Chapter 45
“Everything ready for tonight?” Maximus asks, chestnut coloured loafers scuffing across the marble floor to the staircase.
“Not a problem,” Maximus says, leading me up the stairs to Rose’s room.
There’s no sign of Reid, and I hope his loose lips didn’t get him in trouble.
Perhaps I’ll see him later, and we can touch base outside like last time.
Hopefully, since he’s had time to stew in his words, he’ll divulge a little more intel.
Stopping at Rose’s door, Maximus speaks as the electronic lock disengages. “Enjoy your evening, Mr. Morgan. It seems your toy has something special planned for you.”
I know he can see the excitement light up my eyes as it thrums through my body.
What the fuck did she do?
“Thank you, we’ll connect later.”
He nods, smirking as he turns. His light beige linen suited form heading back the way we came.
With far too much eagerness, I fling the fucking door open.
Where is she?
My hungry eyes sweep across the room.
Once.
Twice.
Looking for that dark head of wavy hair that makes my fingers itch, the eyes that haunt me when mine fall shut in the early morning hours, the perfect fucking body I want to explore every inch of.
The sound of a throat clearing draws my attention.
“Mr. Morgan, I need you to come take a look at something.”
I just about snap my neck from how fast I whip my sight in the direction of her voice.
The redhead with the sharp bob lowers the book she’s reading, apprehension shining in her hazel eyes.
They eat up my appearance. No silly shirt today, just plain grey, paired with plain black shorts and boxers.
I want her focused on me. Not distracted by the funny scene on my top or jokes on my undergarments.
I’m rendered immobile, devouring the sight of her right back. I’ve been struck totally wordless by the fantasy unfurling before me.
How did she know?
I can’t possibly be that easy to read.
Rose looks me up and down, rising from the chair. “Who shows up to a date in board shorts?”
I choke on the dryness clinging to my throat as she approaches, a sliver of skin peeking out from beneath the lilac tank top with each step.
“It’s hot,” I rasp, as her white mini skirt brushes the hand hanging at my side.
The outfit may not be perfect, but it’s close enough to who she’s trying to portray.
A white button up knotted under her bust, and white pumps complete the look.
I’m fucking salivating.
Every plan I had evaporates, the bag of things I brought dropping from my fingers, as she circles me, building my anticipation. A shiver runs up my spine when she lightly touches me. Brushing her soft skin up my arm, across my shoulder, stopping to cup the back of my neck as she stands before me.
“Kneel.”
Fuck that, half of me screams. The dominance I’m used to wielding pushing to gain control. While the other part, the horny half, doesn’t want this to end.
Her fingers twirl in the dark strands at the base of my neck, burying my resistance beneath the feeling her touch awakens.
My eyes don’t leave hers as my knees hit the plush grey carpet.
A flush reddens her cheeks. The sight of me submitting to her as arousing as the vision of her before me, fingers coiling tighter in my hair.
“Good boy,” she coos confidently, her apprehension swiftly disappearing.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan involuntarily. I’ve never been treated like this.
I’ve been praised before, in the darkest of ways. But, yet again, without knowing it, Rose overwrites the past. Hearing the words coming from her mouth doesn’t awaken the pain. Though the memory remains, sharp and biting, the ache is dull, easily dismissible.
How?
I don’t fucking know.
However, I don’t want to give it up—give her up. She’s my little escape from the past that’s plagued me for a lifetime.
I fall into the oasis of her fingers running through my dark hair, brushing it back from my face.
“So handsome, aren’t you?”
I smirk, both flattered and knocked off-kilter by the compliment.
Rose fists my hair, jerking my head back.
Shocked, I tense up, my soft gaze turning sharp.
Slowly, she leans down, bending at the waist. I know I’d see her slick centre if I was behind her, and it irks me that I can’t.
Her cleavage infiltrates my sight momentarily, distracting me. But I bring it back to her face quickly.
Doesn’t matter.
She noticed.
Rose knows I’m starving for her and she’s revelling in it.
“Aren’t you?” she repeats more forcefully.
“Yes,” I grind out, fighting a wince as she tightens her grip on my hair.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Nothing.” I don’t want to ruin whatever she got dressed up for.
“Dump it out.”
I ignore her demand.
“Every time you disobey me, Ripley, I’ll lose a piece of clothing.”
Fighting a smirk, I reply, “I fail to see how that’s a problem.”
Rose steps out of the shoes, kicking them to the side. “I’ll toss the wig next, and your little fantasy will go bye-bye.”
“Your threat only works because you think I’d rather fuck this theme park version of you, than the real one. And I would not.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah, ‘oh’.”
“Would you stop being so fucking stubborn and show me what’s in the bag?” She exasperates, breaking character.
“No.” I raise my hands, curling them around the back of her calves. Slowly, I drag them across her soft skin. She hums, my gentle touch working her up.
Quickly, she kicks over the paper bag, some of its contents spilling onto the floor.
I pause, wondering what she’ll say, if she’ll put the pieces together.
“Rip…”
I don’t respond, but I do lift my gaze from where our skin meets to her puzzled expression.
“The flogger, rope, and blindfold I get. But what are the cards for? Is there some kink I don’t know about?”
I bark a laugh. “No. Well…maybe, but if there is, I’m not into it. I thought we could play to pass the time.”
“You wanted to play cards?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“Kind of…”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not at all what I expected.”
“Is that bad? Do you want me to come in here and be a monster?”
“No…well—”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Nothing. There’s no problem. I’m being stupid.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, I am. It’s shitty of me to label you like that. For all I know, you could’ve been trying to be scary for the boss’s benefit.”
Well shit in a shell and call me Sally. She’s warming to me far sooner than I ever expected. Though, when faced with a place like this, I suppose you’d cling to any goodness you can find. Even if it’s fake.
Sometimes I’m so good at what I do, I surprise myself.
Looking up at her from beneath my thick lashes, I shamefully reply, “I deserve the title. I was terrible to you that first day.” I was fucking horrible to her, but I’d do it all over again.
Shit, I’d do worse. Fuck her there in that dingy room.
Let Maximus and his torturer watch me take her without guilt or restraint, because even now, it’s agony withholding myself from her.
She looks away for a moment and I grab the rope, slipping it into my back pocket. “Compared to everyone else, you’re pretty great.”
“Even Karson?” I joke.
She turns back my way, a small smile forming on her blushing face. “Let’s not go that far.”
My lip curls in annoyance, fingers tightening around the back of her thighs. “Well, can Karson do this?” I growl, launching myself at her.
I quiet her gasp of surprise when my lips slam into hers. I crash us together, lifting her against me as I get to my feet.
Rose’s tongue teases at my lips, begging me to deepen the kiss as I move us to the end of the bed.
Gently, I place her feet back on the carpet. “Turn around,” I whisper. Fear seeps into Rose’s eyes, hesitation stalling her movements. The control shifts back to me, awakening the dominance she pushed aside.
“W-why?” her voice shakes. Gone is the demanding woman from moments ago.
My hands grip her hips, spinning her around. “Because I said so.” I press her into the footboard, crowding her space so she can’t escape.
“Ripley…” She squirms against me as I cage her in, laying my hands over hers on the wood.
“What?” I rasp, kissing over her skin until her trepidation melts away.
My left hand drags up her arm, cupping her jaw and turning her lips my way, while my right hand pulls the rope free.
Rose loses herself to me.
To this kiss.
Completely unaware as I thread the black silk rope through the decorative hole in the footboard. I rock my hips against her ass. Letting her feel the way I throb for her. Rose’s moan resonates down my throat, and I consume the sound like a fucking junkie.
Only when I cinch the knot tight, tethering her to the bed frame, does she realize what I’ve done.
Her lips leave mine, a chill slinking in at their absence.
Rose looks at her binding, pulling and testing its strength. But I’ve trussed so many people, I could do it in my sleep.
She’s mine until I let her go.
“Untie me.” Her tone is flat—cold. It’s off-putting. Is she scared? Does she not like it?
“No.” The word is out before I register it, even as the thought of giving in to her tumbles around my brain.
“Now, Ripley.”
“You seem to have this arrangement confused, flower. You do as I say, not the other way around.”
“Fuck you.” My cock jumps at her tone, liking it as much as the rest of me does. There’s the woman I saw in the cell.
“Mmmmm,” I rumble against the shell of her ear, fingers lifting the hem of the white mini skirt. “I will fuck you.” I kick her feet apart. “All fucking night if you snap back like that.”
“You want me to be bitchy?”
I push down the front of my shorts, swiping my tip through her slickness before slowly pressing inside her, savouring every wet inch. “I want you to be you.”