Page 51 of My Rose

“I am, aren’t I?” His hand rotated again, pulling my head back to look at him. “Tell me my hand is the only one you’ve fucked besides your own.” I nodded, but he tightened his hold on my hair and shook his head. “Stop avoiding the fucking words and use that beautiful mouth of yours, Rose. Tell me I’m the only one who has touched you like this.”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, you’re the only one that’s ever touched me.” His eyes flared, and then his lips were on mine, his tongue ebbing with each cry of pleasure. His fingers started moving again like the reward they were, my legs growing immensely weak under his touch.

“My Rose,” he whispered against my mouth. “You’re all mine, do you hear me?”

“Yes,” I breathed out. “God, yes.”

His hand released my hair and wrapped around my back, then went lower until his forearm rested at the base of my spine. Seconds later, my thigh was raised by his force, my back arching as it met with the wall of the shower. I whimpered again as I anchored my leg around his waist, his hard body pressing me deeper into the cold tile for more leverage, which only added to the insane amount of pleasure he was delivering elsewhere. I instinctively linked my hands behind his neck, trying to hold on as he continued to drive his fingers into me in a way that kept stealing my breath and thoughts.

“Fuck, your cunt is so perfect.” He was breathing just as hard as I was, the new angle of my legs allowing him to reach further inside me. “I want to hear you tell me exactly whose pussy this is.” His fingers kept working me in harsh thrusts as his arm moved to support more of my body, his hand firmly cupping my ass.

“Y-yours.”

“That’s it, baby girl. Mine.” He glanced between us at my breasts, where more water flowed over. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, but waiting for you will be worth it.” He released my leg toslap the side of my breast, and I whimpered more at the sensation, my nipples growing uncomfortably too tight as the weight of them swayed from his torment.

“Briggs, I’m close.” I let my head fall back against the tile, every nerve ending bursting at the seams.

“I know, Rose. Come for me. Come undone for the man that owns your perfect little cunt. Mark me as yours.” His tongue swept into my mouth the moment the pressure became too much. His thumb moved to flick, and my leg started to tremble. My explosion came hard and fast, his bruising fingers digging into the fleshy part of my ass while his eyes locked onto mine. I fell apart for him as he held me there, watching me come undone—all for him.

Chapter 20

Briggs

“I hate and I love. And if you ask me how, I do not know: I only feel it, and I am torn in two.” ? Catullus

“Ican just pick whatever I want?” I leaned against the doorway of my closet, watching as a beautiful, towel-covered Rose looked through my shirts.

“Whatever you want,” Ireiterated.

“Some of these look too expensive.” She pulled on the sleeve of one as it hung on the rack. “Like…really expensive. Is this cashmere?”

“Probably.” I shrugged, still staring at her ass, picturing her coming on my fingers again. I didn’t really want her to get dressed at all. But the moment I passed her the towel from the counter and grabbed one for myself, I realized why I was covering her body. I wanted to know her, and not just the ways I believed I knew her. I wanted to know it all. And if she didn’t get dressed, I wouldn’t be able to focus on that.

By the time I snapped out of my thoughts, she was buttoning a blue shirt from the bottom up, still wearing the towel underneath like I hadn’t just seen her naked and felt her perfect pussy clenching around my fingers.

“This one is comfortable.” She shimmied her shoulders and started adjusting the sleeves. I liked that she still left a few buttons undone—it was enough to show the way I marked her as mine, yet also gave me a great view of her perky breasts. “What about pants?”

“Don’t need them,” I replied without hesitation, making a blush spread on her perfectly angled cheeks. God, what part of this woman wasn’t utter perfection? That’s what I needed to know. I needed to right the thoughts in my head and know there was an ending to this maddening sensation coursing through me. Yet, even as the idea formed in my mind, I knew it was wrong. I never wanted to let her go. I wanted to keep her all for myself like she should have been all this time.

“Underwear?” Her voice was low with her question. I just stared back at her, letting my eyes dance over her exposed legs.

“Don’t need those, either.”

“Briggs, I can’t just be naked in your house.” Her eyes darted around the closet and then landed back on me. “Are you going to change? You’re dripping everywhere.”Not like you just were minutes ago, baby girl.

I cleared my throat. “I’ll change. And you’re not naked. You look too clothed, in my opinion.” As much as I wanted to know about her, I couldn’t stop my cock from twitching at the idea that one word from me for her to undress, and she’d probably do it. Instead of opening my mouth, I reached up and pulled my shirt off, then went for my pants. She started to squeeze her eyes shut, and I laughed. “Relax, Rose. It’s just a body. Don’t you see them in your studies?”

She opened one eye, then popped the other open as I finished fastening the towel around my naked hips. “I…yeah. I guess I do.”

“Tell me about that. What made you want to study art history?”

Her brows scrunched together like she’d never been asked that before. My jaw tightened at the thought. “When my grandparents took me in, I didn’t talk a lot.”A lotwas modest. She didn’t talk at all—too traumatized to voice the thoughts that came into her pretty head. She looked down at her feet, her toes flexing against the flooring.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Though I really wanted to know. She paused longer, bringing her head up to look me over.

---