Page 74 of Wallflower

“Untie me.” Her tone is flat—cold. It’s off-putting. Is she scared? Does she not like it?

“No.” The word is out before I register it, even as the thought of giving in to her tumbles around my brain.

“Now, Ripley.”

“You seem to have this arrangement confused, flower. You do as I say, not the other way around.”

“Fuck you.” My cock jumps at her tone, liking it as much as the rest of me does. There’s the woman I saw in the cell.

“Mmmmm,” I rumble against the shell of her ear, fingers lifting the hem of the white mini skirt. “I will fuck you.” I kick her feet apart. “All fucking night if you snap back like that.”

“You want me to be bitchy?”

I push down the front of my shorts, swiping my tip through her slickness before slowly pressing inside her, savouring every wet inch. “I want you to be you.”

Which ‘me’ is he talking about? The one in the cell or who I used to be? I’ve lost myself through this whole harrowing experience, and I don’t know who I am anymore. Can my new backbone be trusted when it’s formed in a situation such as this one? When he releases me from these chains, only to confine me in his own, who will I be then? My quiet people-pleasing self? Or will I sicken him as I did the others? Revelling in his momentary poisoning as I continue to take shit from him just as I have before.

Who will he be outside of these four walls?

I hate that I want to know.

“Rose?”

The concern woven through Ripley’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. Looking at him over my shoulder, I’m shocked by the worried expression on his face.

“Are you with me?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Probably shouldn’t float off to la-la land half a second after he enters me, but maybe he shouldn’t say something deep and meaningful if he doesn’t mean it. How can my mind not wander after that?

“Because I just said some off the wall shit and got no reaction from you.”

Oh… Well,fuck.

“I must’ve been blinded by pleasure. Please, continue.”

“I can’t wait to punish that smart fucking mouth,” he mumbles to himself, sliding out to the tip only to pull me back onto him with all the strength he possesses.

A quick image shoots through my mind. One of me on the bed, head hanging off the side, while he fucks my mouth hard and slow. A delightful little shiver runs through me. “Why haven’t you?”

Rip pulls out, righting his shorts as he strolls back to his bag of tricks. Kneeling down, he rifles through it until he finds what he’s looking for, pocketing it. “Because…” he coos, making his way back to me, “when I fuck this pretty throat so hard you cry, I don’t want the other men you’ve withheld your tears from to see.”

Heat flushes my cheeks, and I don’t want to think of all the reasons why.

Ripley’s warm hand grips my neck, pulling me into a searing fucking kiss. I bow to his demanding touch as he steals my breath.

As abruptly as it started, it ends. He pulls away, rounding to stand behind me once more. His touch travels up my sides andover my breasts, meeting at the top of my chest. He grips the front of the lilac tank top and rips it down the middle.

He cups my breasts, rolling both nipples between his skilled fingers. His grip is firm, demanding, perfect. The pleasure shoots through me like lightning until I’m winding my hips against him.

“Are you with me?” he murmurs against my nape, feathering kisses and nips across my shoulder.

“Yes,” I reply breathily.

“Have you ever used nipple clamps before?”

I shake my head slightly, then nod.

“Yes or no?”