34. Rosalie
THIRTY-FOUR
ROSALIE
T he front door banged open, startling Cotton and me as we watched TV in the living room. Immediately, I was on my feet with Cotton in my arms, fear rushing through me.
Before I could make it two steps out of the room to hide in case it was an intruder, Fox appeared, holding Ethan up.
“What’s wrong?” I placed Cotton on the couch and went to them, my heart thrumming hard.
“He’s wasted,” Fox grunted.
“Upstairs,” I said immediately. “My room.”
I did my best to help Fox take Ethan upstairs. Once we were in my room, I stripped him down to his boxers as he sat on the bed.
His head was hanging, and he was mumbling incoherently.
“What’s he wasted on?” I asked tightly, old memories of when he used street drugs rushing through my mind.
“Several large doses of sugar,” Fox answered, an edge to his voice. “He was having a meltdown and took a lot to avoid the situation.”
Ethan’s hands landed on my waist, startling me. I stared down at him momentarily before raking my fingers through his hair. He let out a soft moan before he fumbled to push my short nightgown up.
“Ethan,” I murmured gently. “Hey.”
“I’ma fuck you,” he slurred out. “So hard. Show ’em I love only you.”
“E, man.” Fox reached for him, but Ethan batted his hand away.
“This pussy is mine,” Ethan continued in a slur. “This woman. This body. These tits.”
He was definitely not himself. I looked to Fox, worried in my heart about my sweet Ethan.
“He just took too much,” Fox answered my look in a soft voice. “I’ll get him some water; hopefully, he’ll drink it and flush a lot out of his system.”
I looked back to Ethan as he shoved my underwear down my legs before he kissed along my pubic bone.
I let out a soft cry as he licked up my pussy before he completely buried his face in me.
“E-Ethan. No. Stop. You need to rest?—”
My words were cut off as he pulled away and tugged me onto the bed. I tried to scramble away from him, knowing he wasn’t in his right mind, but he fumbled for me and dragged me back to him, his face buried between my legs as I squirmed beneath his expert tongue.
Fox came back into the room with a glass of water, placed it on the bedside table, and then slid in next to us.
“Let him do this,” Fox murmured, his fingers twining with mine. “He needs to feel in control. If you want, that is.”
I nodded, OK with anything Ethan needed.
His tongue flicked against my clit before he sucked and teased me, coaxing an orgasm slowly out. My chest heaved as I came in his mouth, earning a soft groan from him at his accomplishment.
“Good girl, Rosie,” Fox said softly. “Let him have it. Give it to him.”
Ethan wasted no time moving up my body and crashing his lips against mine, the taste of what we’d done on his tongue.
With one hand, he freed his dick and pushed into me, his groan soft and needy against my lips.
“What do I have to do?” he choked out, railing in and out of me so fast the headboard banged against the wall.
“To prove to them I love you? That you’re mine?
” His tears dropped onto my face as he fucked me hard, Fox’s hand clutching mine.
“Tell me? Do I need to put my baby inside you, Rosalie? Is that what I have to do? I don’t want children, but I’ll do it if it means proving I only want you. I’ll do it.”
I came with a cry as he continued his rough fucking, his cock rutting into my depths without a care as to how much pain he was bringing to me with his pleasure.
“E, slow down. You’re hurting her,” Fox said.
“No,” Ethan snarled, moving harder. Faster.
“E, slower?—”
Ethan let out a feral howl before he came hard, his cock twitching deep inside me. His body went limp over mine, and his soft cries muffled in my neck.
I lay beneath him, my free hand holding him tightly as Fox continued to clutch my other hand, nothing but Ethan’s soft sobs in the room.
Finally, Ethan pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.
“I hope I got you pregnant,” he choked out in a shaky whisper.
“You’re mine. My girl. My sweetheart. I have to prove I only want you.
” He shifted and pressed his hand against my abdomen.
“My baby. I hope… I hope I did it. To prove to them you’re my girl.
No one else. Ever… I-I don’t want kids. Please god.
I’m so lost. I’m lost. Make it stop. I’m begging…
Begging. Please.” His tears dropped onto my face again, making me cry softly with him.
He moved off me and tugged me into his arms, his hand low on my belly.
“Mine. Always mine. I never want to disappoint you, sweetheart. I’d die without you.” And then he went silent, his breathing deep.
I stared at Fox through the dim bedside lamp to see his eyes shining, too.
“Are you OK?” he finally asked, his voice shaking.
I nodded. “Y-yeah.”
“Come here.” Fox gently untangled Ethan’s arms from around me as he slept. He led me to the bathroom before pushing my nightgown up and letting out a soft hiss.
I knew I was a mess.
“You’re bleeding,” Fox’s voice came out with a bite. “Fucking hell.”
“I’m OK,” I answered, wincing as Fox ran a warm washcloth along my aching bits.
“Goddamn it,” Fox snarled. “What the fucking hell. Fuck.”
He pulled the washcloth away. I caught a glimpse of the blood and mess on it. Ethan had been exceptionally rough. It wasn’t like him. I knew his pure heart. He was upset and hurt. I let him do it, so there was no way I could be angry over it.
Fox moved away from me and turned the shower on. I spun and stared at myself in the mirror, Ethan’s and my tears still damp on my face. Gingerly, I touched them, a sadness so profound filling my heart.
“Come on, Rosie,” Fox murmured, lifting my nightie up to remove it from me. “Let’s get you properly cleaned.”
I nodded wordlessly and let him take me into the shower. We stood beneath the warm spray for a long time, holding one another before Fox finally spoke.
“Tonight was a mess. Vander Veer brought Celeste with him. E hates her. He just kept doing drugs to get away from it. I wanted to take him away sooner. It’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, my anger rising. Enzo said no more Celeste. Nothing good ever came from this girl, and he knew Ethan hated her. We’d be having words when he got home.
“What else?” I pressed, staring up at him. I knew Fox well enough to know when he wasn’t telling me everything.
A muscle popped along his jaw, but he only shook his head.
He didn’t want to talk about it. He would eventually. Fox was the sort of guy who had to sort things inside his head before he let them out. I respected that about him, even if it did frustrate me sometimes.
And so I’d wait for him, just as I always had.