Just wanted to check in, Rose. I’ll be home tomorrow night.
All right, Gav. I miss you.
The words on the screen taunted me as my legs trembled, aching for my next release. “You miss him, Flower? Hmm? Are you thinking about him now while I’m ramming you with my fucking cock. You can tell me, baby.”
I rose to my tiptoes, my body shuddering as my release was coming in full force.
“Go on, say it. I want to hear you while you come apart for me.”
I shook my head and felt my pussy clench as he gripped my hair tighter in his hand as he pulled my head back.
“I told you to fucking say it,”he seethed.
As I looked up into his eyes, I could feel my release coming as I tried to whisper the words.
“I-I m-miss you… G-Gavin,” I choked; however, the moan that followed as I came proved that was simply a lie. Forcing me through my orgasm as he fucked me relentlessly, my mind shattered as I came harder than I probably ever had in my life. His grip never faltered as he continued driving me over the edge like I hadn’t already fallen and sunk to the bottom.
“That’s right, Flower. Say it while you fall apart on my dick. Say it while your pussy milks me dry.”
Falling onto the desk, I shuddered, finally able to breathe as Beckham slowed his thrusts. Stroking my hair, he tsked, his voice filled with false pity. “Poor baby… look what you’ve done to yourself.”
I tried to move but my legs wouldn’t let me, my pussy still wanting him despite feeling sore.
“It’s okay, Flower. You’re okay, baby…That’s my good girl. Just letting mefucking ruin you. Doesn’t it feel better this way?” he asked, his soft kisses against my skin voiding my mind of any worries, filling me with bliss.
I opened my mouth to deny, to fight, to say anything to break the spell, break the cycle—but then he rolled his hips forward, filling me again, stretching me open. A moan threatened to escape me as my body trembled, clinging to him despite everything.
And then I answered him with the honest truth, watching as the previously filled pristine wine glass lay shattered, broken on the desk as the wine dripped down to the floor.
“…It does.”
Chapter thirty-two
Rosenna
SteppingoutofBeckham’scar, I looked up at the warehouse he’d brought me to. Still holding me to my responsibility of being his model, he decided to switch things up today.
After my disastrous dinner with Gavin, I needed a distraction—a reason to ignore the fact that my marriage was slipping farther from my grasp.
And Beckham? He was more than willing to provide one.
I should have left after last night. I should have gone home, locked myself in my room, done anything to stop myself from getting into his car. But the cycle had already won. It always did.
His hands. His lips. His voice.
He sunk his claws into me. Unraveled my emotions. Taunted me.Broke me.
The slightly traumatic mind-blowing sex that followed?An unwanted plus, but a plus nonetheless.
Beckham grabbed my hand as we approached one of the many art storage warehouses he had around the city. As he opened the door with the key, we stepped in, and I found an interesting sight.
There were two setups. The first consisted of a camera with a stool in front of it, and the second consisted of a wide black canvas that was positioned on the floor.
There were no blankets or roses. However, I did notice the buckets of paint that were in the room with little to no utensils for them.
“Beckham... what is this?” I whispered.
He let go of my hand as he walked over to the backdrop stand behind the stool. Letting it drop to the ground, he adjusted the components slightly.
