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“Relax, Doll. A bit of pain for a lot of pleasure. I promise.”
I cut her like I always do—only a tiny, superficial cut, barely bigger than a papercut. I don’t need more for the blood to flow. I become restlessly enthusiastic as I press my thumb against the cut and lower myself between her legs. The first stroke of my tongue has her following the movement. I keep going until she’s writhing and moaning. I know the exact moment Lik pinches her nipple sharply because she hisses in pain before letting it turn into a moan. I bring two fingers to her soaking cunt and slide them in easily.
“Oh god,” she whimpers.
I pull away from her clit, pushing into her in slow but harsh movements.
When she’s close to coming, I bring the knife just above the previous wound. I cut in as she starts tightening around my fingers.
“Rach,” she cries out with blissful pain.
Roselovespain. There is nothing that makes her wetter. Nothing can make her come harder. And as I puncture her skin a third time and curl my fingers inside her, she explodes into an orgasm that makes her lose all sense of sanity.
The way she came to be addicted to pain is a terrible story. But we’ve managed to turn it around, to all find something for ourselves in it. Especially her. That’s how she fights back her traumatic past. She used it and made it her own.
* * *
“It’s honestly ridiculous!” Rose snaps at me as I dry myself.
We’ve just finished showering in the upstairs bathroom while the guys clear the table downstairs. I made everyone beef ragu tagliatelle for lunch, and everything was going absolutely fine until I said I had to go home. That’s when Rose started sulking.
She tried to convince me to stay while we were taking a shower together. My refusal brought the bitch out of her. And when she saw I had brought shower gel and shampoo from my house so I wouldn’t smell differently than usual to Conor, the ugly jealousy came out.
“Rose, I’m not even listening to you. Save your breath,” I fight back as I grab clean underwear out of my bag.
“Sunshine,” she growls. “Leave. Him.” I ignore her, getting into what I call my housewife dress. The kind Conor approves of.
“What are you doing tonight?” I deflect. It reminds me to check the time. 6:30 p.m.
“Luke, Chris, and Jake are all in Stoneview. We’re having a sleepover, and you should join.”
Barely listening, I check my app. Conor is still at Beth’s. He usually comes back from her house around 9:30 p.m. on Fridays. I welcome him in the kitchen with a half-assed meal, and he tells me he ate at his friend’s house before poker. I love Fridays because he’s fucked Beth enough times, he doesn’t even try to touch me.
She puts one of Sam’s sweatshirts on, and I don’t miss how she pushes it against her face and inhales his scent before turning to me again.
“So that’s a yes?” she asks.
“What?”
“You’re coming with me to Chris’s house?”
“No, absolutely not. What the hell are you on about?”
“I’ll come with you to yours,” she insists. “And I’ll tell Sam and Lik to come too. And you can leave him without fearing his reaction.”
Anger boils in me. She always thinks she has the best ideas, doesn’t she? She doesn’t understand it’s not just him. Mainly, yes. But then there are my parents to deal with. The way they’ll push me back to him. Whatever dealings mine and his dad have going on for their companies. One owns a national chain of supermarkets. The other is a supplier of fresh foods. How. Fucking. Boring. And it’s my life that’s been put on the line for their businesses to keep striving.
She grabs my wrist when I start putting my day clothes in my bag. “Rose,” I snap. “Stop this right now.”
“I’m sick of watching you going back to him,” she hisses at me. “I made sacrifices for this to work. I want you to do the same.”
I cackle a sarcastic laugh, but it’s not enough for her to release her hold. “What sacrifices? Your pride? Cause it’s so hard to swallow it every time you drop to your knees for us like a good little slut?”
The way her jaw tightens and her eyes darken is a good reminder that she is far from a submissive outside of the bedroom. In a swift movement, she’s got me face-first against the wall, a hand coming under my dress and cupping my pussy through my cotton panties.
“Do you want to repeat that?” she threatens darkly. “Should I fuck Conor out of your head? Make you drunk on me before you go back to him all wet and bothered?”
I shake my head. “No,” I whisper, embarrassed at how easily she moves me around. I thought training with Sam would help, but I didn’t even see her coming.
