Chapter 6 He’s A Pervert #2
Maverick lunged, catching her and smashing her again against the wall.
His kiss was even more feral this time—hungry, violent—his lips devouring her mouth in maddened thrusts.
He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other pressing her wrists behind her back.
She trembled, her head spinning as he pressed kisses to her neck and cheeks, each one leaving her more breathless than the last.
She managed to slip free once more and sprinted to the first-floor landing. But he was already there, advancing on her with relentless determination. Before Rose could protest, he caught her, hauling her against his chest, one of her wrists pinned tight behind her.
“Stop,” Rose gasped, her hands flying up to shield her neck and mouth. “Stop kissing me. It hurts.”
In one swift motion, his arms locked around her waist and lifted her off the floor. A startled cry escaped her as she instinctively clung to him, her heart hammering against his chest.
He looked down at her. “Our bedroom is downstairs,” he stated, his voice low. “I’m taking you back.”
She swallowed hard, staring up at him without protest, her fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders.
Maverick carried her down the stairs with unnerving steadiness, his steps sure and measured as he descended into the living room.
He set her down on the couch just as her phone on the side table began to ring.
Rose reached for it, Zoe’s name flashing across the screen.
Rose looked at Maverick for a brief moment before he took a seat beside her on the couch. He looked at her expectantly, as though he expected her to answer the call.
Nervously, she picked up the phone and brought it to her ear. The mansion was so quiet that Zoe's voice immediately carried through the speaker, loud enough for both Rose and Maverick to hear.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” Zoe demanded. “And who was the man you slept with last night? Rena told me she had sent a man to meet you, but he never made it to you. Does that mean you slept with someone else? What the hell is going on?”
Before Rose could answer, Maverick reached over, took the phone from her hand, and brought it to his ear.
“It was me. Do you have a problem?”
His voice was calm and serious.
Zoe immediately fell silent.
For several seconds, there was nothing but silence on the other end before she finally found her voice.
“Maverick?”
Her voice trembled slightly, a mixture of surprise and nervousness making the single word come out unevenly.
She seemed unable to find the right words for a moment before suddenly launching into an apology.
“I’m so sorry. I didn't know this happened.
I think Rose just made a mistake last night.
Please don't do anything to her. You know how she is.
She probably didn't understand what was happening.
Maverick, can you please forgive her? It wasn't intentional.
It must have been a mistake last night. I know you're serious about who you let into your life, so please don't take Rose seriously.
It was just an error. Can you please forgive her? Don't punish—”
Maverick ended the call before she could finish.
He tossed the phone onto the couch.
Rose released a deep breath of relief, her shoulders finally loosening. Yet the longer she remained beside the dangerous man, the more intensely she became aware of his presence.
Maverick looked at her.
His gaze traveled from the clothes she was wearing back to her face with such intensity that Rose instinctively drew her arms closer to herself, suddenly conscious beneath his stare.
“Take off your clothes.”
Rose stared at him, confused and tense.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Maverick raised an eyebrow.
“Don't your knees hurt?”
Rose’s mind immediately filled with memories of the previous night—how many times she had been on her knees, how he had kept her there for most of the night, how she had climbed onto him and sat on top of him, and how he had been behind her.
It didn’t even feel like her first time anymore.
They had done it so many times that she had almost forgotten what pain was supposed to feel like.
Despite it being her first time, all she could remember was the overwhelming pleasure she had felt throughout the night.
She quickly looked away, her cheeks burning as memories she had been desperately trying to suppress resurfaced.
She swallowed hard and avoided his gaze.
Maverick pointed toward a door at the end of the hallway.
“That’s the bedroom. Your clothes are on the bed. Go change.”
Rose hesitated.
She felt as though she had lost control of her thoughts around him. Every command seemed to leave her flustered and uncertain, and somehow she found herself obeying before she could argue.
She stood, twisting her fingers together nervously, then turned and walked toward the bedroom.
Maverick watched her disappear through the doorway.
Five minutes later, Rose emerged wearing one of his shirts.
It was an ordinary size on him but oversized on her, falling all the way to her thighs. Although it covered her adequately, she was painfully aware of what she wasn't wearing underneath it, and the realization only made her more self-conscious.
Rose nervously glanced around before looking back at Maverick with a frown.
“There were no clothes. Just this shirt,” she said, pointing toward herself before glancing at the bed. “Why is it just your shirt?”
Maverick raised an eyebrow.
“Do you think I keep women's clothes in my house?”
Rose bit back a response. She had no idea what to say to that.
“I need my clothes.”
“I've already arranged for them. They'll arrive in a few days after they're packed from your house. Until then, you'll wear my shirts.”
His gaze briefly dropped before returning to her eyes.
“It's not as though you'll be wearing anything when you sleep anyway.”
Rose's eyebrows drew together, her eyes narrowing slightly.
‘He really is a pervert through and through.’
She finally walked over and sat on the couch again, deliberately leaving two seats between them.
Maverick glanced at the distance she had put between them. His expression immediately tightened.
“Come closer.”
Rose's hands twisted together in her lap as she reluctantly shifted toward him.
He still looked dissatisfied.
“Closer. Come here.”
She had no choice but to move even nearer.
Before she could settle properly, Maverick reached for her leg and pulled her toward him.
Rose sucked in a breath as he drew her closer, until her legs rested across his lap.
His gaze dropped to her knees.
The redness on her skin was clear as day. His expression changed as he carefully examined the irritated areas.
Rose remained still as his fingers gently brushed over the reddened skin.
Maverick reached for the medicine he had brought with him and squeezed a small amount onto his fingertips. Then, with surprising gentleness, he began carefully applying it to her knees.
Maverick’s fingers were so gentle that Rose could hardly reconcile them with the same hands she remembered from the night before.
His touch had been so rough and commanding then, yet now his fingertips moved carefully over the irritated skin of her knees, applying the medicine with surprising tenderness.
The contrast left her almost breathless.
Her mind inevitably drifted back to the previous night. Memories of his touch, his closeness, and the overwhelming intensity of everything that had happened came rushing back, making her body tense.
She suddenly jerked beneath his hand.
Maverick immediately lifted his gaze to her face.
“Does it hurt?”
His voice was unexpectedly gentle.
Rose stared at him, her cheeks warming as another thought crossed her mind.
‘Is he asking because he wants to do that again?’
The possibility alone made her flush.
She swallowed nervously before answering, “Yes. It hurts. I might not feel better for a few months.”
Maverick studied her expression for a moment, clearly understanding where her thoughts had gone. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“All right. I won't make you get on your knees until you feel better.”
Rose's entire face turned red.
“Don't talk like that,” she muttered, frowning at him.
A hint of amusement remained on his face as he continued tending to her knees.
After a moment, Rose looked at him again.
“Can you not scold Zoe?” she asked quietly. “She was only trying to help me. What happened last night wasn't her fault.”
Maverick's eyes lifted to hers while his fingers continued their careful movements over her knee.
“You’re a good girl,” he said calmly. “But if you want me to forget about what happened, someone still needs to pay for it.”
His gaze sharpened.
“If you want me to forgive Zoe, how are you going to convince me?”
Rose stared at him, uncertain.
“I’ll pay for it,” she said. “What do you want?”
Maverick’s gaze briefly dropped to her knee before returning to her face.
Rose hesitated, her fingers curling nervously at her sides. She drew in a slow breath, gathering her courage before finally blurting out the first thing that came to mind.
“How about I sleep with you one more time?”
The instant the words left her mouth, Maverick’s expression changed.
The amusement disappeared, replaced by something darker and far more difficult to read. He released her knees and reached for the back of her head, drawing her toward him as he leaned over her on the couch.
The sudden movement startled her.
Before she could gather her thoughts, his lips crashed against hers.
Rose’s breath caught.
The kiss was intense enough to leave her struggling to keep up with him. When he finally pulled back, his hand remained cradling the back of her head. Rose breathed heavily, her chest rising and falling as she stared up at him.