Page 31 of Their Dark Rose

My eyes roll in the back of my head from the impact my climax has on me. I drop the travel mug, biting the inside of my cheek, tasting the copper on my tongue.

Self-loathing creeps up on me. They were so cruel to me, and I’m here, rubbing one off.

As I stand up, fix myself, and head to my bathroom, I decide shame has no place here.

Mason, Falk, and Finn shamed me enough for the afternoon.

As much as it turned me on, I’ll die before I do it to myself.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The rest of the evening went by as uneventful as evenings in our household get.

We sat at the dining table, the four of us eating pizza. Pretending I hadn’t gone down on my knees for them. I sure as hell wasn’t bringing it up, so I nibbled on my slice and watched them talk work in a tone that betrayed nothing.

They talked about contracts. About the guy at city hall they had to pay off for a future project. About a bidding war they won fairly. About paying a visit to one of their contractors for overlooking a mistake that nearly cost someone’s life.

Everyday work stuff.

Without sparing me a glance.

The longer they droned on, the more frustrated I became. They were torturing me on purpose, I could tell. Because the sexual tension was present. Hot and crackling, and they were just ignoring the giant elephant in the room.

Me.

My need, and no doubt theirs.

I sat around them, my inner thighs wet, my stomach tangled in knots.

Despite myself, despite the fear I had of them, a part of me wanted more. Wanted them to show me that the scene in my room wasn’t meaningless to them.

They wouldn’t give it to me.

They humiliated me.

Showing me again how cruel they could be by talking over my head.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I excused myself. I didn’t walk to my room. I ran.

I’ve been holed in here ever since.

“Assholes,” I murmur to myself in bed. “Sexy, fucking assholes.”

I lie in bed, listening to the continuous pattering of the rain on my windows. The monotonous sound usually calms my nerves, and yet here I am, going nuts.

As much as they acted like nothing happened, I know it did. They forced me to my knees, here in this very room. They were cruel and gentle. They touched me.

And there they were, ignoring me. Making me believe I’m losing my mind.

I’m not crazy. I’m done thinking I’ve been imagining what’s blatantly there before my eyes.

“Fucking men,” I groan quietly so they won’t hear me.

For the hundredth time tonight, I pinch my eyes shut, thinking about the rain pouring outside. I’m counting each drop as it hits the glass. Tap, tap, tap.

Anything but them and the love I have for them. If I dwell another second on the hope that one day they’ll return to being the people the young me remembers and adores, I’ll never fall asleep.

I train my entire focus on the rain.

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