Page 59 of Wallflower

With my eyes locked on hers, I cup her breast. Dipping my head down, I seal my mouth around her nipple. My tongue swirls, working it into a stiff peak I can abuse until she’s writhing.

“Spank me again,” she pleads.

My hand glides up her thigh, rounding over the curve of her ass before cracking off the tender skin.

Rose pulls her leg up over my hip, surprising me. Never have I ever let someone lead an encounter. Her grip in my hair tugs me back up her body. “Again,” she pants, gazing far too deep into the chasm of my soul, looking for what resides there.

Nothing, flower. That part of me was scraped bare a long time ago.

My hand leaves her skin, rising up, prepping to come down hard and fast.

Her lips slam onto mine, freezing me in place. Memories grasp for me like claws, greedy to sink their sharpness deep and drag me close. I do not kiss. I taunt and tease, make my partnersache until they cry from frustration, but never deliver. Shantel’s begged years for my kiss, all that gets her is face down and gagged.

Now, Rose is taking what I’ve withheld from everyone since I was a teenager.

The panic from the past works its way up my chest, torturously asphyxiating me.

Her tongue skims across the seam of my lips, cracking the shell of the statue I became. Reality bleeds back in, the room of my youth vanishing from my sights.

Tentatively, I nip at it. Giving in to her needs can only further my scheme. It’s worth it, I decide. No matter the cost it has on my psyche, watching her become dust before me will wash away all the horrors her kiss dredges up.

I let Rose’s curving smile pull me in as I bring my palm down hard. Her resounding cry spikes my adrenaline, goosebumps erupting down my spine.

Her hand trails down my neck and across my chest, tracing through my tattoo and over the scar. “An answer for an answer,” she says, eyes flicking from my near life-ending wounds to my own lust-soaked gaze.

“I got shot.”

“You probably deserved it,” she says, biting back a smile.

My hand wraps around her throat, throwing her back onto the mattress. I pin her body beneath mine. “Enough of that smart mouth,” I growl, rolling my hips.

My hardness presses into her naked clit and her eyes roll back. “Make me feel good. Please. I want to feel good.”

“Enough demands.”

Rose parts her legs, wrapping them around me, coaxing me closer. “Make me feel good, Mr. Morgan,” she says through a sly smirk, forever pushing my boundaries.

With my name coming off her lips, I launch myself at her.

The kiss shocks her.

Fuck, it shocks me.

She’s pulling me to her like gravity, eclipsing everything I’ve ever known with this new temptation.

My kiss is starved.

Violent.

Fucking needy.

What has she stirred within the pit of my smothered emotions?

Her nails drag up my spine as she whimpers beneath me, riding the onslaught of my desperation, never faltering. Shit, she even has the nerve to bite back after I drag her bottom lip between my teeth.

“What do you want?” I pant, hating every second that my lips aren’t glued to hers.

“This,” she replies, pulling me in once more. She writhes her body against mine, the little sounds coming off her driving me fucking crazy.