My Rose

22. Rose

Chapter 22

Rose

“In our play we reveal what kind of people we are” ― Ovid

“ W here are you taking me now?” I asked as his fingers held the tips of mine, pulling me down one of the long stretches of hallways in his estate. If I believed I was in a museum before, seeing the hallways had only strengthened the belief. Every few paces there was some form of expensive, untouchable artwork. I wondered if his father put them around the house, or if his mother had since she was the one who had been reading Ovid.

“It’s a surprise. Something I think you’ll enjoy more than you did the first time.”

My bare feet slid to a halt against the cold flooring as we passed a window and I felt Briggs tug gently before he, too, stopped and moved to stand beside me. Instead of rushing me along, he enveloped me in his arms, pressing his front to my back as I remained fixed on the storm outside. The snow was falling in heavy drifts, blanketing parts of the window and framing it in pillowy-white heaps. Bright rays fought to get through what was left uncovered of the glass, just barely illuminating my chest and face as I looked out.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I whispered.

Briggs bent down, his chin settling on my shoulder as his nose brushed the edge of my neck. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I elbowed him and giggled. “You aren’t even looking!”

“I am.” He kissed the top of my shoulder, his lips grazing over each mark he’d made on my skin, causing me to shudder against him.

“I meant the snow, Briggs.”

He grabbed my chin and pulled my mouth to his in a demanding kiss, biting and sucking on my bottom lip between thrusts of his tongue as I melted into him. Then a door shut somewhere down the lengthy hall, around another corner, and I pulled back. “Maybe we should get to wherever you were dragging me to. I still don’t have pants on. ”

“I never want to see you in pants again.” He kissed me deeply before releasing my waist and twining our fingers together. “Don’t worry, no one will come down here. They’ll be more focused on the snow and clearing it the moment it stops. Maybe we can go out once the doorways are all cleared tomorrow morning.”

“Who are they? ”

“The staff,” he said with ease, like it was normal to have people working throughout your house at all hours of the day.

“Don’t they ever go home?”

“Most live on site. There is another road that winds around the back behind the woods and leads to a street full of homes.”

My mouth popped open. “Your dad gave them homes?”

“No,” he stopped walking and turned his head over his shoulder. “He never considered they might deserve a cheaper home closer to their jobs.”

At this angle, his Atlas tattoo was mostly visible. He considered me before he continued pulling me along the hallway, putting the tattoo in clear view. It wasn’t his father who did anything for the people around him. Briggs took that upon himself, making it his burden. I’m sure the people would have found a home somewhere in town, maybe an apartment. Something small and economical, though I hoped they were being paid—

“You don’t think they make enough, do you?”

He stopped again, this time with his other hand on a doorknob. “No, Rose. I don’t.” He pried his darkening green eyes from me and opened the door, pulling me in behind him. For some reason, my legs seemed to work better when he held my hand and guided me like I’d suddenly forgotten how to operate my limbs around him, and he’d become my anchor.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. I nodded, though it was pointless. I couldn’t see a thing. The room was completely dark—only the feel of a low carpet beneath my feet and the sounds of Briggs’ sweatpants brushing together as he moved further and further away kept me from trying to find a light switch before he could.

I thought back to the night at the bonfire when I thought he was going around to the back of his car for something that was nothing like what he’d actually grabbed for me, and I relaxed, knowing I trusted him with everything I had. I hugged my arms, taking in the scent of his shirt right before a few neon lights turned on. My eyes widened as I glanced around the room before they fell to what he’d clearly taken me here for.

“Pool?” I asked as he moved to where long wooden sticks and triangles were hanging along the back wall behind the table. “Again?”

“The first time”—He tilted his head back towards me, his eyes lingering as he took me in from head to toe while his fingers traced the sticks still mounted in place—“you were using a stick that was too big for your gorgeous, petite body.”

I shrugged, smiling at the compliment. “I have no idea how to play, Briggs.” I moved to the other side of the table, pressing my palms flat as I leaned into it, watching him.

He smirked as he pulled two sticks from the wall and walked around the table towards me. “Stand up straight,” he said, and I did, clasping my hands behind my back, making his lips turn up more in a way that reminded me of the shower…and the movie theater room. I pressed my thighs together as he positioned both sticks right in front of me. “Chin forward, baby girl.”

“Yes, sir,” I said through tightened lips as he slipped both sticks under my chin. One of his thumbs moved to stroke the curve of my jaw, and as I leaned into his touch, I felt the end of one of the wooden sticks graze my skin.

“This one,” he said, pulling his hands away and moving back to the wall to put the one he didn’t want back. He took up another, then moved to one of the shorter sides of the table.

“Come here.” His voice was like molten lava to my core as I walked to him slowly. Perhaps, too slowly. He tossed the sticks on top of the table and lunged forward, pulling me to him by my waist, and I gasped. His arm tightened around me, his chest pressing into my back as he reached for the stick again.

“This one is yours, Rose. For now.” His arm smoothed over my stomach and up my side before brushing down the length of my arm until his fingers found mine. “You weren’t using the right hand at that party either, were you?”

I hesitated, my brows furrowing as I thought back to that night. “I’m left-handed, so probably not? I don’t know how it works with pool.”

“You use the hand that you write with to start. So, no.” He lifted my left hand, slipping the wooden pole into it with his right. “You were using the wrong hand the entire time.”

He’d been watching that closely?

“How’d you know? ”

His arms constricted around me a fraction, keeping me pinned between him and the pool table like I’d flee if he didn’t. His hips pushed into me from the back, and I all but moaned as my hips dug deeper into the wood, his length hard behind me.

I pushed back against him, hoping he had other plans than this game. “Because, Rose. I pay attention to you.” I knew the words he wasn’t saying— unlike him . Unlike August , who probably had no idea I was left-handed. How Briggs picked up on that, I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was when we were drinking? Or when I was stitching up his hand?

That was probably it.

“I saw you using both hands, though.”

He pressed in deeper, forcing my chest closer to the table and pulling my hips back to him with one hand as he positioned my hold with the other. My body was completely at his mercy. I hoped it was driving him just as mad as it was making me. I wanted him to push his teasing, low-slung sweatpants down past the defined lines of his hips that dipped to his cock and fuck me right there. I never thought about what kind of person I’d be in the bedroom, but I knew from the moment he slapped me in the shower, reddening my breasts and pussy—I knew I desperately wanted more of exactly that.

I shook my head discreetly, clearing it before my cheeks could heat further as he answered, “Yes. That takes practice.” He snaked his hand up to my elbow, pulling it up and back, then removed his fingers from my hips to push my hair back from my neck. “Right here. This is how you hold it. Is that comfortable?” he whispered into my ear, and just like that, all efforts to not think about him fucking me went down the drain.

“Ye—mhmm,” I replied and his low chuckling breaths grazed my neck.

“Now, using this hand, make your fingers”—He made a V shape with my fingers, then moved onto my thumb—“just like that. You’re doing great, baby.”

“I feel like you’re better at this than August thought you were,” I blurted, going still when his fingers stopped along my wrist. “I guess—not that it really matters what he thinks. I watched your last shot and saw how good you were.” Goddamn word vomit. I looked at the numbered balls in the wooden triangle set up in front of me before Briggs spun me around to face him. I was still holding my stick with shaky fingers as I looked up at him apologetically. “I’m—”

“No, you’re not,” he said, his voice stern and authoritative—a tone he used with me that I was beginning to feed off like a starved, depraved animal. He started inching forward, forcing me back with him. His hands moved quickly, taking the stick from my loose hand and tossing it back on the table behind me with a thud. Briggs towered over me, and my back arched to simply stay on my feet.

“I’m not…” I braced my palms back, my arms shaking. Not from fear. From…something new. That electric current zapped through my body, traveling so far down it made my toes curl.

“I don’t want an apology from your lips, Rose. But I think talking about him anymore ends right here, right now.”

“W-what are you going to do?” I whispered, resisting the urge to grind against him to gain the friction I needed.

Before I realized what he was doing, he gripped my thighs with bruising force, lifting me onto the table. But his hands didn’t stop there. They started inching down towards my knees, and my breathing hitched.

“Have you ever been punished, Rose?”

“Like…grounded?” I squeaked out.

“No.” His lip curved to the side, that crooked, devilishly sexy smile of his making me want to reach forward and kiss him. But I held back, digging my teeth into my bottom lip hard enough to hurt. His hands pivoted, his rough fingers moving to the insides of my thighs where I was still trying to push them together.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Briggs ordered, and without any force from him, I did so. His fingers continued moving up my parted thighs, the cool air harsh along my slick entrance. “I think you need that name scrubbed from your mouth, Rose. There’s only one man’s name I want to hear on your lips when we’re through here, do you understand me?”

I nodded weakly as his thumb reached up to my bottom lip, freeing it from my teeth before he pushed his thumb in. I immediately wanted to take more of him, but right as my tongue lapped the tip, he pushed down on my teeth. His other hand was in my hair in seconds, wrapping the length of it around his fist before yanking my head back, forcing my jaw to open more against his thumb.

“I should fuck those words right from your mouth, shouldn’t I?”

My eyes struggled to meet his with the tight hold he had on me. If anyone else had ever said that to me, I’d probably throw something like I’d treated August’s guitar when he came to my house to pop my cherry . I still wanted to hurt him for that. August deserved more than a busted guitar. But the way I wanted Briggs to do exactly what he just suggested was making me feel powerful in a way I wasn’t used to. I nodded as much as I could with his hand still woven in my hair.

“Look at you, so eager to please me.” Briggs twisted my hair in his fist, pulling harder. His eyes grew wide before mine fluttered up to the ceiling. “But I think you need something else first.” First? The tip of his tongue swept over his bottom lip. “Give me your permission to do what I want with you when I want for as long as you’re mine. I promise you won’t regret it.” He released my jaw, allowing me to speak.

He loosened his hold on my hair, and I lowered my chin. “What if I say no?”

His face softened. “If you say no, then that’s that. But you’ll like how I make you feel if you say yes.” His hands rubbed my spread knees. “I know you want to say yes, baby.”

I inclined my head softly. “I trust you, and I want this. So, yes.”

He pressed his erection into me in approval as he muttered a curse. “If it gets to be too much for you, any of it, I want you to tell me so. Don’t be afraid to use that tongue of yours to let me know your limits. Otherwise, the only thing I want to hear out of your mouth is my name. You may also beg for more or simply say yes, sir. Do you understand?”

My fingers curled over the edge of the pool table, taking in the way his eyes were hooded, the color shifting in them as they glossed over. I made a weak effort to close my thighs, but his body was positioned between them, keeping me from covering how obvious it was that I wanted whatever he was about to do to me. There was no way in hell I was going to refuse to let him do whatever he wanted. That was what I wanted, too.

“ Yes, sir,” I breathed out.

My hair unraveled from his fist, and he reached past me, pushing the balls to the side as if they offended him. “Lean all the way back and position your head just under those holes on the side.” The warmth from his sweatpants was gone, making me whimper as I did what he told me to do without hesitation. “Put your hands above your head, but lay them flat on the table, palms up.”

Again, I did exactly that. Another brush of air flittered along my center as my shirt raised, making me writhe in place. I was wet , and I needed him .

Now.

Briggs prowled beside me, his eyes moving over my body like I was something to be both admired and destroyed. As he took up the longer stick, I stilled.

“I’m going to lay this over your palms, and I want you to squeeze onto it as I do so. Do not lift your hands up.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied immediately, making him smile wickedly as he positioned the stick carefully over my hands, adjusting them and the stick until they were exactly where he wanted them to be. The stick was situated just over the holes on the sides, trapped by the confines of the elevated, cutout sections, preventing it from moving more than the size of the hole allowed for.

I felt restrained, but not. I kind of liked the idea of it. No, I really liked it. Giving him complete control over me was making my pulse quicken and my core tight. I pushed my cheek to the felt, angling my head to see more of him—more of those sharp ridges along his body that he left on full display because I told him he didn’t need a shirt.

If it were up to me, he’d never wear one again, just like he’d said about my pants.

“Fuck. Look at you, baby.” His hands came together as he stared down at me. His brows pinched together as he asked, “Are you comfortable?”

I pinned my lip down again as I nodded my head, sweeping it against the table. He cupped his ear and looked at me, repeating his question until I replied with, ‘Yes, sir.’

“Better,” he growled, still admiring my body like I was going to be feasted on. His hands returned to my thighs, spreading me before him. In one swift movement, he gripped my ass and pulled me closer to the edge, making my arms extend as my fingers curled tightly around the stick like it was a rung on a ladder and I was falling.

Without warning, he pushed a single finger into me, making me gasp. “Fuck, I love how wet you are for me. You’re practically dripping on this fucking table.”

I rocked my hips in response, and when he removed his finger, I whimpered.

“More,” I begged.

“Such a fast learner.” His hands smoothed down the length of my legs before they clasped around my ankles. And then he lifted both of my feet, settling my heels under the inner ledge. “Keep your legs here, or I’ll have to tie them back. ”

“Yes, sir.” My legs were shaking in the new position, the cold air now rolling more freely over my very exposed body as my lower muscles clenched at the idea of him tying me up.

I rolled my head up to the ceiling and squeezed my eyes shut. Waiting. But nothing happened. I pressed my cheek back to the soft surface and peered around where my legs were but saw no one. I opened my mouth to speak but then remembered I was only allowed a few words.

“Briggs?” I finally let out, knowing that was definitely one of the words I could say. “Bri—” I gasped as something cold and smooth settled just over my clit. Before I could think twice about what words I could say, he pushed his finger back inside me at the same time that cold sensation pressed harder against me.

I moaned loudly. “Such a good girl you’re being,” Briggs purred as he curved that finger, making my hips thrust up with it, my feet seeking the ledge like it would stop me from tumbling over. “Your pussy is squeezing so much around just one of my fingers, baby. I want to fit three in you before I taste you. Do you think you can handle that?”

“Yes—” He pushed another finger in, stealing the rest of the sentence from me. “Sir,” I finally added through the pressure. “Yes, sir,” I repeated as he angled both fingers into that spot he found in the shower. The one I was going to try to find if I ever had to go a day without feeling him like this.

I could find it on my own, right?

Probably not .

I wasn’t sure it was normal to want another person so bad in the ways I wanted him, but I didn’t care. I was ninety-eight percent sure I’d rather be here, or tied up wherever he wanted to tie me up than ever step foot outside his house again. But then my brain circled back to what he’d said with that lingering two percent of sanity, and my breathing stilled.

“Taste?”

“Bad girl,” he whispered and pulled his fingers and whatever cold thing he was using to push me to my limits away. I furrowed my brows in confusion. Did I say that aloud? “I want to make you come, Rose, but I won’t let you if you can’t follow the rules. Do you remember what you’re allowed to say?”

“Yes…yes, sir.” I wanted to add I’m sorry , but then I would be disobeying him. Disobeying the rules of this game that I was finding I really liked. “More, please.” My legs were beginning to quake in anticipation—the need to have him touch me more becoming unbearable. My right leg slipped out from where I was supposed to keep it and my cheeks pinked over as I tried and failed to find that spot again, keeping my eyes pinched closed to focus on the feeling of the table.

“Rose.” His voice was muffled, like he’d gone under the table or further across the room—covered by something. I was still too busy trying to notch my heel back, desperately hoping he’d pick right back up with what he was doing once I was positioned the way he told me to stay in. And then his hands were on my ankle, a gritty piece of fabric rubbing over the bone there before it was pushed back, putting me past the position I was in before. He did the same motions with my other leg while I kept my eyes closed, my mouth going dry as I tried to visualize what he was doing to me.

I finally opened my eyes and looked down at my ankles. A thick black strap was wrapped around each ankle, and each of those ringlets was attached to a longer strap that looked like it was wrapped around the table.

“Are you still comfortable, baby?” Briggs asked from beside me as he leaned in, putting his head inches from mine right over the stick I still held onto without abandon.

“Yes, sir.” It was actually much more comfortable than trying to support my weakened legs on my own in the awkward position.

“Good girl.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before he moved back to the spot between my legs. Something white flashed in my vision right before a cooling sensation rolled along my skin, combatting the fire pooling low in my stomach. “Do you know what I have in my hand, Rose? What I was rubbing on your clit before I wrapped up your pretty little ankles?”

I shook my head because no word was allowed in this game that would answer him, and the only other option was telling him to stop. And I didn’t want that. Not at all. So I shook my head again, tucking my chin down to look at him.

He was absolutely breathtaking from this angle—really, from any angle. I couldn’t imagine his roused-up blonde hair and tattooed, well-built frame looking anything less than perfect.

That cold, smooth object slid up my leg. “It’s called a cue ball.” A white ball settled at the top of my knee as I blinked away the thoughts of him naked. “And that stick in your hands is called a cue stick, by the way.” The ball disappeared, only to move back to where it had been before I lost my footing.

I inhaled sharply. “It’s the heaviest ball.” He let the weight of it ease onto my clit, making me wriggle at the cold, hard feeling. I could feel the ball turning, then lifting just enough so the turns were barely grazing my bud. I wriggled harder, my breaths coming out choppy. “It’s the one you strike first to hit the others. To knock them into their place.” His voice was lowering, just like his eyes were to the spot where he was moving the ball ever-so-slowly over me. “It’s the one that if you push it just over the edge, letting it fall into one of the holes on the table, you lose the entire game.” The ball rolled between my entrance and my clit, making me moan more. “You want to win the game, don’t you, Rose?”

And then his eyes flicked up right before he plunged his fingers back inside me. “That’s only two, baby. One more, then I’m going to let my tongue do all the work. Like you so frequently try to do.”

I scowled, but the pleasure he was giving me made it difficult to keep that expression on my face. “Tell me you want more, Rose, and I’ll give it to you.”

The neon lights illuminated his sculpted frame as I tucked my chin to see him again. “More.”

Without pause, he added a third finger and seethed through his teeth with me. “Fuck, Rose.” He tried removing them, then going slower, meeting the same resistance. He finally withdrew the added finger, and his eyes stayed on me as I found my breath again. I didn’t even notice I hadn’t been breathing as my body fought against the added pressure .

“You’re incredibly tight. You need to relax, Rose.” Briggs’ two fingers pulsed inside of me once more, curving and making me squirm. The pressure from the two alone was more than I thought I could handle. His fingers stilled, and then he bent forward, extending his arm until the cue ball was in front of my parted lips. “Lick this baby. Get it nice and wet for me.”

I nearly whimpered as his fingers began to move again while he patiently waited for me to obey. I let my jaw hang open and stuck my tongue out, making Briggs curse under his breath yet again as he swirled the cue ball against my tongue. The way he was bending over me…I could feel how hard he was. How hard he’d been this whole. time. And it made me wriggle more before he pulled back.

He must’ve caught me looking at his crotch because when he lifted his head with the cue ball in one hand and his other hand working my walls, he smirked. “That will be after if you’re good.” I whimpered again, my head falling back right as that ball fell back to my clit.

I moaned as he teased me more with featherlight touches, letting the ball graze just the edge of where I wanted him to be a little rougher. My legs jerked against the restraints, my hips working to get it closer as he continued to pull it away.

“Does it feel good, baby? You want more?”

“More,” I groaned. “Please, Briggs. I need more.”

He began planting kisses along my inner thigh, and as he pushed that ball deeper against me, I cried out for him to keep going.

“I knew you’d be such a good fucking girl for me. ”

“Briggs,” I moaned his name, hoping he’d acknowledge the way I was saying it and give me more. I felt like I was at the edge of a cliff, dangling my legs just over a giant chasm of space. And I wanted to plunge right into it.

“Fucking hell, Rose.” There was silence, and when I tucked my chin down to see him, his head was lower. A lot lower. His breath was a warm caress along my core as he said, “I was going to edge you, but I don’t think I can wait any longer.” The ends of his mussed-up light hair peaked over my spread legs, making a shiver roll down my spine, knowing he usually looked more put together, and I had driven him past that point. I drove him just as mad.

I called out his name again, pushing out a heavy breath while holding his stare. His eyelashes dipped as he looked down at his fingers pulsing inside of me, his breath hot on my skin. I wanted his eyes back on mine. I wanted him to lean up and over the table again, but this time, to steal the breath from my lungs like every kiss from him had done to me so far.

But I couldn’t tell him that. Saying more wasn’t enough to tell him how badly I wanted him. How badly he made me want no one else but him.

“Briggs,” I whispered through panting breaths, drawing his gaze back to me as his fingers stilled. I’d seen him look at me like that before—like everything in him failed to function. Like I could make him forget the things that weighed him down.

But then he snapped out of it almost as fast as it appeared.

“Rose, baby.” Briggs cocked his head, that sinful smirk reappearing. He lowered again, using one of his hands to…to move my legs from the straps. “Are you ready?” The straps fell to the table as he hooked each ankle between his thumb and forefinger, holding the cue ball with the other three. Slowly, he positioned one of my legs over his shoulder, then took the other and did the same. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He can’t wait? My body was trembling in anticipation of what his mouth could make me feel.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered.

“I want you to think of my cock when I push in this last finger again. Think about me filling and stretching this tight little cunt.” His hand started moving again as that cold ball rolled along my thigh. Briggs pushed his two fingers in deeper as I writhed, my hips bucking up as he grazed that spot inside me again. “Tell me you can take it. Tell me you want more of me inside of you.”

“Yes, more.” My arms jerked, pulling against the stick so hard I thought it would break right before he added that third finger. I cried out and tipped my head back, matching the insane arch in my spine as he worked the fingers in tandem, pumping them with vigor.

A dull thud sounded as his knees hit the carpet and then warmth flooded my core as his lips fell to where I wanted him most, easing the pressure of the added digit. This insane need I had never known existed before was burning like a new life inside me. Another thudding sound signaled the ball falling to the floor, long forgotten and almost inaudible over the sounds that were escaping my lips without fail as he gripped my thighs and pulled me closer to him.

And now, all I could picture was his cock, the way it hardened beneath me just hours before. The way it would feel as he slid into me and took everything I could give. I didn’t want to be a virgin anymore. But that wasn’t because of some preconceived notion that being a twenty-two-year-old virgin was pushing it. It was because I wanted to share that with someone special, someone who deserved to have me at my best and my worst. Someone who would keep me safe and that I would feel safe with. Someone I could trust.

That person, I now realized, was Briggs.

Did he have me restrained down on a pool table? Yes. Did he have my legs anchored behind his body, oddly making me feel more safe in his restricting arms? Yes. Had he marked my skin, possibly bruising my thighs, ass, and waist as he held onto me while devouring my pussy? Absolutely. Was I nearly biting my tongue to keep from begging for what I knew he wouldn’t give me? Double-absolutely.

But I refuse to do all the depraved things I want to do to you here, in this house, tonight.

But why he could do everything else to me…confused me. It was a new day, and I allowed him to do whatever he wanted to me. So why wasn’t he?

“Why can’t we just have sex?” I let out right as his tongue swirled over my swollen clit. That ledge I was teetering on, knowing I was so close to coming for him like he wanted me to do, would have to wait. However, my body seemed to hate me for doing so, my legs trembling with the knowledge that he might stop altogether or give me exactly what I wanted. He did say he wanted to take me against every surface, didn’t he? A pool table was definitely a surface we could have sex on .

Yet, instead of stopping, or pushing up and pulling his pants down like I so badly wanted him to do, he just laughed low against my center. The vibrations from that weren’t helping what I’d just asked for, my hips begging to rock to seek that sensation over and over again.

“I’ve been on the pill for years. You won’t even need anything,” I added, hoping it would bring him closer to where I wanted him.

“Fuck.” That voice of his sent goosebumps down my legs. He stroked my thigh, pressing soft kisses along my skin. Finally, he resigned whatever was going on in his head and said with too much certainty, “I won’t take you in this house. Not for your first time.” My cheeks flushed at the mention of my virginity. It was starting to become more of a problem than I ever anticipated.

“I want you to be the one who takes it. Please, just take it already.” I was starting to sound like a brat. A needy, spoiled brat.

“I don’t think you understand what fucking a man like me will do to you, baby.” He continued kissing down my inner thigh, making my legs shake behind him. His fingers spread, making me gasp at the way he was stretching me. His eyes—those piercing, green eyes of his, met me once more. “You feel that, Rose? That stretch, that ache ? That’s only a portion of the pain you’ll feel when I bury my cock so deep inside of you, you’ll feel me for fucking days.” His tongue dipped down to my entrance where his warm breath made my hands tighten on the stick even more. “When I fuck you, it will hurt.”

“Please, Briggs.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to continue what he was already doing, or trying to still persuade him to have sex with me. But I begged him without reprieve. And as his mouth continued to not respond with words but rather actions, my mind started to fizzle out. Sparks were flying behind my eyes, and before I knew it, I was quaking in his hold.

He groaned and I knew he could tell I was close. “When I fuck you, Rose baby, I won’t be gentle. When I fuck this perfect little cunt of yours, I want to hear you scream as I fill you, over and over again.”

I could no longer feel my legs. His fingers speared into me, the force reminding me of exactly what he was saying—him filling me, over and over.

His tattooed forearm wrapped over the front of my thighs, keeping them from falling as his teeth grazed my clit and his fingers stroked my walls. “Jesus, you’re fucking soaked. Keep thinking about my thick cock stuffing your cunt. Keep imagining the way it will feel to milk me. You want to take my cum in your pretty pussy, Rose?”

“Yes…sir—” My thighs were shaking so much he had to tighten his hold on my thigh as he relentlessly fucked me with his mouth and fingers. That familiar heat spread low in my stomach, and he praised me for it with a rumbling growl.

“That’s it. Come all over my face right fucking now so I can stuff your mouth. I want to lick this pussy clean.”

And then I lost control, screaming his name.

Thinking only his name.

My muscles were no better than limp noodles as I slumped back against the pool table, feeling my arousal beneath my thighs and under my ass. But I knew I wasn’t done. I wasn’t getting off that easy with this punishment , as he put it.

“Rose.” I felt pressure on my nipples and gasped at the contact. When I opened my eyes, his fingers were lightly pinching and rolling them until they became as wound-tight as I had been moments before he moved. My legs were draped over the edge of the table as he’d made his way to the side without me even registering it until my eyes settled on him. “Open that mouth of yours, little viper.”

My mind was beyond hazy and my lips were already parted, and as I went to part them more, he pushed something that looked like a rubber bottle right past my lips. I made a sound as he eased it into my mouth, not stopping until I started to gag.

“That’s it. Relax your jaw and breathe through your nose.” I blinked at him through teary eyes as he watched me intently. “It’s not going to be comfortable at first, but over time, I think you’ll love having your mouth fucked.” Was he going to— “And no, it won’t hurt me.” I ignored the jab at my question from earlier as he pushed the bottle back in. I choked, then breathed in through my nose like he said to calm the reflex. The bottle was in place for a little longer, Briggs patiently allowing me to adjust to it and the sensations it caused.

“Do you understand what I’m doing to you?” I took a second to respond but hummed one of the positive responses I was allowed. As for which one, I had no clue. My mind was stuck on the fact that he was going to fuck my mouth like I just did to him. I knew he was big, so I had to assume he was preparing me for what he knew was a fucking mouthful. “I do miss your words, baby, and when you get them back, I want you to use them on me and never hold back. Any man who takes that from you doesn’t deserve to have their name pass through your lips.” While this was a punishment for saying August’s name, he wanted me to focus on the sensations only he could elicit from me. I never once believed he was taking my voice from me, and that spoke volumes to the amount of trust I’d put in him.

My breaths were becoming uneven as he reached over, sliding his hand beneath my shirt and pinching my nipple, tweaking it until it peaked uncomfortably against the fabric.

As he leaned further over the table, my eyelids fluttered closed.