Page 40 of Lost Petal

Chapter 23

J

She tried to fight me when I scooped her up in my arms, but gave up right away when I gave her a warning look. She’s in trouble as it is, and she knows it.

Tightening her grip on the towel that’s wrapped around her naked body, she lets me carry her over to the bedroom, responding with a faint mewl when I throw her on the big canopy bed. Even as she flies through the air, she’s trying to hold on to the towel, eager to protect her pristine body against my curious eyes.

It’s cute, but so futile.

“I think you’re dry enough. Give me the towel,” I order, holding my hand out in a demanding gesture.

She frowns at me, doing the exact opposite as she tightens the towel around her body. Her head moves in a subtle shake, telling me no.

“You don’t have a choice, Petal,” I insist. “You either give it to me voluntarily, or I’ll take it from you with force.”

Her face twitches and she presses her lips together as if to stop herself from speaking. But she doesn’t move, giving no indication that she plans to comply with my order.

“Fine.”

She tries to get away from me, moving way too slowly and not standing a chance against my will. I’m on top of her within an instant, yanking the towel out of her grip and pinning her naked body down beneath mine as I position myself on all fours on top of her, getting ahold of her wrists and pushing her hands down next to her face while hooking my feet around her legs.

She stares up at me, her green eyes wide in surprise and anticipation. Fear is a frequent visitor in her gaze when she peers up at me, but it’s not present now.

“Don’t test me, Petal,” I hiss, moving my face so close to hers that our noses are almost touching. Having her this close to me is playing havoc with my sanity, and the fact that she’s naked and wet, emitting a blend of lavender and her own scent only makes matters worse. I’m rock-hard in an instant, and I don’t even try to hide it.

My cock caresses the inner side of her upper thigh, so close, yet so far. I moan as I throw her an ominous smile, while her eyes grow even wider. But still, there’s no fear in her look.

“Who is the girl?” she blurts out, catching me off guard with her question. “The one who brings me food. She knows me, but I can’t remember her.”

I sigh, trying to keep myself in check. There’s a voice inside my head, calling, screaming for me to get rid of those damn pants and bury myself between her legs already. I feel like I’m about to explode with desire, and I’m sure if I were to do as the devilish voice asks me to, I’d ravage her like there’s no tomorrow. I’d make her scream and cry beneath me, unable to defend herself against my intrusion, and it would only egg me on.

I’d finally take from her what I’ve been wanting for more than ten years.

And I’d lose her forever.

I’d lose her trust, I’d lose the right to any kind of ownership. I would no longer be able to mold her, to help her become the person she needs to be. I could only watch as she slowly dies like a petal lost in the wind after it’s been shed from the blossom.

I would have to watch her wilt once again.

My body moves on command, removing myself from her to get rid of the friction against her enticing leg, so close to her bare entrance. She did that. She got herself waxed before she ended up in my hands, leaving herself constantly exposed in front of me, her alluring core tucked away behind pink lips that call for my tongue’s touch.

“Who is she?”

She penetrates me with those green eyes, curiosity and impatience flickering in them as she awaits my response.

“A friend,” I say, knowing that it won’t suffice as a reply to her inquiry.

“Mine or yours?” she probes.

“Yours.”

Our eyes lock in an intense stare, both of us waiting for the other to speak. She’s always been like that: cautious, quiet, never wasting a word. It’s funny how traits like that never really disappear, even when a person gets erased entirely.

In this moment, it proves to be convenient, because she’s giving me room to take over and decide the course of our conversation.

“Now, here’s a question for you, Petal,” I say in a low voice. “Why weren’t you on your knees like you’re supposed to when I walked into the room?”

“I told you, I didn’t hear you,” she responds, always the smart-ass.

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