Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“Mine,” he growled the first time. “You’re mine.”
Since then, it had been his mantra, his chorus. Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel the weight of his words reverberating through my body. His. I was his. I never wanted to belong to anyone else.
He left me to my own devices for months, left me to practice with Amber and fucked me in the middle of the night like I was his dirty little secret.
Tonight seemed different for some reason.
I’d kept my eyes open the entire time he was inside me, and he’d growled his words of ownership at me too many times to count. I could feel his cock inside me, his veins throbbing with the need to empty. My hands touched his chest, dragging my claw-like long nails - he liked them, so of course, I had them done weekly - all over his skin. He growled at the sensation, his body so painfully rigid I wanted to break him for once.
“Let go,” I told him huskily. “Just let the fuck go.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growled at me. “Shut the fuck up, Rose.”
At the end of the day, we were strangers. Strangers who had dirty as fuck sex and only spoke to one another in hushed, angry tones when we were fucking. Other than that, he kept his distance, and I pretended to be grateful for it when I was actually stewing in anger.
I didn’t want Thorn to leave me alone.
I wanted him to dig deeper, to find out what made me tick, to be desperate to know every little one of my secrets.
He owed it to me, at the very least, after what he’d done to me. Yet he didn’t seem to be in a rush to find out more, and I desperately wanted to hate him for it.
“Let go,” I insisted. “You’re so fucking… rigid. You’re holding back. I know you are!”
He grunted and followed each of his words with a thrust of his hips.
“You. Don’t. Know. Shit!”
He was getting closer, closer to breaking me like I wanted to be broken, closer to hurting me like I needed to be hurt. And I couldn’t wait for him to reach the point of no return.
“Let go!” I screamed at him, my nails digging into his skin. “Let go! I want it all. I want everything you have to give.”
He wrapped his fist around my hair, yanking me up, his cock sliding out of me and leaving me so empty I wanted to sob. He forced me to my feet and walked me over to the wall, and I seethed at the thought of him finishing anywhere but on or inside me.
“Please,” I whispered. “I’m just trying to…”
“I don’t fucking care,” he growled in response, kicking my knees apart and making me face the wall.
Automatically, I crossed my hands at the wrists behind my back, and I wondered why I was hoping he would break me when it was so painfully obvious he already had in more ways than I could count. But I needed… craved… so much more. I wanted him forcing me to my knees, hurting me, showing me what real pain felt like so he could make it better later on. I wanted all of him, just like he had all of me, but my wish would never come true unless he stopped holding back.
“See what a good girl you are?” he asked me, his voice a low whisper against my skin.
“Please,” I uttered, but he paid it no mind, instead, focusing on lowering his lips against my hot skin, kissing a gentle line down from where my hair met my neck to my shoulder blades.
“You need to learn how to be a good girl,” he said softly. “Only then will I allow you to have small mercies… you understand that, don’t you, Rose?”
My skin prickled when he called me that. I loved it as much as I hated it, the way he’d stripped me of my own name, feeling too easy as if he’d meant to do it all along. Pia had been right the first time she came to visit me. I was no longer Harlow; now I was Rose, finally transitioning fully into my role of Thorn’s plaything. I would let him mold and shape me into the toy he wanted me to be, and I would do my best to quell my own complaints as he did it. I craved him. His touch, his gentle caresses, his crude words and his roughness - I lived for it all.
He wrapped my hair around his fist again and tugged on it hard. I let out a soft little gasp that made him chuckle.
“Don’t pretend you don’t live for this,” he said darkly. “We both know these moments are your favorite.”