Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

ROSE

T he second I heard him move, I whipped around, ready to catch him watching me, not knowing what I would do about it.

But he wasn’t looking at me or gawking at me, dying just to glimpse my body. No, he was completely unaffected by me and my indecent state. He had entered the other room and turned on a light in what looked like a bathroom.

I glanced over at him every few seconds while buttoning the shirt he’d offered me, to see if his back was still turned. Each time, it was. True to his promise, he was a perfect gentleman. He granted me privacy and respected my modesty.

He had kept his promise.

I should have been happy he had kept his word, and that I wasn’t with some lecherous pervert that would prey on me. I should have felt relief and gratitude along with burning embarrassment for being a burden on someone else.

Why did I feel rejected and disappointed?

Though I had to admit, his back, even shrouded in darkness as it was, fascinated me. Just looking at him like this made my fingers itch for my charcoals. The way I would draw this body, over and over. I had tried my hand at figure sketches before, and even took a class with a live nude model. Once I got over the shock of being in a room with a naked man, I was bored.

But this man, this stranger, he wouldn’t leave me bored. I was inspired. I wanted to capture the shadows and how they seem to dance with the candlelight on his skin, in charcoal, and then the depth of the golden glow of his skin, with oil paints.

I wanted to know if it was possible to convey his intense glare, his dominating presence, and his sinful arrogance in a portrait. When he disappeared through the doorway for a moment, I took advantage of the second of privacy and buried my nose in the collar of his shirt.

His cologne smelled of bergamot, dark spices, rum, and some other essence on the shirt, something uniquely him. The combination smelled like decadence and dark desires.

I bit my lip, trying to memorize every note of this incredible smell, until he walked back into the room and caught me sniffing his shirt like some weirdo.

“I promise you, it smells far better than your clothes do right now.”

My mouth went dry, and my cheeks burned. All I could do was stare at the floor, not knowing what to do or what to say. I wished I was like my sister, Amelia. She always knew what to say in any situation. She didn’t mumble. I was positive her cheeks didn’t feel like they caught fire if she was attracted to someone, and she didn’t feel the need to stare at the ground because she wasn’t brave enough to look them in the eye.

She knew how to stand up for herself. She broke away from Mother and her demands. I hadn’t been able to do that, not entirely.

My hand went to my hair, my fingers twisting in the brown locks while I tried to work up the courage to ask him… something. Anything.

“Come here,” he demanded, and my feet obeyed before I knew what I was doing.

“Good girl,” he muttered, and my heart raced.

I shouldn’t have liked that, being told I was a good girl like I was a dog, but my God, did I want to earn his praise.

He put his large hands on my waist, his thumbs nearly touching, and lifted me from the floor to place me on a wooden desk.

“What are you doing?” I shrieked. I hated being picked up, but his hands were warm, and they made me feel small in a way that didn’t make me feel childish. Instead, I felt delicate. I liked it far more than I should have.

“You’re injured,” he said, his hands on my bare knees. “I need to inspect the wound and clean it.”

“Okay,” I said, and he yanked my legs apart then knelt between them.

I wanted to protest, but my heart was hammering too loud in my ears for me to hear myself think beyond all sorts of dirty thoughts racing through my head. Thoughts of him acting out some things I read on my phone late at night, when no one could catch me.

Then I saw the gash on my inner thigh.

Another wave of heat rushed through me. This time, it wasn’t some misplaced lust. It was anger. I knew exactly when that had happened. When they first attacked me, one man grabbed me, throwing me to the ground. He had a blade in his hand, and he tried to climb on top of me, but the others stopped him, no doubt wanting to do whatever horrible thing they were going to do somewhere more private.

When he was dragged off of me, his knife had cut through my leggings and into my flesh. It hurt a lot, and that was when I screamed again, before one of the other men pulled me up by the hair and slapped his hand over my face.

After that, everything got so much worse that a cut on my thigh hardly seemed to matter. Now that I had looked at it again, I could feel the sharp pain and the blood trickling down my leg.

“Does this hurt?” he asked, touching just above it.

“Yes,” I said, watching his fingers touch my inner thigh.

His hands were so warm and gentle on the delicate skin, his dark golden tan made that much darker against my pale thigh.

A wave of something washed over my body when his skin touched mine, moving from my cheeks and meeting in my core. I could even feel my panties dampening between my legs, and I prayed he couldn’t see it.

There was embarrassing, and then there was mortifying.

He made some low growling noise in the back of his throat, and I swear the vibration went through my legs straight to my clit. My core clenched, and I did my best to not let the want and embarrassment warring in my body show on my face.

It’s just hormones, I told myself. It was the adrenaline of the entire situation, and not because this stranger was shirtless and so close, and he smelled so good, and my fingers ached to trace his abs so I could memorize the lines to recreate on canvas later.

“I will clean this up, and it may sting a little. If you are good for me, I will reward you. Do you understand?”

I nodded, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip as he looked up at me. It was still dark, the shadows playing around his features, but I could clearly see his eyes were the most remarkable color. It was like a deep mocha with flecks of gold and copper that caught the light and looked like embers burning. I had never seen something so breathtakingly beautiful.

Then, my awe was disturbed by a searing, stinging pain as he poured rubbing alcohol on my wound.

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood in my mouth, trying not to make a sound. More tears burned in the backs of my eyes, but I didn’t look away. Even with the pain radiating from my thigh, his eyes held mine captive.

At least the pain redirected some, but not all, of the things I was feeling.

“I’m sorry. The only thing in the first aid kit that would have cleaned this wound was the alcohol. I would have much rather used something gentler, but unfortunately, this is what I have at the moment.”

“It’s okay,” I managed, still holding myself together as he poured more on the open wound.

“You are doing so good for me,” he praised, and suddenly I could take the pain. What was a little pain compared to the rush of pride I felt when he gave me that look and told me I was good?

He got to his feet, hovering over me, then cupped my chin with one hand and tilted my neck back so I was forced to look into his eyes again.

“Take a deep breath for me, angel.”

I did as he commanded without a single moment of hesitation. As I filled my lungs, he pressed some gauze against my thigh. The pain was so intense my vision whited out, and my breath left me in a whoosh. But I didn’t make a sound.

A silent yell of pain passed through my lips, but I refused to let it win. I refused to voice it, and when it passed, the pain still throbbed in my thigh. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth.

“Good girl,” the stranger purred. “You were so good for me. Do you want your reward?” he asked.

I knew I should ask him to take me home or even call my family and have someone send a car to wherever we were to get me. I should be demanding some kind of sweatpants or something to cover my legs, and a phone.

Amelia would have made demands.

I just sat there, mesmerized by the dark eyes with flecks of fire, and nodded like some obedient fool.

His hand moved down my jaw to my throat and he wrapped his fingers around it.

He wasn’t hurting me. It didn’t feel violent; it felt possessive.

Somehow, I knew he would not choke me; he was reminding me to behave.

Having already secured the gauze after blotting my leg dry, his other hand moved higher up my thigh. I tried to slam my legs closed as a reflex, but he was still standing between my knees.

He clicked his tongue, and his fingers tightened around my throat. Still, it wasn’t hurting me or even restricting my breath. It was a warning.

“Be good, little angel, and I’ll make you feel good,” he whispered, and a little whimper left my lips.

The heat seemed to go from his palm against my neck into my skin, and it traveled straight to my core while his fingers brushed over my panties, sending little shocks of electricity through me. No one had ever touched me there. No one had dared get too close to me.

“Maybe you’re not my good little angel,” he said with a low, dark laugh. “I can feel your thighs trembling around my hips, your pulse racing under my fingers, and your pussy has already soaked through your pretty, plain panties. Your cunt must be so wet for me.”

I said nothing. What was there to say? There was no way I could hide anything from him, not like this. He could feel my desire. I was sure he could also see down the shirt he had lent me, and the way my nipples were hard for him. He knew I ached for him to do so much more.

That didn’t mean I could say it.

“No, I don’t think you are my good angel. You are my bad girl, who would benefit far more from a punishment than a reward. After all, you got yourself in so much trouble. You should have known better. Now, you interrupt my day, and I have to take the time to tend to your wounds. Does that sound like a good or bad girl to you?”

When I didn’t answer, his fingers tightened around my throat, and he leaned in.

“Answer me,” he growled. I gasped as his breath against my ear seemed to light up every nerve I had. My entire body was buzzing.

“I want to be good,” I said.

“Maybe, but I promised you a reward.” He straightened, his fingers slipping under my panties, and he pressed my clit with his thumb. My body bucked under him. “One thing you should know about me, angel. I always keep my promises.”

His thumb started tracing little circles around my clit, and a finger slid deep inside me. “Stay still,” he demanded. I couldn’t help the gasp that left my lips.

“Has anyone ever touched you like this before?” he asked.

I shook my head no.

“Has anyone ever tasted this tight little pussy of yours?”

Again, I shook my head. Between my dad’s money, my mother’s personality, and my brother’s job as the DA, no one had ever been bold enough to date me, let alone do something more.

“Have you ever taken a man inside you?”

“No,” I blurted out. Lying was a sin but then again… so was this.

He shouldn’t be asking me such an intimate question. I wasn’t going to tell a complete stranger that I wasn’t still a virgin. Besides, that fumbling one and only time was so quick I practically still felt like one.

He leaned down again, and I thought for a second that he would kiss me, but he didn’t. He stopped just before our lips touched, and he curled his finger up, pressing into the most fantastic spot inside of me.

I moaned again, not able to help it. My cheeks were catching fire again, and my fingers opened and closed at my sides. I wanted to reach for him, to feel his bare chest, and maybe even touch him as intimately as he was touching me, but I didn’t dare move.

Only if he told me to.

“Here is what is going to happen. I am going to play with this little cunt, and I am going to make you come on my fingers. You will not make a single sound. Is that clear? I want you silent as I make your pussy mine.”

I nodded, not making a single sound and consenting to let this man keep touching me intimately. It was madness. I shouldn’t have been letting him do this, but I was helpless to stop him.

I wanted it too much.

His thumb kept constant pressure on my clit while his finger slid in and out of me, brushing against the sensitive spot he had found with every single thrust.

“God, you are so tight, and so wet. You’re such a naughty little slut, aren’t you?” he whispered in my ear. Even as close as he was, I barely caught his words.

I opened my mouth to say something, then snapped it closed again. What could I say to that even if I could speak? Would I have argued? What argument could I have made, when I was wearing his shirt, my legs were spread, and I was letting him touch me?

“You are so responsive, but well-behaved. You would make the perfect little pet. I would have you naked at all times, chained to my bed, wet and ready to serve me whenever I saw fit.”

Before I could fully register the words or figure out why I liked that idea so much, he pushed a second finger into me. I gasped, the stretch surprising me and burning just a little in the most amazing way. The bit of discomfort added to the pleasure he was giving me. I wanted to cry out, but I couldn’t. That would break his only rule.

“Such a good girl. You’re so greedy for it. I bet you would take my cock so well. The way you’re gripping my fingers, your cunt is so greedy for more.”

The more he spoke, the more he said such graphic and crude things, the more my body responded to him. My thighs were pressing against his hips, the muscles in my core tensing and releasing, and more and more pressure built. Even my fingers, still flat against the desk, were cramped with the need to reach out and touch him.

I wanted to put my hands on his bare chest, feel his skin and heartbeat under my fingers, and know this was real. This was happening. But I couldn’t. I was too afraid this was a dream, and if I moved, it would all fade away into nothingness.

That couldn’t happen.

“I think you would like that, wouldn’t you? That’s your dark little secret. You dress all prim and proper in your designer clothes. You spend time with the right people and say the right things. Every moment of your day, you act like a lady, but deep down, you are no lady. You are raw fire, passion, and need. This tight little body aches to experience all the sinful things life offers, not just the good things society deems appropriate. No, you need the wicked things that lurk in the dark. You want to taste sin, feel the wicked pleasures of the flesh, and give yourself into temptation. I see you, angel. I see you, and I can give it all to you if I decide you are worthy.”

His hand moved faster, harder, and deeper. The wet sounds of his fingers inside me filled the room and filled me with shame, but even that added to the exoticness of it all.

“Give in to it,” he whispered. “Let it take you.”

My back arched, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I cried out as my hand went to his back, and I held myself against him as wave after wave of pleasure racked me.

“Such a shame,” he said as he ripped his hand from my body, stepped back, and forced me to grip the edges of the desk as the orgasm fizzled out, and I needed more. “I knew you couldn’t be my angel.”