Twelve of Roses

“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.