Page 13 of Fallen Petal

Chapter 6

J

“More! More!”

There was a point when her voice hardly sounded human anymore. Rather, it resembled a carnal outcry, like you’d expect from a coyote out in the wild. It egged me on, turning the tables in the way that I was no longer the one pushing her, but it was the other way around.

“More! I need more!”

The cane left its mark on her delicate skin, and the sight of the deep red stripes on her behind drove spurred me on even more, leaving no room for restraint or concern for sanity, neither hers nor mine.

But now my mind is clearing as the fog of lust slowly dissolves. I remain motionless, frozen to a pillar of salt with my cock still buried inside her while my heart races as if in the midst of a marathon.

Years I’ve been waiting for this moment. So many years.

And now that I’m here, finally having her the way I’ve wanted for so long, I’m not elated in the way I expected.

I’m torn. Torn between two emotions that couldn’t be further apart from each other. There’s bliss and delight, a feeling of accomplishment and a happiness I haven’t known before—but it’s spoiled by something. There’s something dark lurking between us, joining us when we’d rather be alone.

Does she feel it, too?

I lean forward, still buried inside her as I hover over her back, holding her by the shoulders as I plant a kiss on the side of her sweaty cheek. She’s trembling beneath me, probably still recovering from her high. Squirming, she repositions herself, pressing her broken skin against my body.

“More.”

It’s a hoarse croak, not shrill like her shrieks were before, but equally foreign to my ears. She doesn’t sound like my Petal, the beautiful girl who has governed my heart for the past ten years. Petal’s voice is deep for a woman of her stature, but it’s soft and calm, and uniquely hers.

“I want... more.”

She throws her head back while moving back into me, her eyes wide open as she stares up against the wall in front of us. As unsettling as the sound of her voice may be, the look on her face right now is downright terrifying.

She growls angrily when I straighten up, removing myself from her before I hurry to unclasp the shackles around her wrists. For a moment, it appears as if she wants to fight me on it, her thin fingers digging into the leather as she holds on to the bench when I attempt to lift her up in my arms.

“Petal!”

She jerks at the volume of my voice, rounding her back and lowering her head, her long hair trailing down on each side and shielding her from my sight. I wait another moment, observing her tense body as she refuses to let go of the bench.

“Don’t stop,” she breathes, her voice muffled as she pushes her face down on the leather. Her tone has changed again. It’s no longer that awful squawk she used as she voiced her demands, but turned soft and so thin that it was almost impossible to understand.

“Please, don’t stop,” she repeats, whimpering as she finally allows me to gather her up in my arms. She feels as small and weak as she sounds, weighing next to nothing in my embrace as I carry her over to the other room.

A disappointed sigh flees her lips, but she’s too exhausted to fight me. My pulse speeds when she nestles against my chest, honoring me by seeking comfort in my embrace.

I wonder if she’ll ever know how. If she’ll ever know how long I’ve waited to be allowed to give her this, all of this. The pain, the ecstasy, the solace.

“Stand,” I whisper as we’ve reached the bathroom. She looks up at me, appearing confused and still a little out of it, but not nearly as befogged as just moments ago.

Her legs are trembling and I don’t trust her stance at first, but let go of her nonetheless once her feet are securely placed on the soft mat before her bathtub.

“Turn around.”

She obliges without hesitation, presenting her bruised behind to me. The cane cut deeper into her flesh than I meant it to, even breaking her skin in several places and drawing tiny droplets of blood. The small cuts will heal fast, but the bruises that come with it will last for days. I can already see them blossom on her ass cheeks and upper thighs, painting red and violet shadows in a random pattern across her light skin.

“Are you in pain?”

She turns around to me, shaking her head. “Not anymore.”

She almost sounds disappointed, and the look on her face underpins that impression. Long strands of hair are sticking to her temples, her blushed face covered in a salty crust of tears and sweat. It’s the first time she’s standing before me completely naked, and she’s not trying to hide herself from me. Her arms are hanging idly at the sides of her body, and her green eyes latch on to mine, lacking the haziness of before. She doesn’t look scared, not even intimidated. If anything, there’s defiance in her expression.

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