Page 105 of Wallflower

“She was my wife!” he snaps. “My boys!” Patrick wails, flicking his sights between the bodies, and I know the silencer on my pistol was pointless because he’s about to rouse all the neighbours.

“They sold your daughters into slavery,” I growl, the burning in my core returning, coiling tighter than ever before.

“But you know where they are. You can save them, bring them home. I could’ve fixed this!” He whirls on me, tear-heavy eyes full of far too much emotion for someone so shallow.

“Yes, I could have,” I gently reply, “but I won’t.”

“What? No. Stop.” Patrick pleads as I raise my gun on him, narrowing my sights. “Just…wait. Is she safe? Rose. Do you have her? Tell me you can fix this. Please, tell me you’ll save them. If I have to die, let me die knowing.“

“No.”

“Let me have peace,” he begs.

“You don’t deserve peace.”

Then I pull the fucking trigger.

“Oh, fuck, Rose. That’s it, baby.” My hips jerk involuntarily as I fight to stay still. However, my flower has the mouth of a succubus, making it near impossible to lie here and take it as she swirls her tongue around the tip of my dick.

I pull at my restraints, rope rubbing my wrists raw, bed posts groaning from my strength. “Flower, please.”

She looks up at me, dragging her tongue along the underside of my cock. “What’s the matter, Ripley?”

“I need you.” My breaths are harsh, chest heaving. I don’t know how long she’s been tasting me, but she’s dancing the line between torture and euphoria.

“You have me.”

“It’s not enough. I want more.”

“So greedy,” she taunts coyly, finally pulling off her baggy band t-shirt.

“More.” My voice is a deep and demanding growl. If I’m going to beg, I’ll do it like a man.

“Tell me what you want, Ripley, and maybe you’ll get lucky.”

“Slide that perfect cunt down my cock and ride me.”

She hums, thinking it over. Spitting down onto my aching erection, she strokes me slow. “Are you sure? There’s so many other things I could do for you when you’re at my mercy.”

“You better stop teasing me, baby.“

“Or what? What will you do? You’re trussed up like my own personal toy. So I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want, and you’re going to lie there andtake it.”

“Fuuuuck…” I groan, the sound morphing into a tortured moan as she takes my cock into her mouth, sucking me slow, deep. My eyes roll back as I fight the release clawing to break free. “Rose, shit,” I pant, feeling her smile around my cock.

“Want some help?”

The scene before me melts away, cold sweeping across my heated skin. My brain is fuzzy, reality warped, as I cling to the tendrils of my dream.

Warm hands run up my calves, the mattress at the foot of the bed shifting as a body crawls upon it.

“I’ve missed you, Rip. Let me help.”

Shantel’s lusty voice floats through the darkness and I bolt upright, pulling the blankets around me. I’m immediately pissed she’s somehow gotten into my hotel room without a key, again. Not to mention, she’s sitting there watching me sleep, while I enter a new realm of pleasure inside Rose’s throat.

“What are you doing in here?” I snap, so far beyond irate that she’s ripped me from the paradise I found within my subconscious.

“I came to check on you.”