Twelve of Roses: A Dark Standalone

by Natalie Bennett

  Con’s masculine, woodsy scent filtered out of the room and straight into my lungs. He wasn’t wearing anything but a pair of black drawstring sweats that sat a little low on his tanned hips.

  Holy fuck.

  I stared at the sharp V and the toned cuts on his abdomen, taking in every solid bump and line of his abs.

  “Jesus,” I muttered, my eyes flying up to meet his.

  “Rose?” he questioned.

  “Hey,” I stupidly replied. Unsure of what to do with my hands, I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Did you need something?” His eyes left my face and slowly traveled over my body.

  I was all too aware of my short silk pajama shorts and white tank top that showed my bra underneath.

  “I got a dare,” I blurted out after a minute.

  He didn’t say anything, but his blank facial expression morphed into a knowing smile.

  “Come in.” He stepped to the side, gesturing for me to enter his room. I wasn’t counting on him responding the way he did. Trying to keep a brave front, I walked in as if I’d expected an invite from the get-go.

  His bedroom didn’t tell me much about him. There was a queen-sized bed, a futon sitting against one of the light gray walls, and a black desk in the corner with a laptop open, streaming the music that was playing.

  It looked so…adult. If that was a thing.

  His curtains were pulled back from a window that faced the front of the house, giving him a clear view right into my bedroom.

  Did he watch me as I watched him?

  “So, what was your dare, and how does it involve me?”

  I turned around to see him leaning against the bedroom door that was now shut.

  “It’s stupid. I’m supposed to get a kiss from you.” I forced out a laugh. “On the lips,” I added when he didn’t react.

  “You think that’s stupid?” he checked, cocking his head.

  It made me notice he’d recently got a haircut. His dark locks were always in a perfect undercut.

  “I think…well, I have to admit it’s a little childish.”

  “So then why didn’t you ask for another dare?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged helplessly, jamming my hands beneath my armpits.

  “Judging from how often you watch me from your bedroom window, I think you do know.”

  “My bedroom…?”

  Oh, God. He knows!

  There was no way he couldn’t see my face turning beet red. My skin was so pale, a snowman would be jealous. I didn’t have a response or explanation.

  No lies sprang forth in my mind that made sense, and my tongue was suddenly glued to the bottom of my mouth.

  “There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I watch you too,” he confessed, pushing off the door and coming to stand in front of me.

  His confession had blood rushing to my head. Perhaps I shouldn’t have downed so much liquor before seeking him out.

  “You shouldn’t, though,” I mumbled, cursing my lack of self-confidence to hell and back.

  “When it comes to you, Rosie, there are a lot of things I shouldn’t do.”

  He pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my head up until I was looking him in the eyes.

  “Tell me…when you lie on your bed and spread your legs, imagining me between them, do you use two fingers or one?”

  I told myself not to answer that, but my mouth decided now was the time to speak—albeit unintelligibly.

  “I don’t—”

  “Stop,” he bit out, dropping his hand to the base of my throat. “Don’t lie to me, pretty girl. I know what your face looks like when you come,” he added, squeezing with the slightest amount of pressure.

  It didn’t hurt, but the threat was clear.

  “What do you want?” My voice was barely above a whisper. I was seconds away from spacing out. Little beads of sweat were already rolling down my spine, and my poor heart was bouncing around inside my chest.

  Why did I think I could handle this?

  On one hand, I was elated that he was touching me. That he noticed me. That he watched me. But I was also terrified for those same reasons—because he had just admitted how much attention he’d been paying.

  “Hmmm, what do I want?” His blue eyes bored into my round, dark ones.

  I could smell the menthol from a recent cigarette on his breath.

  “Hey!” I yelped as my feet were swept out from underneath me. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for an impact that never came. At the last second, he wrapped his arms around me and gently lowered me the rest of the way to the floor.

  “What are you doing?!”

  “I’m helping you with a dare.” He shrugged, lurching down so his solid body was positioned over mine.

  “You’re going to help me…just like that? You barely even talk to me.”

  “But I’ve always watched you.” He sat back on his heels, staring at me with an intense expression on his face.

  “Con,” I breathed, pushing myself up onto my elbows. “It’s just a dare.”

  “Is it?”

  Before I could ask what he meant and what the hell had come over him, he was flashing me an ornery grin and grabbing the waistband of my shorts.

  He dragged them down my legs, taking my underwear along for the ride.

  “Constantine!” I gasped, attempting to cover myself. What is happening?!

  “You said you needed a kiss on the lips. You never said which ones.”

  “What? No!” I managed to sit all the way up and shoved against his chest, but within one second flat he had me on my back again.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Everything I shouldn’t,” he sighed. “I knew you were a natural redhead,” he commented after forcing my legs to part. There was no preamble or hesitation after that.

  He dove down and attached his mouth to my pussy, pushing his tongue inside me.

  “Con, stop it,” I hissed. I shoved against his shoulders, but the attempt was pathetically half-hearted. I wanted him to fight me, maybe even hurt me a little bit.

  My wish was granted when he easily subdued me, grabbing my wrists in an X shape, securing them in a vise-like grip.

  His tongue twisted and turned, sliding in and out, up to my clit where he teased me for a minute before licking all the way back down to the puckered hole of my ass to swirl around the rim.

  “God…” I choked out, digging my nails into my palms.

  Constantine Burrows had his head buried between my thighs. Was I in heaven, or on my way to hell?

  He devoured my pussy like he was starving for it. His appreciative little hums made it harder to resist what he was doing to me. Not that I really wanted to. I only pretended not to want it.

  I sank my teeth into my lower lip, struggling to hold back the barrage of moans that were making my chest heave.

  Vicky was downstairs, expecting me to get a kiss from her brother. I didn’t think this was what she meant.

  “Fuck,” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. Con knew exactly what he was doing. His mouth was magical; his tongue was my new best friend.

  I was oh so close, dancing right on the edge of what could have been the best orgasm of my life, when he stopped and pulled away, grinning at me with a glistening face.

  “Your pussy is the adult version of a Happy Meal.”

  What the hell did I say to that?

  His fingers quickly replaced his tongue, pumping in and out of my cunt, stretching me in a way that I’d never figured out how to do. I shut my eyes again, chasing the orgasm in my head.

  “Look at me, Rosie,” he commanded softly, only a little huskiness to his voice.

  I opened my eyes to look into his, unsure how to feel about what was being reflected back at me. Was it possession? Lust? Obsession over the neighbor he confessed to watching through the window at night?

  Maybe it was all of the above.

  When he curled two fingers inside me and pressed his thumb on my clit
, I came instantly, my hips arching up into him on their own accord.

  My legs tensed, pleasure burning through my core. He caught my loud moans in his mouth, letting me taste myself on his tongue.

  Our eyes stayed locked the entire time, amplifying the strange emotions between us.

  He continued to toy with me, forcing another orgasm as he gently flicked my swollen nub.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, attacking his mouth.

  His hard cock was pressing into my thigh. I wanted him right then. I wanted him to force his way inside me.

  I was always the good girl, and good girls weren’t supposed to behave like this.

  Just when I thought he was going to give me exactly what I was silently asking for, he kissed my forehead and sighed.

  “What about you?” I asked boldly when it looked like he was going to stand.

  “This wasn’t about me.” He pressed another kiss on my forehead, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. I wondered if I was dreaming, after all.

  “But…I want you.”

  When his dark brows slammed together, I thought he was going to laugh or reject me, but all he did was study my face.

  “You want your first time to be on my bedroom floor?” he asked.

  My first time?

  “You think I’m…Con, I’m not a virgin.” Admitting that to him made my entire body burn with shame. That ship had sailed long ago. My uncle had taken care of that my second week in his house.

  He came into my room and invited himself to get in the shower with me. I couldn’t do anything about it. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off.

  He made me bend over, breaking my nose against the tiled wall in the process and later telling my aunt I fell. He didn’t bother using a condom, just shoved his dirty, pedophile dick inside me and siphoned away every last drop of innocence I had.

  Night after night, he came into my room and took what he wanted, threatening to have me locked away in a juvenile center if I told a soul.

  He was the best damn prosecutor around, so I stupidly believed him. It wasn’t until after his death that the Sheriff told me about the arsenal of recordings he’d made of us together.

  I was a vile, disgusting creature for learning to enjoy it, for learning to come for a sick pervert.

  “You’re such a good girl, Rose.” I could still hear his voice in my ear, smell his alcoholic breath burning my nose hairs, and feel his skinny cock thrusting inside me. My stomach turned over at the vivid imagery.

  I couldn’t tell Con any of that. I had never told a single soul.

  “Since when?” he bit out, snapping me out of my memory reel.

  Why is he mad about this?

  “Does it matter?” I reached up and touched his cheek, grinding my aching pussy against him.

  He cursed, and then his mouth was back on mine and our hands were roaming all over each other. He pulled my tank top down, taking the cups of my bra with it. We were like two desperate, needy people who had finally found an elixir for the problems we hid from the world.

  His fingers went back between my legs, moving in and out, running up and down my labia as he pushed his sweatpants down.

  My heart felt like it was about to catapult out of my chest. I was nervous as hell. Fuck butterflies—this man made me feel the whole damn zoo.

  Man.

  Shit. I didn’t even know how old he was.

  I didn’t know anything about him, and I couldn’t care less about any of that. I’d fantasized about him on top of me a million different times.

  “You want this?” he asked, spreading my legs so wide my thighs began to burn.

  “Yes,” I groaned.

  “Just know—after we do this, I’m going to be your first, and you’ll always be my last.” He dipped a finger in me to the knuckle, pulling it out and then trailing it down to just above my asshole.

  His understanding made me want to cry.

  I was completely exposed to him, ready for him to do anything he wanted. He stared at me, those gorgeous eyes of his seeing everything I tried so hard to hide.

  “Sweet little Rose,” he sighed. “You’re spreading your legs for the monster that wants to defile you.”

  His words had a trigger effect, and the sick side of my mind rejoiced at hearing them like a poisonous compulsion.

  “Yes, please,” I begged. I would have got on my knees and pleaded by this point.

  “You never have to beg me, babe.” He attached his lips to mine, settled between my legs, and pushed inside me on my next breath. My nails scratched down his back, making him let out a soft hiss.

  I thought he’d be rough, but his movements were so slow and tender, it hurt.

  He pulled all the way out, just to slowly push back in again, burying himself to the hilt.

  “Fuck, you’re so damn beautiful, Rose,” Con groaned, digging his fingers into my flesh hard enough to bruise. I couldn’t form a response for that, so I didn’t bother trying.

  I loved how he filled me up, his cock stretching me in a way that was painfully blissful. His dick felt so much better than my uncle’s had. Each thrust made my pussy a little wetter.

  “Rose?” Vicky’s concerned voice carried down the hall from the bottom of the stairs, breaking through my mirage of horny lust.

  Uh oh.

  Get the fuck up, you dirty slut! my brain screamed at me.

  “Con, we have to stop,” I moaned, starting to push against his chest.

  “I don’t think so,” he murmured, pinning my hands above my head with one of his, sliding the other back between my legs as he began thrusting harder.

  “This is so wrong.”

  “That’s exactly why we’re not going to stop.” When his fingers pinched my clit, it was the equivalent of setting a bomb off.

  Every muscle in my body tensed as a white-hot heat pervaded throughout it.

  I turned my head and bit down on his arm to muffle the scream that spilled from my mouth.

  He let out a soft grunt, picking up his pace to the point that it hurt.

  The rug beneath us viciously burned my back, rubbing the skin raw. After a few more pumps, I felt his cock swell, and his body went rigid, tripping mine into another orgasm.

  Was this what normal sex felt like? If so, I needed more. When he finally pulled out of me, I immediately wanted to drag him back in, to wrap my legs around his waist and hold his dick hostage. It wasn’t until he helped me up from the floor and I adjusted my bra that what we did started to sink in.

  Does he regret it?

  What was I thinking?

  I could feel the excess semen between my legs, running out of my tender pussy.

  I tried to look anywhere but at him, searching for my shorts. There was no point in trying to wrap my head around what just happened until I was out of his room.

  Con wordlessly scooped my bottoms up and handed them to me, watching me with a thoughtful regard as I quickly pulled them on.

  “Do you know what this means for us?” he asked, breaking the tense silence while readjusting his pants.

  That I can never look you in the eye again, and your sister will probably crucify me.

  No,” I mumbled, wishing he’d just move out of the way so I could bolt from his room.

  Of course, he did the total opposite of that, and stepped forward so we were once again chest to chest.

  “It means you’re with me now.” He cupped my left cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

  “What do you mean, I’m with you?” I questioned slowly, hearing what he was saying but not believing it.

  “I didn’t think I’d be this nervous.” He laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Nervous about what?” Confusion had to be evident on my face. We’d just had sex on his floor; if that wasn’t an ice-breaker, what was?

  “I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” he exhaled on a shaky breath. “You’re my girl now, Rosie. Do you understand what that means?”

  I
simply blinked at him, tongue-tied all over again. There was a very foolish side of me that was absolutely overjoyed at hearing those words. And then there was the logical part of me, warning that this would never work.

  “Con,” I sighed dejectedly.

  It was supposed to be me making unrequited confessions about my lustful obsession, not him.

  Suddenly, all I wanted to do was hunt down a morning after pill and crawl into my bed. I didn’t want to be the voice of reason in this moment. It was becoming ruined and tarnished, like everything else I thought was perfect.

  “I’ll make you happy, I promise,” he swore vehemently.

  “Why would you—” I paused and took in the look on his face. He was being disturbingly sincere. “We don’t even know each other,” I whispered, taking a small step back.

  “See, but we do.” He quickly closed the distance between us and grabbed my hands. “You came to visit your grandfather with your parents over the summer.”

  He slid his arms around my waist, grabbing my ass and pulling me against him.

  A little click went off in my mind as faint realization dawned. Goosebumps erupted on my flesh as his confession took residence in my head.

  “That was almost four years ago.”

  “I know. I’ve been waiting on you ever since. You were wearing a purple sundress.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, then brought his thumb to my trembling lips.

  “You came right through the crosswalk and smiled at me. You were just as beautiful then as you are now.” He smoothed his thumb over my mouth, smiling down at me with a faraway look in his eye

  I lost all ability to speak. The situation laid out before me was so ridiculous it could have been fiction. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen in real life.

  My parents and I had gone to meet my grandfather at the bistro downtown.

  It was my birthday dinner, the last night my parents were alive. I was only fourteen. How the hell did he remember that?

  Something about that wasn’t adding up. The last time I saw him was in a courtroom. And I was certain he hadn’t been aware of me.

  Right when I opened my mouth to ask for some clarification, Vicky pounded on the door.

  “What the hell are you two doing?”

  What an excellent question.