Page 102 of The Rogue and His Flower

My breath catches, my fucking heart squeezes painfully. How? How can she see something that simply isn’t there? I’m not someone deserving of anything beautiful, least of all her.

“And yet all I can think of right now is taking you against this wall and fucking you. I don’t feel anything other than the desire to sink my cock inside of you, to feel your pussy clench me tight, and to come so hard that I’m lost to the physical sensation. Love has nothing to do with it,” I say, refusing to listen to that nagging voice deep inside that is quietly calling me a fucking liar.

“I see,” she whispers, her hand falling away, disappointment flickering in her gaze.

“Daisy, I told you about my failings, and you accepted them,” I say, scrambling to regain control of the situation.

She nods. “You’re right. I did…”

“But?” I ask, crowding her in as she tries to step out of my hold.

“There’s nothing more I want to say. Perhaps we should go?”

“I don’t want to go. I want to fuck you.”

“And what if I don’t want to have sex? What then, Dalton? Are you that heartless that you could take something from me that I’m not willing to give right now?”

“Of course not!” I exclaim.

“Then let me go.”

“You’re angry,” I accuse.

“A little, yes.”

“Because I told you the truth?”

“No, because your inability to look inside of yourself is only hurting you. Don’t you see that? At the very least you should loveyourself.”

“You’ve already told me on many occasions that I do that already,” I counter darkly.

“And I’m sorry for that, truly. That was cruel. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean accepting yourself, embracing your flaws, making peace with them. Perhaps once you do, you’ll be open enough to let love in, to love someone else.”

“I know who I am, Daisy, and I know who I’m not. More importantly, I know my limitations,” I reply tightly.

“And that’s the issue right there,” she sighs, her eyes pleading with me to see the truth. “You’re so focused on your perceived limitations, that you’re missing out on the person youcouldbe. You have so much wasted potential.”

“I already have everything I need, Daisy. There is no wasted potential.”

“On the surface, yes. You live in a beautiful home, you have a wonderful lifestyle, and all the material things. But what about your happiness? What about that?”

“Iamhappy,” I say a little too forcefully.

“No, all I see is a man holding himself back out of fear, and for what exactly? To live the rest of your days in a mansion filledwith things, to surround yourself with piles of money? That’s a very lonely life, Dalton. At the end of the day, when all is said and done, nothing is more important than love. It’s the only thing worth living for.”

With that, she ducks out of my arms and strides away, once again leaving me fucking reeling.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

DAISY

I’m here again, in this nightmare, my adult self watching the memory as it unravels before me. Both a part of it, and separate. Before me a tiny child who’s never known love, doesn’t yet know the healing warmth of being loved, is curled up in a tight ball, her tiny hands pressed over her ears as she tries desperately to drown out the hateful words cascading over her.

I feel every one of them. I remember the pain they caused, they still cause, and I wish… Oh, how I wish I could tell her that it won’t be much longer, that very soon she’ll be free.

I wish I could wrap myself around her, protect her from the abuse, but I can’t. All I can do is watch, a silent witness to my past, forever a part of it, always haunted by it.

Never, ever, free from it.

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