another set of handcuffs already tethered to the wrought-iron headboard. He threads the chain of them around the connecting links of my handcuffs before clicking the final cuff around the same bar as the first. I’m not going anywhere until he’s done with me, and my thighs crush together, trying to get some sensation to the achy thumping between them.

Repositioning himself atop the back of my thighs again, Sam brushes his fingers over my tattoo, tracing the tattered wings. “What made you get a dragon?”

Really? He wants to talk about this now?“They’re cool as fuck.”

He laughs, rocking his hips back before pushing his cock between my legs. “You’re deeper than that, Rosie.”

“They symbolize balance,” I slur, quickly losing myself to the pace he sets. My back arches, body winding beneath his weight, silently begging.

He grips my hips, tilting them as he sinks into me slowly, bottoming out. “Fuck,” he moans as I smother my whimper into the sheet. Leisurely, he pulls out then slams back in.

“More,” I pant, the pitch of my voice snapping as he cracks his palm off my heated flesh. He grips my ass like he’s trying to sink his fingers under my skin, imprinting himself down to the fibre of my being.

“You don’t get to make demands, pretty girl.” Sam’s hard body comes down over me, bracing his strong form with his forearm, as his other hand fists my hair. Yanking hard, he cranes my neck, eyes locking with mine. His thrusts are slow and shallow, the sound obscene. “Beg,” he growls.

The submissive soul within me bows to his command, the bold and daring persona I was trying to present withering away. “Please, Sam. I want more.”

A metallic click sounds through the quiet room, drawing both our attention. Sam pulls out. Getting to his feet, he moves to where I can’t see. “What’s happening?”

He doesn’t answer, but suddenly he’s back beside me. Rolling me onto my side, and pushing back into me as if nothing happened at all. His skin slaps against mine as his hand gathers all my hair into his fist, pulling my head back. His free palm lands over my mouth as he drives into me, smothering my cries from his savagery. “You’re close, aren't you, pretty girl?”

I nod, whimpering a pathetic response. His hand leaves my mouth, moving down my abdomen to circle my clit. I part my lips to heave in a breath, but I can’t. They’re sealed shut. I can feel the sticky residue pull at my skin as I fight to pull my jaws apart.

Panic seizes me, and Sam groans, pressing harder on that bundle of nerves between my legs. “Playtime’s over, Rosie. You better cum quickly, or you won’t be cumming at all.”

My words are bound behind my teeth as my brain battles with the heady concoction of fear and pleasure. I surrender as my head swims, shattering beneath his expert touch, unable to prevent it. “Good fucking girl,” he breathes, plowing into me as I whimper with every thrust. “Fuck, I wish I could keep you.”

His fingers abandon my clit, coming up to encircle my jaw. His lips land against the tape covering mine as his hips lose their aggressive pace. His cock twitches and jerks deep within me as I watch him succumb to pleasure.

A bang sounds across the room, but Sam’s fingers digging into my cheeks keep me from seeing whatever it is.

“It’s go time,” a voice rumbles from the other side of the room, followed by a woman’s muffled scream that isn’t mine.

“Itold you not to fucking rush me.” I know we’re pressed for time, especially since it took longer than anticipated to get Rosie’s guard down. When she almost bailed on me earlier, I thought I was going to have to drag her kicking and screaming, but like most women, she ignores her fear the second I bat my lashes and flash that panty-soaking smile.