by Fawn Bailey
Last Broken Rose
A Dark Romance
Fawn Bailey
Copyright © 2018 by Fawn Bailey
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
1. Thorn
2. Harlow
3. Harlow
4. Carina
5. Thorn
6. Rose
7. Rose
8. Rose
9. Rose
10. Thorn
11. Rose
12. Rose
13. Carina
14. Rose
15. Thorn
16. Rose
17. Carina
18. Rose
19. Thorn
20. Rose
21. Rose
22. Rose
23. Thorn
Epilogue
More information…
Also by Fawn Bailey: new mafia dark romance series, Gilded Cage
For those who love with an open heart,
Fawn
P.S. This book was inspired by the song Kings and Queens of Summer by Matstubs.
One
Thorn
Her eyes were watering, and her mouth was set in a line, the bottom lip trembling as I came to her.
I dropped to my knees in front of her. My queen, my goddess, my Rose.
She would truly do it. She didn't even need time to think about it. She was ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for me.
I wanted to hate myself for making her do it. The need to punish her for something I knew she was going to do all along. Since the moment I brought her home with me, I knew she was going to run. It was in her nature, in her young blood. She had hopes and inspirations, and she hadn't spent a year obsessing over me as I had about her. I knew I was a fucking goner a long time ago, but she had yet to make the realization.
"Rose," I said gently, and her tear-filled eyes turned down to meet mine. "I don't want to force you."
"You don't need to," she said fiercely. "It's my own decision and one that I am making willingly. I will give it up. Whatever you ask of me. Now, will you do it?"
Her hand was shaking as she placed it on my shoulder, her eyes dancing with shadows of fear.
"Will you do it, please Master?" she muttered, and I felt my fucking heart sink.
"I will," I promised her.
She was shaking as I took her ankles in my fingers and kissed her calves, the silk of her dress soft against my skin. I moved my lips up her skin, under her dress, kissing a line up her thighs until I reached her sweet cunt. I kissed the top of it, the skin just as silky as her dress. I could smell my own jizz inside her and it drove me wild. It told me whom she belonged to, and it was exactly the answer I needed to hear.
"Master," she breathed, her legs quaking between my arms. "Please, don't make me wait."
I held her tightly as I pulled a pocket knife from my pocket. It was the one I'd used before to cut her lingerie, and she gasped when she saw it. I thought she would start to sob, maybe change her mind and beg me not to do it. But she stayed fucking strong for me. I knew I was a sick, crazy bastard for doing it. Yet I couldn't stop myself. I needed this. I needed to take it away from her, lock it away, so she would be mine forever.
I touched the blade to her ankle and she stood up straight, her eyes going to mine.
"Do it," she whispered. "Fucking do it."
There were so many reasons not to go through with it, and my mind resisted, screeching as the blade rested against her skin. I felt her body sagging against mine, and I looked up to find her looking almost delirious.
"It's okay," I whispered, and she mewled before falling to her knees before me.
The knife clattered from my hands as I held onto her. The reasons not to do this were filling my head with worry. But she had agreed, she wanted me to do it. She was willing to make the sacrifice for me. And a sick, demented part of me wanted to go through with it. Take her dancing away from her just because I could.
Instead, I held onto her tightly, holding her like she was the most precious cargo in the world.
"It's okay," I repeated, over and over again until she finally stopped sobbing.
She was a pretty little mess in my hands, and she raised her eyes to meet mine. Her gaze was filled with so much fear it surprised me. She was willing to go through with this, but it didn't mean she wasn't scared.
"Won't you do it?" she asked shakily, and I kissed the top of her head, holding her close.
"Not now," I told her, my voice heavy with emotion. "It needs to be somewhere sterile, I don't want to hurt you."
Her body sagged more, and I wasn't sure whether it was relief or fear of when I'd actually go through with it. I didn't question it either. Just held her and laid her body out on the blanket, covering it with mine. My lips reached down to hers, kissing what was mine as gently as I knew she needed it.
"You need to do it," she murmured weakly against my lips. "Have you changed your mind?"
I thought about it. It was a cruel thing to do, but the evil man who lived inside my head was still going to go through with it. I just wanted it done in a safe environment so she wouldn't get hurt more than I needed her to.
"I will," I promised her again, raining kisses on her sweet skin. "I'll hurt you, Rose. I'll hurt you more than I've ever hurt anyone before. I promise."
She whimpered beneath me and I held her close, feeling like I was the one holding her together. Maybe she would have fallen apart without me, but maybe this would make her stronger. I was hoping for the latter, though I had to admit there was something delicious about it when she let go of herself completely.
We lay together under the stars and I waited for her breathing to slow down, the panic to leak out of her pores and for my girl to be returned to my arms.
As I looked deep into her eyes, I felt, for the very first time since I'd had her, that she truly belonged to me. She had accepted her fate willingly, falling into my waiting embrace and forgoing any other dreams that she may have had.
I watched those beautiful eyes turn upwards to the sky, watching the stars dazzle and dance across the moonlit night. She stared up with her eyes wide open and wondering, but for me, there was nothing to look for in the sky. My whole universe was lying right next to me, and she was the only thing I wanted to see.
My fingers touched her skin, gently exploring her collarbone, dipping into her dress and searching her for the marks I'd left on her.
She got up a second later, putting her weight on her elbow and staring at me with hope in her gaze. I knew she had something to say, and a few moments later, she spoke up, just like I'd known she would.
I knew there would be some doubts about her decision, but I didn't expect her to shatter me as fiercely as she did in the next few minutes.
"There's something I want," she admitted, and I looked up into her dazzling blue eyes.
"What is it?" I asked her gently.
"I... There's one last thing I want to do before I stop... being able to dance," she managed to get out, nervously chewing on her bottom lip as she gave me a frightened look. "If that's okay."
"What might that be?" I asked, but right away, my guard was up.
I wasn't sure what she would ask for, but I had a feeling I wouldn't fucking like it. I was a selfish bastard, intent on keeping her close to me always, and I didn't want her requesting something I wasn't willing to give her. It would only end up hurting her in the end when I had to turn h
er down.
"I've always wanted to..." she started, her words drifting off to nothing as she bit her lip, and I comforted her by stroking her hand. "I want to dance as Odette and Odile, in Swan Lake."
"Oh?" I said, my eyebrows going up as I waited for her to clarify.
"The ballet by Tchaikovsky," she said, and I hated the apologetic tone in her voice.
"Don't worry," I said softly. "You can tell me anything. I won't judge you, and I'll listen until you explain. Okay?"
"Okay," she nodded gratefully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Sitting in the moonlight, she looked fucking breathtaking. Her hair was so light it looked silver and gold under the stars, and her eyes shone just like the moon. She was a beauty alright, and a savage, selfish need to call her my own took over me. I didn't want anyone else touching her. I could barely bear the thought of another man seeing what I saw, knowing how fucking fast I fell for her and how damn easy it would be for someone else to do the same.
"It's always been a dream of mine," she finally went on. "My mom... She took me to see Swan Lake when I was a little girl. And it's always been a dream to dance in the role of Odette and Odile. It's a double role - the white swan and the black swan. It's one of the hardest routines and takes a big toll on the dancer, but... I really want to do it."
"Before..." I started, but she didn't let me finish, motioning for me to stop with her hand.
"I will go through with it," she whispered. "For you."
"You don't have to," I reminded her, and we stared at one another with fire in our eyes.
She didn't have to say a word. I had given her a choice indeed, do it, or leave me, but it wasn't really a choice. She wouldn't leave me willingly... or would she?
I knew deep down that even if she tried, I would capture her again and keep her for myself.
"I wanted to ask," she said, swallowing thickly and showing me how hard this was for her. "If it would be possible... Before I go through with it..."
"Yes?" I asked encouragingly.
"To train harder," she asked. "To be at my peak when I go out. To dance one last time, only for you if that's what you choose. But I want to dance as Odette and Odile. One last time. For your eyes only."
I pondered her question while she squirmed uncomfortably on the blanket. I could tell she was nervous, the toll asking me had taken on her. I wanted to say yes, but a selfish part of me wanted to take it all from her, and made me wonder if I had lost the very last vestige of humanity inside me. Finally, I nodded and she smiled wider than I'd ever seen her.
"You may train and dance," I told her. "You will have a year to prepare for the role. A year by my side."
"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around my shoulders. "I'm so grateful..."
I held her close, inhaling her sweet scent and cherishing every moment I got to spend in her company.
But as she pulled away, the far-away look I had noticed in her eyes before was firmly set into place again.
I'd only seen it gone once, and it was when she'd accepted that her tendons would be cut, that she'd never dance again professionally. And as soon as that hope, that dream, was back in her life, so was the look in her eyes that told me she was day-dreaming once again. Hoping for things she would never have. Lusting for a career path I'd never let her take. The competition between me and her love for dancing was fierce, and it was getting heated.
"You're welcome, Rose," I muttered as she smiled sweetly and kissed my lips.
She tasted of sugar and dreams I could never fulfill, and I hated myself for giving her false hope. Would I actually be able to watch her train? Love something else when my fucked up, selfish mind demanded that attention only for myself?
"Thank you, she repeated over and over again, her lips soft on top of mine.
I smiled rigidly, but deep down, I was already regretting my decision.
Two
Harlow
I felt rejuvenated, like a whole new person.
What Thorn had asked of me had twisted me up, turned me into a new person. But standing up for myself gave me even more strength, and I my mind was busy running amok with the possibilities. I would train again, properly. I would dance again... I would learn the routine for my all-time favorite ballet and perform it, if only for Thorn. It was a new purpose in my life, a new reason to live for. And I thrived knowing it was there.
Despite Amber leaving, Thorn kept Marchante around, and I arrived for my lesson that morning feeling much braver than I usually did. I had the feeling Marchante didn't like me very much since Thorn had lost his nerve with him for being too strict, but at least there was no one else for him to focus on now. As horrible as that sounded, I was glad to have the teacher's attention on me, despite the feelings of guilt about Amber that kept me awake at night.
I couldn't bring myself to hate Thorn for what he'd done to me. I wanted to. I needed to. But I had accepted it - that we were meant to haunt one another until we both gave in to the love that threatened to destroy us both. I had come to terms with being his willing victim. What I would never accept though, was that it had impacted others - innocent people like Amber, and, so I had thought, Carina.
I didn't feel sorry for my traitorous friend. She'd dug her own hole, and once I'd found out about her scheming against me, I didn't give a shit anymore. But I still wanted to keep tabs on Amber, and hopefully, through time, lessen the punishment she would have to suffer at the hands of Carina's father.
But for the moment, my attention was only on my training and feeling the stage floorboards creak under my feet again. That is why I started to get impatient after twenty minutes of waiting, and no Marchante.
I walked away from the studio and down the hallway until I ran into a guard.
"Where's Thorn?" I asked, and he gave me a blank stare.
I was used to it. Since he'd made sure everyone knew whom I belonged to, I hadn't received any unwanted attention.
"Busy," he replied awkwardly, turning his attention away from me.
"Hey," I argued. "I need to talk to him. My ballet teacher didn't show up."
"Marchante?" the guard asked, letting out a low chuckle as if there was some inside joke I wasn't privy to. "He's gone. Not coming back anytime soon."
"What?" I asked angrily, feeling my temper rising. "I want to speak to Thorn. Now."
"He's busy," the guard said again, glaring at me and standing up straighter in front of the door.
From his protective stance, I got the feeling my Thorn was right behind that door, and I bristled with anger trying to think of a way to get in there. I glared at the guard hoping he would just spontaneously combust, then turned to walk away, but at the last minute, turned around and rushed against the doors, opening them wide.
"Thorn!" I cried out, feeling like a child throwing a temper tantrum.
But I didn't care. I wanted him to help me. He'd promised I'd be able to dance one last time. He couldn't back out so soon after making his promise... could he?
He was standing in the center of the room, his fingers on his chin as he looked outside into the gardens through the large French doors leading out onto the balcony. He looked so handsome in the sunlight it took my breath away and made me wonder at the thought that this man was mine. But the thought didn't last long because the guard grabbed my arms from behind me and manhandled me so roughly I screeched.
"Fucking let go," Thorn growled, and the man let go of my arms as if they were on fire, lifting his hands in the air.
"Okay," he said apologetically. "Sorry, you said not to disturb you, and..."
"Get the fuck out," Thorn told him menacingly, and when the guard's gaze lingered on me, he added a low warning. "NOW!"
He got out in seconds, leaving only my man and me with the bubbling anger in the pit of my stomach.
"You bastard," I said angrily, launching myself at him. "You let Marchante go! You promised I would train! You promised I'd get one last dance!"
"Woman, calm
down," he ground out at me, and I hissed at the sight of him fighting a smile. "Stop hitting, you little whore. You're not doing any fucking damage."
"I don't care," I cried out, suddenly even more enraged that he wasn't admitting what the problem was and just dealing with me like I was a nuisance. "I want him back! I need to train!"
He snarled and grabbed me by my hips, and I shrieked as he sat down on a couch and placed me on his lap. He pulled my leotard aside, revealing my naked ass and pussy while I hit his legs with my little fists.
"Let go!" I demanded, but he merely laughed at me, as if I was only an annoying pest he could swat away.
The thought came just as his hand landed on my ass, making me shriek sharply as he hit me with full force.
"Ow," I cried out. "That hurts! I did nothing wrong!"
"Shut the fuck up, little slut," he growled into my ear, making me moan despite my best efforts to stop the sound from escaping my lips. "You don't get to barge in here just like that. Didn't the guard tell you I'm busy?"
"With what?" I asked huffily, and he grabbed me, turned me over his lap and exposed my pussy.
I squirmed on his lap but he held me down firmly, a hand on my ribcage and another holding my legs open.
"You're about to see," he muttered against my hipbones, toying with my leotard and making the fabric dig into my pussy.
I cried out, needing him to take it further and at the same time hating him for making me feel that way. The way he toyed with my mind was that of a master manipulator, and I wanted to hate him, but every cell in my body screamed out for me to submit instead.
