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Pope backed me up to the picnic table, the backs of my legs pressing against the edge of the wooden slats. I welcomed the bite of pain.
"Tell me what you want," Pope ordered, wrapping one hand in my hair.
I bared my teeth. "To feel."
His eyebrows rose, his gaze searching my face. "To feel?" He tugged on my hair, the sting forcing me to tilt my head back, exposing my throat. "Or to hurt?"
His question proved too decadent to ignore.
"Make me hurt."
Pope’s dark chuckle coiled tension low in my abdomen, my thighs growing slick with my arousal. The sardonic sound twisted around me, promising to deliver the rough, carnal pleasure I craved.
"Are you sure, Jules?" he asked, nipping his way across my exposed neck. "These violent delights have violent ends."
"Shakespeare?" I murmured, my eyelids drifting shut. "Really, Pope?"
"You want me to hurt you, darlin'? Then you better have a safe word."
I forced my eyes open, my gaze crashing into his.
"Hollow. My safe word is hollow."
Because that's what I feel—empty, hollow, a shell.
"And your boundaries?" he asked, running a thumb across the curve of my cheek. "What can't I do to you?"
I licked my dry lips, throwing caution to the wind. "Nothing. Tonight you can do whatever you want."
His grin was slow and filled with heat. "All right, Jules. Have it your way." He stepped back, his hands dropping to his belt. With slow, precise movements, he unbuckled it, his hands resting on the fly of his jeans.
"On your knees, pretty girl."
Chapter Three
JULES
Pope's blunt order sent a dark thrill zinging down my spine.
Am I really doing this?
He watched me, his hands resting on his jeans, telling me without words that this was my decision.
With a shuddering breath, I sank to my knees. The skirt of my dress pooled under my legs, the thin barrier useless against the sharp rocks and sticks cutting into my skin.
I rocked back and forth welcoming the pain.
"Well?" Pope taunted, his tone low and rough. "You gonna sit there or suck me?"
With trembling hands, I lowered the zipper of his fly, peeling back his jeans to reveal black boxer briefs.
His fingers tangled in my red curls, cradling my head.
"Your decision, Little Red."
His pet name felt like a caress against my skin.
Confident now, I tugged the material down, relishing the sight of his cock. Thick, long and heavy. I spat in my hand then wrapped it around his base, licking my lips in anticipation.
