Nikolai
My Rose is one hell of a fast learner. That blowjob was even better than her first, though that first one I hold close to what constitutes a heart in my chest. The first one was special. She didn’t know what to do, not really, but she did it anyway and now? Fuck. Fuck, I could barely keep myself from coming the moment those soft, plump lips closed around me, or when I hit the back of her throat.
It was a palate cleanser-going down on her, eating out her fucking hot little cunt, then face fucking her-one I needed after the day I had.
Her father called to crow about Sylvie. I pointed out that, in this little game, I have the upper hand, and that I’ll be in touch. My meaning was clear: hurt my serving girl, your daughter will be returned in pieces.
Finnegan won’t kill the girl, but he’ll fuck her up, I know. He’ll fuck her, whether Sylvie wants him to or not. It’s unfortunate. Sickening. He doesn’t seduce; he destroys in the worst way. It’s no wonder Steph ran. No wonder she turned and got so many of us caught in the machine.
I would go in and take Sylvie back, but this is a little test, a little game, one Finnegan’s not going to drag me into.
Still, things will need to change.
Just a little.
Fine-tuning is what you’d fucking call it. My Rose? Collateral, unless I find another way, but no, that’s just lust and useless feelings I don’t want talking. Rose is here for a reason. My revenge, that’s it. I haven’t set up the meeting yet. I said a few days and Finnegan has to sweat it out.
Sighing, I check my suit, then pick up the package I have, along with the fresh flower. Mia hired Sylvie specifically for Rose’s comfort. Since she’s gone, Mia’s fed Rose today, then fed me her quiet wrath over something I had no control over. Let Tony sort his fucking wife out. I have things to do.
Mind you, some of that wrath might be over what I’ve asked her to do tonight, serve dinner and set up my room. She’s a hard woman, seen it all, so how or why she’s feeling soft over Rosalind’s a mystery, but that’s not my problem. I don’t care what she thinks, as long as she does her job.
With everything set in motion, I knock on Rose’s door and step in without waiting. It’s unlocked all the time now. She’s not going to try and run.
“Nikolai!”
I almost want to smile at the sweet excitement in her voice, but instead, I just lift the corner of my mouth. She sees it and lights up. My guts twist. Fuck, this girl is dangerous.
I set down the box and place the rose on top. Rose swoops down and plucks it up, burying her nose in the petals.
“And here I thought you hated roses.”
The look she gives me is slightly dirty, annoyed, before she schools it.
“I guess they’re okay, and this is a pretty pink.”
I roll my eyes. “God forbid.”
She scoffs, something I don’t hear from her often. “Was that you mocking me?”
It most definitely was, and her gaze slides slow over me in my suit. The shirt’s cream, the suit the darkest, blackest brown. Handmade. New. Her hunger and delight tell me she likes what she sees.
“Put on your collar and the dress,” I order.
She set the rose on her bed and opens the box, gasping when she sees what’s inside. “It’s beautiful.”
It’s silk, full skirt, off the shoulder, pretty roses on a cream background.
“And the heels,” I tell her.
They’re in the same box, creamy leather strappy heels. No underwear. It’s a different look from what I usually pick, but this is romantic, and I instinctively know it’s right up her ally.
The way she glows says I’m right.
Rose is so used to being naked around me, she simply slips off my shirt… she’s wearing it again, but it’ll be the last time. It’ll be gone when she gets back, but she doesn’t know that. She pulls on the dress without even thinking.
I fucking love it.
She really is mine.
I have her wanting to be touched, begging for me. I have her willing to be naked at all times. The slip is in here somewhere, but she keeps putting on the ruined shirt, which tells me everything.
It’s so fucking hot, and weirdly sweet.
I help her with the collar. She doesn’t need it, but there’s something about putting it on that nails in that claim on her just a little more. That I own her is our silent exchange. I own her and she wants me to. Yeah, I’m fucking aware she doesn’t have a choice in the actual act, but she isn’t hesitant, she isn’t stiff, she’s… eager.
She’s terrible as a submissive; my Rose keeps slipping, but she likes the role, likes giving to me. She touches the collar with eager fingers, and she leans back into me with a sigh when I give the chain a slight tug.
“Rose?”
She turns, deliberately brushing against me. “Yes?”
“I have something else for you.”
“If it’s a muzzle, I don’t think it’ll go with the dress.”
I stare at her and laugh. Fuck. I mean, I should spank the shit out of her, finger fuck her hard and fast, maybe delve into her ass like I want, using my thumb so I can double penetrate her while I spank her until she comes, until she can’t sit for a week without a twinge, without the memory roaring to life.
I should, but I don’t.
It was funny and there’s something intimate and giving in letting her speak her mind.
I never want to hand her to her sick fuck of a father, but right now, I push all that away and pull the bracelet from my pocket.
“I’ll keep the muzzle for when I dress you in latex and plug your ass with a tail.” Her eyes go wide. There’s fear, shock and… curiosity. Lust? My cock throbs. Hell the fuck yes, there’s lust. “For now, I have this. Hold out your wrist.”
It doesn’t go with the collar, not really. The collar needs something just as heavy and ostentatious. No, this is for her: a pretty, delicate chain with pink diamonds.
She lifts her arm, the white gold perfect against her pale honey skin. “It’s beautiful, Nikolai. I…” She looks at me and fuck, her eyes are bright and glistening, like she wants to cry. “No one’s ever given me something like this.”
Then she blinks hard and rapid and bites her unpainted, rose-red lips. She really doesn’t need makeup, but I like her both ways. A different Rose for different occasions.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean… I know…”
“It is yours, Rose. To keep, or throw away, if you want, but it’s yours.” I hold out my arm. “Come on. We’re going to dinner.”
There’s a flash of disappointment there that she tries to hide, but she takes my arm and smiles as I kiss her cheek. I don’t question it, and it fits tonight’s narrative.
I take her to the dining room and her steps bounce, her fingers tightening as she takes in the soft classical music, the candles, the rose petals, the intimate table setting, just for two.
Rose turns. “For me?”
“For you. The other night was… a revelation. I want this to be for us. No audience, just you and me.”
I pull out her chair and she looks at me, eyes shining, cheeks flushed as she smiles. She slides her hands over my lapel and I let her. Rose grows bolder and rises up to kiss me.
It’s soft and sweet and hesitant, and I kiss her back, our tongues meeting in a slow, soul melting kiss. I pull back, taking her hands in mine. “Sit.”
She does and she’s so charmed, delighted, seduced. It’s perfect, and she’s exactly where I want her: under my spell.
“This is amazing,” she says, looking over everything Mia brings out.
I chuckle. “You eat like you’re starving.”
Her eyes narrow, but there’s a smile. “I’m your prisoner. Maybe you need to feed me more.”
This time, the defiance shines through with a soft edge, and she sets her hand on my thigh, squeezing before suddenly pulling back.
“Saucy. Is this your way of asking for punishment?” I pick up a cracker and feed it to her, finding her fun when she’s skating the edge.
“Not feeding me lunch is punishment.” “I rewarded you,” I say.
“And dinner?” She leans in, looking up at me. “More dessert.”
I kiss her. “That was yesterday, Rose. You had food. After. In your room.”
She gives me a look that can only be described as saucy as she licks her lips. “I want more.”
“That can be arranged.”
“Tease.”
I laugh; it’s hilarious that she’s calling me a tease. I guess I am, but fuck, so is she. It’s all kettles calling pots black right now.
Mia comes in with dinner. It’s succulent roasted pork with potatoes, beans, and purple broccolini, topped with a calvados sauce enriched with cream. It’s one of my favorites, but I think Rose might like it. She loved the hot pork sandwiches she had for lunch once. I assume my guess is right when her mouth curves wickedly.
Damn, my cock hurts from wanting her.
“Trying to tell me something here?”
I furrow my brows. “What do you mean?”
“The pork. The euphemism.” She slides me a glance. “Hot. Pork. Injection.”