These Thorn Kisses (St. Mary’s Rebels 3)

I’m finally his flower because I’ve broken his barrier; my thorn is touching me. He’s fisting and pulling on things, making it sting so beautifully.

Poetically.

I know I have a long way to go still. But I will take this.

I will rejoice.

“How about before you pinky promise me anything,” he begins, his voice as rough and sexy as his touch, “you tell me what it is you’re promising me, huh? Tell me what I’m saying to you, Bronwyn. Tell me what I want your pink mouth to do.”

My heart is pounding in my chest, racing and flying. With so much love for him. So much affection.

With how clueless he is.

Does he really think this will shock me? Him asking that question.

I caress his harsh biceps — the veins of which I can feel even through the fabric of his shirt — as I whisper, “You want my mouth to suck your cock.”

His breath is so violent at my frank words, so gusty that it flutters the hairs on the top of my head. And his hand around my necklace shakes so much that he makes the chain tinkle so gloriously.

“My cock,” he growls.

“Yes.” I bite my lip and glance down at his lap. “That I think is big. Because you’re so big. And I can’t wait.”

Another shudder runs through his tight frame and he tugs at my hair again, making me look up. “Stop fucking staring at it.”

“But —”

“And it is huge.”

“How huge?” I ask with wide eyes.

He gnashes his teeth at my question. And I think that he won’t answer but he does.

In fact, he paints a picture that has me panting.

“It’s the cock of a thirty-three-year-old man,” he rasps, “that won’t fit in your eighteen-year-old mouth. It’s a beast that your eighteen-year-old mouth will struggle to take in, let alone suck it like I like it. It’s wider than your tiny wrists and longer than that rosy as fuck face of yours, do you understand? You put your face under my dick, Bronwyn, and I’ll cover it from your chin to your forehead and still have inches left. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

I’m not only panting now, I’m salivating.

I swear to God, I am.

I’m also clenching my thighs, clenching and pressing them together, because I really can’t wait now.

I really can’t wait to have that thing, his beast, in my pink mouth.

“I do, yes,” I whisper, fisting his shirt. “And now I really can’t wait.”

“You really can’t wait,” he lashes out, his fingers twisting in my hair. “You really can’t wait to fit my dick in your rosebud of a mouth, yeah? To open that rosebud of a mouth and stretch it wide for me. You can’t wait to thrust out your tongue and have me in there. Is that what you’re saying? Have me stretch you, like a rubber fucking band. Because I will. I will stretch your lips. I’ll fucking smear your pretty lipstick all over your chin. Your favorite fucking lipstick, all over your goddamn chin, wrecking all your pinky promises. So think before you talk. Think, Bronwyn.”

“I am.”

“You are.”

“Yes.” I swallow, licking my rosebud of a mouth. “And I understand that maybe I won’t be able to do it in one go. But then… But then I can practice.”

“Practice.”

“Yes. Maybe I can start by only sucking on the head,” I whisper, so eager, so fucking eager to do it. “Licking it, making it all wet and slobbery. And then when I can do that well, maybe you can… maybe you can give me more. And I can do it, too. Everyone says that I’m a good student. That I’m a hard worker. I learn fast. You read my file, remember?”

He is silent for a couple of seconds as if absorbing what I said, as if mulling the idea over in his head, before saying in a voice that sounds abraded, sanded down, “Yeah, I did. Bronwyn Littleton, good girl of St. Mary’s.”

I want to nod my head but he’s got such a grip on me that I can’t move it, so I inject all my determination and eagerness into the spoken word. “Yes. And I know I misbehave sometimes and I can be trouble. But I promise that I’ll learn fast. I promise that I’ll suck your dick like you like it. Because you’re my thorn and I’m your wallflower.”

That makes him growl.

A very low growl, somewhere down in his chest.

“My wallflower,” he repeats. “Mine. And she wants to thank me. By sucking my dick like I like it.”

“Uh-huh.”

His fingers flex in my hair again. “I like it a lot, you understand? I need it a lot. I need my dick sucked every day, three times a day. You up for that?”

I lick my lips again, this time my mouth watering to the fullest. “Yes. Yes I am.”