Last Broken Rose Read Online Fawn Bailey (Rose and Thorn #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Rose and Thorn Series by Fawn Bailey
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
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I was led into the changing rooms where I found Lili helping my woman with her makeup. Her hair was already up in a tight bun, and Lili had started to apply thick, theatrical makeup to her skin.

"Stop," I growled, and my sister did as she was told, her hand yielding a brush stopping inches away from Rose's skin. "Leave us."

She didn't say a word, just put the brush down and left the changing room, leaving us by ourselves. My focus was on Rose however, and I watched her swallow nervously as I approached her, leaning down against her and breathing against her soft skin.

"You smell like roses," I told her, and she smiled sweetly.

"The lotion you got me," she explained. "I know you like it."

"I don't like this," I said, pointing to all the makeup laid out in front of her. "I just want you tonight, Rose."

"But it won't look as nice," she said softly. "Under those harsh theater lights... I'd look prettier with all that on."

"I don't give a shit," I told her roughly. "I want that pretty face bare."

She turned around in her seat until her eyes met mine. She looked as fucking perfect as ever, so submissive, so willing to succumb to my every desire and give me exactly what I wanted from her.

"I want to fuck you," I told her plainly. "Will you be able to dance after?"

"If you take care of me," she whispered. "If you don't bruise me..."

My fists tightened at the sound of her voice, the silent longing for me to actually go through with it. She didn't give a shit whether I hurt her. She craved it as much as I did. But it was more than that. She would take whatever I doled out. She was my willing little victim and I fucking loved it.

"Get up," I growled, and she did, still wearing her White Swan outfit.

It was a tutu that showed off her pert little ass, her legs in white tights and pretty white ballet slippers. The bodice she wore was encrusted with shiny stones, shimmering and glittering under the lights. With her face bare like that, she didn't look like a little girl. She looked like a woman... my woman.

I pushed her back, not gently but not too roughly. With a gasp, her ass landed on the vanity, and I stepped between her legs, proprietorially wrapping my hands around her slender neck.

"You do look like a swan," I told her. "I can't wait to see the transformation."

I knew a little about the ballet she'd be dancing that night after doing some research. She was performing two roles that night - first, the White Swan, and after, the Black Swan. Many called it the most challenging role of a dancer's lifetime, but I had no worries about her being unable to perform. She was incredible, and I believed in her completely. My sister had also assured me she was ready mentally, and even though I could sense she was nervous, there was something else bubbling beneath her skin.

Excitement.

I felt jealousy taking over. I was an irrational fucking jerk. Jealous of her love for dancing, so damn possessive I wanted to take every last pleasure away from her and replace it with things I enjoyed instead. I wanted her obsessed with me. I wanted every move, every word she spoke to be meant for me and no one else.

I growled against her lips, kissing her roughly, my stubble scratching her pretty skin.

"Part your legs wider," I growled at her, my hands greedily rubbing her cunt through the leotard she was wearing. "I want that pussy. Show me how much you need me inside it."

She mewled, and her hands shook as she undid the buttons holding her costume together. I didn't take her clothes off, merely pushed her fabric off to the side and took my cock out, massaging the thick, throbbing length of it while she slipped two fingers in her pussy. She moaned at the feeling, fucking herself lightly and make me even harder.

"I won't make it hurt," I promise her, aiming my cock at her entrance.

But her fingers twined around my wrist, and she made me look up at her before I could enter the heaven between her legs.

"Please do," she whispered.

I groaned and pushed inside her, fabric ripping when I fucked her, and she threw her head back. My hand went to her throat and I fucking choked the moans out of her, demanding her gaze to follow mine, desperately watching, hoping, praying for more.

I fucked her like a madman, which is what she turned me into.

No other Rose and no other woman had ever made me feel like she did. I'd always been possessive to a fault, but never like this. Never this hell-fucking-bent on making her submit. I wanted her broken. I wanted to piece her back together, so I could do it to her again. And she fucking loved it... Every time I chipped at her she begged for more, and because I was fucking weak, I didn't resist. I just took away from her. Took pieces and chunks and took her mind and made it all mine until she was a plaything... A sexy, smart and needy little slut that would do anything for me.


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