Page 154 of Petite Fleur

Has he always had that, or is it my copy?

You know what? I don't want to know.

Walking into this apartment feels weird.

Everything looks and feels the same, everything besides me.

This place feels foreign to me now; it feels wrong.

It feels like it's supposed to be home, but it isn't.

I hate it.

“What now?” I ask nervously.

Leon walks over to the couch and sits down like he owns the place, even kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “We wait.” He says calmly as he pats the empty spot beside him.

As soon as I join him on the couch, my eyes feel heavy, but my mind is a clouded mess, and my heart is pounding.

I hate this feeling, but I bask in Leon's warmth as he pulls me to lean against him and bands his arms around me.

A comfortable silence lingers over us; it's not awkward, it’s just nice.

I don’t need him asking me how I’m feeling right now. I don’t want him reminding me of my situation, the situation that he put me in.

I like that he’s checking in to see how I’m feeling, but I don’t like that I don’t have an answer for him, so it’s nice that we’re just sitting here together.

He kisses my temple a few times, probably sensing that I'm fighting off sleep, and startles me awake. “You okay, ma fleur?” He asks quietly. His hands rub along my spine while I bask in his warmth and the safety of his arms.

I nod, tucking my face into his neck. “Just a little tired.” I answer.

I feel his hands trail down my spine until he's gripping my butt with both hands. “You can either take a nap until they get home, or I can do something to wake you up?” He asks.

I grin, already feeling heat and need course through my body, and sit up, putting my hands on his shoulders. “Hurt me.” I beg.

I'm so horny that it's insane, and I can't get the thought of him duct taping me and doing whatever he wants out of my head.

I know we have to avoid a lot of things now that I'm pregnant, but I'm sure he can do something to me.

He rubs his hands along my ribs, staring up at me in his lap for a moment. “Are you sure? You can just rest, and I'll hold you.” He insists.

I never thought he'd be the one turning me down, but I need this.

I need the distraction.

“Please. Hurt me.” I beg again.

With a wicked grin, he wraps a hand around my throat, squeezing the sides until stars blur my vision, and all I can focus on is the darkness in his eyes. “Bend over the coffee table.” He demands.

I'm almost immediately soaked by the way he talks to me.

My legs feel like jelly as I stand up and turn my back to Leon, and he harshly smacks my butt. “Faster.” He demands.

Part of me wants to challenge him; the other part wants to do everything he says.

I want to please him and hear him call me his good girl.

As soon as I'm bent over the coffee table, my butt in the air and my chest pressed into the cold wood, Leon yanks my pants down. He pushes my legs together, stretching my legs straight out until he can put my feet under the couch, and I feel the weight of the couch holding me in place.

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