Wallflower

Chapter 73

Fuck, the thought of his name scarred into my skin makes my toes curl.

That’s a mark I’ll carry the rest of my life, and Rip wants to put it there, maybe for everyone to see.

If that’s not a declaration of love and eternal possession, I don’t know what is.

He may never say those words to me, and that’s okay.

I see it everyday in the little things he does.

The singular word means nothing if it’s not followed up by actions of passion and devotion anyway.

“Well, flower, what’ll it be?” He grins. “Ass cheek?” Slowly, Rip advances on me, twirling the knife in a delicious taunt. “Over the heart? Between those perfect tits?” His words shoot heat to my cheeks. Can I just say yes to all of the above? “Come on now, I’m getting impatient.”

“On my hip,” I reply.

“Hmm…” he rumbles, sidling up beside me on the right. His gaze travels along my skin as he trails the tip of the blade up the side of my thigh. Stopping at the spot, his fingers brush back and forth over the skin. “So soft…so pristine. Are you sure?”

Of all the marks I have, I’m not at all worried about this one.

“Yes,” I breathe, observing him watch the way his fingers caress the flesh, figuring out where would be best to carve into me.

“Why the hip?” Ripley’s obsidian eyes lift to mine, delving deep.

“Because it’s the first place you touched me.”

He’s shocked by my confession. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Say all the right things?”

“I’m just being honest,” I reply.

His lips come down over mine, hard and demanding. Walking me back, Rip directs me around the corner of the bed to the side I sleep on. The chain drags across the hardwood, my leash getting shorter with every step.

Ripley’s teeth tug along my bottom lip as his left hand travels up my chest to grip my throat. My eyes roll back as his fingers tighten. “Lay on your side,” he whispers, pulling his kiss away as my head spins. He releases my neck, gently pushing against my sternum.

I fall back onto the bed with a gasp, rolling to comply with his instruction.

Placing the knife handle between his teeth, he crawls beside me. Sliding his hands beneath my body, he maneuvers me up the bed, stretching the chain to its max.

Readying the knife in his hand, he steadies me with the other. “Ready?” he asks.

My pulse pounds in my ears. Am I? The thought of this has always turned me on, willingly hurting for another who craves it.

I like the pain too, want it with a ravenous desire. Now that it’s happening, the anticipation mixes with anxiety. Being cut is different than being slapped and spanked.

Taking a calming breath, I whisper my reply, “Yes.”

Ripley’s grin turns feral, hot cock pulsing against my ass as he kneels behind me. “You can’t move this time or I could fuck it up.”

“I know.”

His eyes narrow, blade moving toward my skin, and I tense, waiting for that first slice of pain.

Ripley pauses, clearly hesitating.

I know he claims to be a sadist. Maybe he thinks himself a woman-hater with a need for control, but he doesn’t hate me, and it’s causing his catastrophic turmoil.

He shakes his head, shaggy hair hanging over his eyes. He’s deadly, so fucking sexy, my pussy grips at nothing.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay,” I offer.

He doesn’t reply as his hand abandons my hip, fingers dragging over the swell of my ass before gripping his cock. Rip swipes through my arousal, pressing into me with a low groan.

“I want to feel how much you like it.” He slowly rocks his hips, working himself in deep at this angle. “Give you pleasure with your pain.”

I whimper a response and nod, losing myself to this heady situation.

Stopping his thrusts, Ripley’s free hand grabs my hip tight. Lowering the knife, he looks to me one last time, hovering the blade a hairsbreadth from my flesh. I give a small nod of encouragement, and Ripley’s hesitation starts to melt away.

The first bite of pain is jarring, but welcome, a sting I can’t outrun. Cold metal moves across my skin, slowly warming as my blood paints the steel, splitting it open with almost no pressure.

The burn is euphoric, lighting a fuse deep inside my gut as I fight to stay still. Rip’s dick flexes inside me and I moan as my pussy threatens to squeeze the life out of it. “Shit, Rose, stop that. I can’t focus.”

“Hurry,” I pant, “I can’t—”

He lifts the blade from my skin as his head falls back, groaning deep in his throat. He circles his hips. “I’ve only just started, you need to control yourself.”

“Kind of hard, babe.” His head lifts, eyes shooting to mine. I’ve never called him that before, and I know I just lit a fire I’ll never be able to outrun. “Please, finish…” I whine, “I need to fuck you. Please, I’ll be good. I’ll be still. Just, finish.”

“I’m fucking about to, stop talking like that and squirming on my cock.”

“Ripley!” I exclaim.

His left hand comes down hard on my ass and I buck in response, constricting around him. “Behave,” he growls.

“I’m trying!” I shout, using every ounce of willpower I possess to be a damn statue.

The warm trickle of blood travels down my thigh as he resumes his task, meticulously carving each letter.

Such care and concentration floods his features, muscular body pressed flush with mine.

My insides tighten with each new taste of pain, pussy leaking out around his thickness, soaking the sheets once more.

“Almost done,” he chokes, barely hanging on.

That makes two of us.

The blade curves upward in an arc before dragging down. Ripley repeats the opposite process, and I know he just drew a heart. The sweet, sentimental fucker.

“Done,” he pants, pulling out. Rip moves quickly across the mattress and off the bed, bare feet shuffling along the hardwood as he disappears into the bathroom.

Chains clatter as I roll, sitting up and sliding off the edge of the bed, leaving a path of crimson in my wake. Metal drags across the floor as I attempt to move inconspicuously toward the mirror. I fail miserably as I take the few steps I’m allowed.

Thin streams of blood travel down my leg, but there, engraved into my hip, is his name paired with a tiny heart over the ‘i’.

Rip’s reflection moves behind me, placing bandages and topical ointment on his nightstand. “Come here,” he calls.

I meet his gaze through the glass, shaking my head slowly.

His eyes darken as he moves toward me with determined steps.

Turning, I face him as he comes upon me. Slowly, I sink to my knees before him.

“I need to clean you up,” he says with absolutely no conviction.

“After,” I whisper, leaning forward to lick him from root to tip.

“Ah, fuck,” he groans, as I tease him with the same pace he used on me, twirling my tongue around his crown.

His fingers brush the hair back from my face before they fist tight, tethering us while still letting me lead.

I wrap my lips around the tip, tasting him on my tongue, moving leisurely on his most sensitive spot.

“Take me deeper,” he begs, and I have to fight the triumph I feel at making him crumble.

Backing off, I look up at him. “Make me,” I taunt.

The fist in my dark curls clenches punishingly. “Open up, baby.”

My lips drop open, tongue out for good measure.

He leans down, spitting into my mouth.

“Swallow.”

I’m shocked, my arousal shooting to another fucking level, as I comply.

“Rattle the chain if it’s too much, since you won’t be able to scream.”

“Okay.”

“Good girl,” he coos. Rising to his full height, he glares down upon me. Tugging me closer by the hair, Rip drags his cock across my tongue with a moan. My lips wrap around him. “That’s it, baby, get me good and fucking wet so I can fuck that pretty throat.”

Holy shit.

My thighs crush together, trying to get any sort of sensation as I squirm. My muffled, slutty whine hums down his shaft, and his hips punch forward. Ripley holds himself there, feeling me attempt to accommodate him.

“Shit, that’s it, flower,” he hisses, pulling out slow as my saliva strings us together. He strokes along his length, thick as fuck and throbbing, before sliding back into my mouth.

Rip plunges deep, hard and fast, tears springing to my eyes. His pace is ruthless, the sound obscene, as I gasp to keep up.

“Fuck, look at you,” he pants between sharp thrusts, “so damn gorgeous.” Slipping from between my lips, he leans down.

Rip’s tongue licks up my cheek, collecting the salty wetness with a sound of satisfaction.

His thumb brushes over my mouth. “Swollen lips and running mascara, ruining yourself for a monster like me,” he utters, a sinful quirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Please,” I rasp, and he smiles wide and wild.

“Please what, flower? What is it you want?”

I swallow, looking for my voice.

“My cock? Another orgasm?”

“Yes,” I choke out.

“So greedy,” he purrs. “You’ll get it, just not yet. I’m savouring the first time you put your mouth on me.”

He rises back up, towering like a predator over its prey. Ripley strokes along his dripping cock, collecting the precum and smearing it along his impressive girth. “Open your legs, show me how much you need me.”

Part of me wants to obey, bend to his words without an ounce of hesitation, but a larger part of my soul pleads for him to fucking break me.

“Rose…” he grumbles when I don’t comply.

Just because I’m restrained doesn’t mean I can’t resist.

I want him to show me how much he fucking needs me.

“Fine. Have it your way,” he threatens, releasing my hair and turning from me.

“What the f—”

“Not another word, flower. You knew the rules.”

Swallowing my objection, I remain still. Watching with unrestrained interest as his hands grip the footboard of the bed, dragging it across the room.

Lips falling open, a whisper of a word curls off the tip of my tongue. Ripley’s gaze is cutting when it shoots to my still-kneeling form, and I slam my trap shut.

My knees throb against the hardwood, shoulders heavy and achy as I wait for direction.

Without a word, Ripley approaches me. Fist diving into my hair, he yanks me up from the floor, arm banding around my middle quickly so as to not cause too much pain.

I squeak in surprise, trying hard not to giggle because I got exactly what I wanted.

He might be a big, terrifying crime lord to everyone else, but to me, he’s soft and tortured, with a heart so full of dinosaurs and devotion it borders on unhealthy.

He’d die for his team, I’m sure of it, and more than a time or two I’ve wondered what would’ve happened if I’d died in Richmond’s cell.

What would he have done? How would he have felt? I’m glad I’ll never know.

Ripley drops me down onto the mattress, voice leaving no room for refusal, “Turn around, face the mirror.”

I smirk. Yes, dino daddy.

Rolling over, I get my knees under me, and shuffle into position.

Rounding the end of the bed, Ripley appears behind me in the reflection. The image is clear and unobstructed now that the bed’s been brought closer.

His familiar touch grips my hips, yanking me back. The momentum topples my face into the sheet and Rip hums in approval as every intimate part of me is exposed.

In one savage thrust, he fills me, my shrill cry of pleasure smothered by the mattress. He drives deep, circling his hips as he holds me hostage against him.

The pads of his fingers press lightly on his freshly carved name in my flesh, awakening another sensation I can’t escape, nor do I want to.

Rip wraps the chains around his right fist, hauling me back onto his cock every time his hips punch forward. I’m helpless, a willing victim to the punishing pace he sets.

“Oh, fuck,” I murmur, face down in the plush memory foam.

“What was that, my stubborn little slut? You got something to say?”

Shit, I liked that.

My cunt tenses around him, a new wave of arousal crashing over me. “Mmmm,” I mumble unintelligibly, revelling in the pleasure threatening to drown me.

Ripley’s left hand cracks off my ass. My scream tears through the room as I slam back onto his length.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Give it to me,” Ripley snarls, slapping his skin against mine.

My chains clink as he gathers the extra links in his hands, leaning over me. “Look at me,” he breathes, voice strained. I know he’s close.

Shifting slightly, I turn to lock his gaze. Ripley places the chain over the front of my neck, a wary look in his eyes as he waits for a safeword that won’t come. I’m so down for whatever the fuck he’s picturing in this moment.

Taking the chain on either side of my throat in his grip, he rocks his hips, slowly picking up speed as he plays with my ability to breathe.

My gasping breaths spur him on as they are threaded through with my garbled moans of pleasure.

“Ripley! Please!” I cry, teetering on the edge of a euphoria he controls.

He hauls me back against his chest, hold still tight on my binding. With his free hand, he brushes the hair back from my face. “Let me see that pretty fucking face, flower. I want to watch you bloom for no one but me.”

I jerk a nod. “Yes,” I whisper, attempting to move but Rip doesn’t offer even an inch of wiggle room. I’m at his mercy.

“Watch,” he whispers against the shell of my ear as he cups my jaw, guiding me to face our reflection in the mirror.

His confident touch slides down between my breasts as I squirm on his cock.

Ripley’s hot mouth blazes a path of hungry kissing along my skin as his touch descends my abdomen to my swollen clit.

He circles slow, applying just the right amount of pressure as he sets a mind-scrambling rhythm.

I lose myself chasing the sensation, voice pitching like I’m being murdered by dick when my orgasm rips through me.

Riley drops the chain, arms coiling around me as he follows me off the ledge with a roar that echoes my name.