Page 95 of Uprising

“What does that mean?” I ask.

He grins leaning back into the seat more. “Prove it now. Take off that dress, fuck me like you love me. Come on my cock like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.”

My heart hammers in my chest. My stomach twists.

I can’t deny him. I have to do this. To play this game better than I have before, better than I’ve done my entire life. I nod sinking to my knees before him because the roof of the car feels far too close to my head.

I slide my dress off, keeping my eyes on my movements and not the man in front of me and then I’m reaching up, undoing his tie first, then easing his suit jacket from his shoulders. He sits there, so fucking smug as I do it, as I undo each button, as I reveal his chest, as I undo his belt and free his cock.

He grabs my face, shoving it into where he’s already so hard he’s practically throbbing. I run my tongue along him, playing the obedient whore and he groans.

“There’s a good slut.”

I look up at him, take him into my mouth and suck like I want him, like I enjoy him.

He groans harder, clearly enjoying the show before he pulls me up and all but rips my thong from my body. “Ride my cock Rose.” He says.

I sink onto him, at least my saliva has lubricated his cock, so it’s not as brutal as normal. He pushes me back so that he’s got a good view of where he’s penetrating me and I do it, I fuck him, just as he asked. I act like this is a thing of love. I act like I want him. Only I won’t pretend this is Roman, I won’t sully any last remnants of those precious moments by doing that.

He thrusts into me, gripping my hips, driving his own pleasure.

And then I commit the worst betrayal yet. I put my fingers on myself. I touch myself as he watches, and I make myself come.

I make myself give in entirely.

Feeling the twist of the knife, feeling my last bit of who I was severing as I do.

He holds me to him, he groans as my body clenches so hard around him.

“Fuck.” He gasps. “You feel so good, so fucking good.”

I don’t reply, I just continue the pretence, continue the moans, as he pumps into me and then he’s pulling my face to look at him and he’s smiling like he really has won the world. Like someone’s handed him the keys to the world.

I stare back, I can feel my cheeks flushed, I can feel my shame sinking in deeper than before but I don’t show it. I just meet his gaze as it feels like my heart freezes over forever.

They turned me into a whore, they made me this, and now that I’ve accepted that there’s no pieces left of me to take, I’m turning the tables.

And that’s how I’ll get my revenge.

That’s how I’ll beat him. I’m going to pull the very rug out from beneath his feet. I’m going to slip a knife into his chest right when he’s least expecting it.

Rose

Ithink he’s starting to buy it.

He certainly seems more relaxed in my presence.

And it’s been days since he’s hurt me, days since I’ve felt his hands on me as a form of punishment.

But the news alert did cause some shit. Especially after what’s been going on in the streets. He and Carter spent the rest of the day and half the night trying to figure out who was behind it and how to counteract it.

This entire week he’s been there, locked in his office, working later than usual and while I relish the freedom from him, hiding in this room won’t get me any closer to escaping it forever.

So I wait until I hear Carter leave and then I slip down, into the main house, tapping lightly on his door before I open it.

He looks up, his eyes devouring me as I step into the light.

“You’ve not come to bed.” I say.

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