Page 22 of Lost Petal

“Then what?” she utters. “What will I have to do to get out of here?”

She lifts her gaze up to mine, worry and dismay lacing her features as she looks at me. My good little Petal. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when I tell her what she’ll have to do to meet her part of the deal.

She inhales audibly when I place my hand on her shoulder, slowly traveling down the side of her arm, my fingertips barely caressing her pale skin. Her body spasms in small shivers as I make my way down to her elbow, her wrist, her hand, her delicate fingers. It takes everything from me to contain my excitement for her, to silence those greedy screams deep within my chest.

I want her so badly. I want to do unspeakable things to her. I want to hurt her. I want to own her. I want her to call out my name when she explodes in climax after climax, losing all control as she’s overcome with gasps of pleasure that know no equal.

Fuck.

Even this whisper of a touch is enough to call my cock to attention. Blood is rushing into places where I have no use for it right now. I’m not sure if she can tell, but I wouldn’t care if she did.

I should retreat. I should stop touching her. It’s obvious that even this hint of warmth radiating from her fair skin is driving me mad with desire. I should stop it while I can.

But the allure of her is too strong. I know I have the power to restrain myself. I’ve done it before, and I’ve done it with her when I brought her down here, carrying her limp body in my arms with nothing but the barely-there white gown protecting her. I was strong then, and I can be strong now.

Still, my hand wanders further, finding the soft skin on her upper thigh as I move the hem of her gown upward.

She gasps, only adding to my arousal.

Fuck this.

I know what my Petal has to do for me if she wants her desired treat.

“It’s simple, really,” I say, enunciating every syllable. “I only want one thing from you, Petal. One small deed, and I promise I will let you out of this cell.”

She swallows dryly, curling her little hands into fists while her eyes are glued to my hand on her thigh.

“What?” she asks. “What do I have to do?”

I take a deep breath before I manage to finally withdraw my hand from her seductive body. Instant relief washes over me, accompanied by a sense of loss. There’s nothing I want more than to touch her right now, but resisting that urge is the most important thing if I don’t want to ruin this.

My Petal needs to be trained, to be shaped according to my wishes. Only then will she become everything I want her to be.

“What do I have to do?”

She’s looking at me now, her eyes narrowed with tense determination as she expects a response from me. In a way, it’s the first time she’s actively asking for her next task, though she may not realize that yet.

She expects a command. She expects to know what it is that she can do to please me.

I’m more than happy to tell her.

“I want you to come for me, Petal.”

---