Chapter 40
“So, what’s your favourite dinosaur?”
Ripley’s voice worms its way through the lust-fuelled haze. He’s so warm and solid next to me beneath clean blankets, I could fall asleep.
“You can’t be serious?” The whiskey and weed have worn off, allowing the anxiety of the night to slink back in. I can’t believe I just fucked him. I should be mortified, scared, shoving him out the door, but I’m not. I’m calmer than I’ve been in days, and I can’t put my finger on why.
“Do you think I’d joke about something like this?”
“I suppose not, you seem pretty invested in your big lizards.”
“Don’t even start.”
“What?”
“Big lizards,” he mocks.
“Doesn’t T-Rex literally mean ‘Tyrant Lizard’?”
“King of the tyrant lizards.”
I shoot him a look, and he huffs. “Fine, I’ll give you that. But no more lizard talk. Now, pick.”
“Or what?”
He looks like he wants to wring my neck and I stifle a laugh.
I really shouldn’t push him like this, I don’t know a thing about him.
But it’s just so funny watching this terrifying man get riled up about fucking dinosaurs.
He’s so different from who he presented himself to be in Richmond’s cell.
How can the same brute who bear-hugged me so hard I screamed, be the same man who cares about what my favourite dinosaur is?
Someone whose lips are so soft and breath-stealing, I never want a kiss to end?
“Flower…” he growls, the deep resonance rumbling against me tucked into his side.
“Stegosaurus,” I blurt.
Ripley observes me for a moment. “Why must you constantly lie? Throwing any answer out doesn’t please me when it's untrue. Think about it.”
“Stegosaurus was my favourite as a child. Sorry I don’t have one now, as an adult.”
“Hmm…” he grumbles.
“Well, what’s your favourite, Mr. Palaeontologist?”
“At the moment…” he ponders, “Spinosaurus.”
“Figures.” I roll my eyes.
“How so?”
“Big, loud, scary.” I gesture to all of him. “Like you.”
“Oh, I’m loud, am I?”
“Deafening. All up on me moaning loud enough to make my ears ring. ‘Oh, Rose, your pussy’s so divine it's going to kill me’.”
Ripley’s face screws up from the mocking. Does he know I’m kidding? I chuff a light laugh, hoping he realizes I’m not serious. It’s actually unfair how hot he sounds while unraveling deep within me.
“Me?” he chortles. “What about you?” Moving out from beneath the blankets, he gets up onto his knees, dick bouncing freely. “Rip! Oh, Rip! Yeah! Just like that. Your cock’s so big and perfect it’s going to make me cum sooooooo hard I squirt everywhere.”
My face flushes hot. I should be annoyed, or even embarrassed, but reliving the way we came together just makes my cunt thump with renewed desire. “Don’t act like you didn’t like that,” I retort.
Leaning in close, he ghosts a kiss over my cheek. “I wouldn’t dare.” He pulls the blanket up to my shoulders, tucking me in tight. “Get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”
“What?” I exclaim far too loud and desperate.
“What?” Ripley moves to the camera, grabbing his shirt and sliding it on.
“Aren’t you taking me with you?”
“No. Not this time.” He swipes his bottoms off the floor, trying not to trip while sliding them on.
“Why not? Was I not what you wanted?” Not that I played some sort of role this time. That was all me, even after the inebriation wore off.
Some unreadable emotion passes over his face.
He looks uncomfortable and I can’t imagine why.
He just shot me full of cum during the hottest interaction I’ve ever had.
It churns my stomach that he may not feel the same.
Though, if you look like that, I can only imagine the sex you have.
What we did was probably considered pretty vanilla, and in the grand scheme of things, it was.
“There are things I need to take care of first.”
“You didn’t pay for me? Needed to sample the goods before purchase? I get it. Get the fuck out,” I snap, turning away from him.
“Wow, no beating around the bush with you, eh?”
“Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.
Or do, I don’t fucking care,” I mumble, snuggling myself into the bed.
Why the fuck am I running my mouth? It just makes me all the more unattractive.
Any chance of getting the fuck out of here before Sam or Brad sneak back into my room burns up before my very eyes.
“There’s a bargain in the works,” he says, the mattress shifting as he perches himself on the edge.
“An exchange?” I question quietly.
“Sure, if you want to look at it that way.”
“And what if you don’t deliver on your end? Am I stuck here, then?” Gods, shut the fuck up, Rose. You’re being a snappy bitch.
“If that happens, I’ll pay.” His fingers feather over the curve of my hip, the reverence of the touch luring me in like a fool.
Rolling over, I look up at him. “Really?” Fuck, I sound pathetic…
desperate. That’s what men want though, isn’t it?
A woman who knows when to be soft and when to fight?
When to be needy and when to be independent?
Maybe that’s always been my problem. I’ve only ever been the quiet, moldable one.
Even my anger is executed in secret. Only now, on this trip when I’ve been channelling my fearless sister, have I developed a backbone. It’s like we swapped brains.
Ripley nods. “I just need more time. Can you be a good girl and give me that?” He rises from the bed, crossing to the exit slowly.
“Like I have a choice,” I grumble, trying not to pout. I want the fuck out of Bleakcrest. Once I am, I’ll do whatever Ripley wants if he’ll get Chelsea out too. I’ll stay with him forever, never run, if he lets her go.
Looking back at me as his hand lands on the door knob, he says, “Don’t be so eager to cuddle up with me, Rose. Not every time will be like this. When you’re healed, I won’t be gentle.”
“What does that mean?”
“Your pain, your tears, your pleasure… They belong to me, and only me. So, until you aren’t injured by someone else’s hand, I’ll play nice.”
“And when I’m healed?” A delicious fearful shiver runs through me thinking of all the possibilities.
He opens the door. “Then I’ll really make you scream.”