Page 57 of Wallflower

“Fuck off,” she huffs in response, head falling back against the mattress, eyes shut.

Any control I was wielding shatters. I grab her by the biceps, hauling her up off the floor. Faster than either of us can register, I've got her laid across my lap on the bed.

“What the fuck?” she breathes, tensing in my hold, scared of what’s to come.Thatpleases me.

I palm her ass as my other hand holds her in place at the back of her neck. “Last time, flower,” I rumble, fingers grazing down over the swell of her ass to toy with the hem of the dress. “What did you take?”

Anticipation thrums through me as her silence lingers. Pushing the dress up, I expose her. There’s no panties obstructing my view, and I wonder if it was her choice, hoping it would soften me up.

Rose mumbles into the blankets, body loosening as my light touch traces the curve of her skin, trailing gently down the back of her thigh then back up.

The hand at the back of her neck moves into her dark waves, fisting tight, pulling her face up and out of the sheets. My palm cracks off her ass and she yelps. She looks so fucking perfect arched and spread out across my thighs. It makes me ache.

I spank her again, and this time her pain sounds like pleasure.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she murmurs, lit up on something she won’t divulge. Circling her hips, she taunts me.

I take the bait like a lust-driven fool, ricocheting my hand off her soft, reddening skin.

This time her moan of pleasure isn’t hidden and it does unholy things to my thoughts. I’m trying to exercise restraint, control, create the gradual build up that I need. It makes the finale cataclysmic.

“You call that a spank, bitch?”

Oh, the gall of this woman. Trying to bait me?ME? She has no idea whose lap she’s in. That the man beneath her makes others cry with just a look. My poor flower’s a single taunt away from being tethered and flogged. One more snide jab from being bound upside down and made to choke on my dick until she feels like her head will explode from the pressure.

I refuse to let her get to me, ignoring her tease, even if she wants me to spank her harder.

“Tell me, flower. Are you wet for me?”

Silence.

It doesn’t matter if she responds. I know she is. I can see the slickness gleaming on her naked skin.

I let her marinate in the sting resonating through her ass as I descend the zipper of her dress. Her back is wrapped and bandaged beneath the fabric, fresh blood seeping through where her spine hit the bed frame.

“Did they touch you after I left?”

“Yes,” she whispers. Finally, an answer.

My eyes shoot to the camera in the corner, promising violence. “There must have been a communication issue, I apologize,” I grind out. “May I look?”

“I don’t care.”

I shift beneath her, pulling a knife from my pocket. I was let through with it this time, the brokered deal allowing me moreleeway than before. I cut downward from where the zipper ends to the bottom of the dress. Pulling the shreds of fabric back, she’s completely naked in my lap. Though, all I care about is who I’m going to bleed out for disobeying my direct orders.

Rose doesn’t shift, doesn’t so much as tense up in pain, when I peel away the bandages. Her tattoo is mangled, wounds stitched poorly. “Flower?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you give him your tears?”

“No.”

All this and she didn’t crumble? I’m even more sure of my plan now, it's perfectly tailored.

I re-pocket my blade then slide my hands under her. Lifting Rose off me, I place her gently on the mattress. Her interest is piqued as she watches me move around the bed.

“Nice shirt,” she chuckles as I stand before her, slowly unbuttoning it.