33. Rosenna
Chapter thirty-three
Rosenna
S itting in the bathtub, I flipped to the next page of the novel I was reading as the candles burned. Gavin was staying late at the office tonight, and I was home alone.
It had been a week or two since the rather… interesting session in Beckham’s warehouse. Since then, he’d managed to squeeze in another two sessions before deeming me worthy of a break from him for the last few days, which was much-needed as I needed to get my head on straight.
I had been trying to forget my dinner with Gavin the other night. I had been trying to forget my encounter with Brent at the museum. I had been trying to forget what Beckham had said to me.
I would give you everything, Flower.
I would give you everything, Flower.
I would give you everything.
His words, his actions, his mind games… I was losing my control, and sooner or later, I would need to face this. Sooner or later, the art exhibit would be over with, and sooner or later, I would need to make a decision. Beckham or Gavin. My sanity should be amongst the choices, however I decided that was among the least of my worries currently.
In addition to the men who had absolutely taken over my life, I had been ignoring my father’s calls. He demanded that I talk to him and my mother over dinner, and he demanded that I tell him how I’m doing. I still wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Unfortunately, he’d just let me know that he knew of my upcoming exhibit and was planning on attending with my mother, and that I would have to meet them for dinner afterward—hence this bath to unwind.
However, with my glass of wine, extremely erotic novel, and memories of Beckham and I still fresh in my mind, I was setting myself up for failure.
Reading between the lines, I bit my lip as my hand slowly trailed down my navel. Leaning my head back, I immediately let out a moan as my fingers found my aching clit.
I want these moments… to fucking fill your head… Know that he’ll never be able to treat you like I would, make you feel like I do, fuck you, or own you like I do.
“Beckham… fuck,” I whispered as I continued reading the dangerous and tempting words that danced along the page. My two fingers found my entrance, and I practically convulsed as I imagined him taking me into his studio... surrounded by his sensual portraits of us and being totally and utterly subjected to his mercy.
My mind suddenly drifted to us in the kitchen… just a few feet away from the patio. Even though we could’ve been caught, all I could think about was his hands on me. His control, his dominance. Then, it shifted to the extremely erotic abstract painting we made using just our bodies and paint.
Dropping the book to the ground, I leaned back in the tub as my eyes rolled back.
I had been trying to forget.
Trying to forget his hands. His lips. His voice.
Trying to forget what he’d done to me. What he was still doing to me.
But his voice lived in my head now, whispering, looping, drowning out every other thought.
I need you to remember that you belong to me.
“I’m yours… I’m yours. I promise,” I whispered as my hand went faster. My pussy was practically begging to be filled by him… to be used, abused, and accept anything he’d give me.
Then my mind shifted to his soft caresses in the midst of my panic, his warm embrace after my face-off with my sad reality, his tender touch as he held my hand, buckled my shoes, placed a seatbelt over me, kissed my forehead, made me his… and that could’ve sent me over the edge just thinking about the way he treated me… the way he cared about me.
On the verge of cumming, I leaned up as my mouth parted in a silent scream. My legs practically trembled as I chased my release, yet my euphoria was abruptly cut short as my phone rang beside me.
The sound slashed through my pleasure like a knife, my entire body jerking in the water.
Catching my breath, I ripped my hand away from my core as I picked up my cell with my other hand and held it to my ear, my chest heaving and my mind still trying to catch up.
“Hello?” I questioned abruptly. I hadn’t bothered looking at the caller ID, and unfortunately, the person speaking caused my legs to tighten.
“Flower... is this a bad time?” Beckham asked.
I closed my eyes as I breathed in deeply before shaking my head.
“No... no, you’re fine,” I whispered.
He hummed as my core trembled at his voice.
“Well... I wanted to discuss a few things with you if you weren’t busy.”
I nodded, attempting to mask the need in my voice. “Sure... is something the matter?”
Beckham was silent for a moment before speaking once again.
“Flower, where’s Gavin?”
“He’s not home right now,” I said softly.
He hummed again as my thighs clenched once again. He remained silent, and I pushed my hair behind my ear as I internally groaned, utterly frustrated by the sound of his smooth voice, annoyed I couldn’t release said frustration. “Beckham, what did you want to discuss?” I asked.
“What are you doing now?” he asked, and I bit my lip before responding.
“Before you rudely interrupted… I was taking a relaxing bath…”
He chuckled, a hint of something laced in his tone.
“Mmmm… Is that it?”
I narrowed my eyes slightly. “Yes, Beckham… is there anything I can help you with?”
“No… not particularly. However, I’m sure I can help you.”
I shook my head with an irritated sigh. “Beckham, if you don’t want to discuss business or whatever it is you called me for, then I’m going to go.”
“You sure you don’t want to hear how much I miss your little pussy?” he muttered, and my eyes widened as my thighs clenched, heat flooding me so fast I nearly whimpered. My face flamed as he continued, “Hmmm? Would you rather I show you with my tongue or with my cock… huh, Flower? What sounds good for your little cunt right now?”
My body shuddered at his voice. My hand subconsciously traveled back down to my pussy as my head leaned back.
“Let me hear you, Flower.” A small moan left my throat as my fingers found my drenched core again. “You have to tell me, baby… Which one sounds better… my mouth or my cock?”
I shook my head as I toyed with my clit. “… Your fingers,” I whispered, and he chuckled.
“Mmm, I bet you’d beg me to finger-fuck that little cunt, huh? I bet it’s fucking begging me to stretch it…”
I moaned as I plunged my fingers deeper.
“Beckham…” I whispered breathlessly.
“Fuck, you’re pathetic,” he whispered degradingly, and I whined as my fingers went even faster. “Fingering your little cunt in the bathtub. Thinking about another man fucking using your pussy. You know your husband can’t make you feel this way… you know the only way you’ll cum is if I fucking let you.”
“Beckham… don’t stop,” I whispered.
“You think you’d have a fucking choice? You fucking stop when I tell you,” he practically seethed.
“Okay, okay.” I whispered with tears in my eyes. I could faintly hear him unbuttoning his pants.
“Keep fingering your little cunt… tell me what you want next… come on… tell me how you want me to use you.”
I moaned loudly as I imagined him fucking me deep.
“I can’t… It’s too much.”
“It’s never fucking enough, Flower. Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.” He moaned as tears escaped my eyes. “I fucking own your cunt. You’re my little whore.”
“I’m your little whore,” I whispered, and his breathing quickened.
“Fuck, I want to cum so deep inside your little cunt. Make you fucking take it until you can’t anymore. Fuck, fuck…” He groaned, the sound of him forcefully stroking his cock filling my ears.
I felt my release come in full force as I whimpered into the phone.
“That’s it… let it out of that tight little pussy. Let me hear you beg for fucking more,” he groaned into the phone as my legs shook at the overstimulation. He let out one final moan as I assumed he came undone as well.
Lying back in the tub, I tried to catch my breath as he let out a small breath of relief.
“What time does Gavin get home?” I could faintly hear him grabbing his keys in the background.
“Was the phone sex not enough for you, Mr. Garcia?” I asked playfully as a small smile came to my face. Hearing him close a door through the phone, I listened as he got situated in his car.
“That doesn ’ t answer my question. What time does your husband come home, Flower?”
I sighed as I glanced over to my burning eucalyptus candle.
“Usually, when it’s past eleven, he stays the night on one of his buddy’s couches.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen.”
I didn’t say anything as he ended the call.
Gazing up at the ceiling, I thought to myself.
The pampering, the attention, the sex, it was all turning me into an addict—an addict who craved the fix of the flawed and imperfect man who knew nothing of boundaries.
Maybe this was all simply mindless addiction to sex. That would be a better explanation or justification than me openly admitting that I was slowly but surely falling for him.
I would give you everything, Flower.
A highly dangerous statement to make to a woman currently in the midst of a mid-life crisis and failing marriage. It was tempting to give in to it… but Beckham was dangerous and tempting, too. And as much as I wanted to believe he would have feelings for me… it was difficult for me to accept that an emotionless man all of a sudden found a way to love.
What would happen when the spark or the flame under us died out? Would I be left in the same circumstance that I am right now? In a marriage that’s practically hanging on by a thread?
I should be optimistic that we could work out, but when … if we didn’t work out, what would be the point in leaving Gavin to end up with the same fate in the end?
Shaking my head, I grabbed my towel and drained the water before stepping out of the tub. I had to get out of my thoughts. I had to distract myself from my rumination and emotional distress. And like a vicious cycle, the person who caused me to feel overwhelmed, mentally exhausted, or distressed was the distraction I craved.
Standing in the living room, I gasped as Beckham slowly entered my pussy. I moaned deeply as I wrapped my arms around his neck. With one of his hands under my thigh, hiking it up so he could be at a better angle, and the other tugging my hair back, he made sure I felt every single inch of him. That he was deep inside of my cunt, forcing me to forget about my husband and engraving his image on my mind and in my core.
“You feel so fucking good, Flower…” he whispered as he pushed against my cervix. My hands clawed at his back as my mouth widened. The moan that wanted to surface got choked up in my throat as he spoke against my ear. “Tell me how good it is… tell me, baby.”
“It’s so good,” I cried as he chuckled, kissing away a tear. Picking up my other thigh, I squeezed him closer as he fucked my cunt. My nails scratched at his back even more, most likely leaving light scars as he pounded me even deeper.
“Just fucking take it, just take it like that… good girl, good girl, Flower.”
My legs trembled in his arms.
Placing a small kiss on my neck, he laid me against the couch and grabbed my hand. Slowly, he brought it down to my clit, and I gulped softly as his mocking, sinister smile came to his face.
“Rub your little clit, baby… just like you did in the bathtub, remember? Show me how good you felt when you were thinking about me… let me see.”
I hesitated, my fingers twitching, but he snatched my jaw, forcing my eyes on his.
“Let me fucking see.”
My fingers found my swollen clit, slick and pulsing as the bundle of nerves caused me to convulse.
His sinister smile remained. “Maybe I’ll still be fucking you and your husband will walk in. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Instead of feeling any kind of disgust, my pussy only clenched him hard, growing more slick as he let out a mocking, almost cruel chuckle at my reaction.
He held my hips still, making sure he went even deeper as he placed a kiss on my lips.
“Faster, Flower, come on… make yourself cum all over my dick, baby.”
My body twitched as I came undone. His hands held a firm grip on me, holding me still as he overstimulated me despite my weak efforts to slow his thrusts.
“No running, no hiding. You fucking take it. You fucking take me ,” he growled, driving his hips into me as my vision blurred and my body trembled.
He grabbed me by the throat, forcing my mouth open in a silent cry of ecstasy. His own mouth parted, mirroring mine in a cruel mockery, dark amusement flickering in his eyes.
He knew I couldn’t speak, knew I was too far gone, and at the sheer sadism of it all, my body convulsed, trembling violently as he let out a low, satisfied hiss.
“Fuck, you look so pretty,” Beckham groaned, watching me come undone in his arms, his hand tightening on my throat like he knew I needed it. “My perfect fucking girl.”
Gavin’s touch had never burned me like this. Had never made me shake, made me beg, made me need.
But Beckham… Beckham devoured me. He took and took and took… and I gave him everything .
I shouldn’t crave this. I shouldn’t want his touch. I shouldn’t be falling for him. But I did, and I was. When we finished, I would be filled with guilt all over again just for him to coerce me that the next time would be the last time. And like a fool, I would love every minute of it.
What a vicious cycle this was…