With a quiet grunt, he abruptly stood up, almost knocking me backward, separating our mouths.
“I get it, Rose,” he practically growled, grabbing me by the shoulders and forcing me to turn around.
“You want rough, right?” he asked, yanking my shorts down to my ankles and shoving a knee between my legs.
“Yes,” I pleaded, catching myself on the table when he physically spread my legs wider, causing me to lose my balance.
I felt his warm breath on the back of my calf a split second before he was dragging his tongue all the way up to my right ass cheek, drawing circles on the flesh before sinking his teeth down.
A soft hiss left my mouth. I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead to the table. He gripped the round globe and moved his mouth to the other side, repeating the motion on my left cheek, biting down a little harder. I groaned in contentedness, pushing myself back against him.
His lips rained down on both sets of bite marks as he gently pulled my thong down.
“I’m going to stick my dick in here,” he breathed, spreading my ass cheeks apart and placing the tip of his tongue right above my puckered hole.
“God, yes,” I moaned, not above begging for his beautiful cock in my ass.
“Not yet,” he teased.
I opened my mouth to complain, snapping it shut when he pushed his thumb all the way in instead, rotating it around to loosen me up.
“Max,” I moaned in frustration.
He laughed, pulled out and took hold of both cheeks, spreading them as far apart as he could, pushing his face between them.
“Ride my tongue with your ass. Ride it as hard as you can,” he commanded.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I eased back at the same time he eased forward.
I fucked his face with my ass just like he wanted me to. My moans and quick pants carried around the empty house. My nails dug into the wooden table, leaving scratch marks behind. He thrust his tongue in and out, keeping up with my erratic movements.
I reached back with one hand and grabbed hold of his hair, grinding on his tongue as hard as I could. My pussy throbbed between my legs, begging for attention, arousal dripping down my thigh.
When I reached down to stroke my clit, Max broke free and stood up. A strong shove on my back had my chest colliding with the tabletop. Within seconds, his hard dick was driving into me without concern, tearing and burning.
“Fuck, Max.” I moaned his name, rubbing my clit and slipping two fingers inside my cunt. He fucked my ass without mercy; just like I wanted, like I needed.
The table rocked beneath us, beginning to slide across the hardwood floor from our violent movements.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” he grunted, slamming one hand down to brace himself, winding the other in my hair.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed, feeling my impending climax rushing towards me.
“Shut the fuck up, Rose.” He pulled my head back, forcing my back to bow and his dick to go deeper. Nothing intelligible could come from my mouth after that. I added two more fingers, shoving all four in and out of my pussy, knuckle deep.
It was like a race to see what was going to make me come harder. In the end, I couldn’t pick; I came screaming his name, furiously rubbing my clit as he pounded into me. He continued to thrust as I tried to catch my breath. His dick swelled and he buried himself fully, coming with a different variation of my name on his lips.
“Rosie,” he sighed, leaning over me to kiss my cheek.
The nickname plucked at a distorted cord inside my chest. It was too much like him. I shut my eyes before Max could see the chaotic storm brewing inside them.
Chapter Fourteen
Present
How could she do this to me?
I paced back and forth, balling and un-balling my fists. She was pushing me on purpose. I knew her. I broke my ribs apart and pulled pieces of me out to make her.
Rose was mine, mine, mine. She was the altar I was forced to worship, beautiful like sunshine, but just as cancerous. She was a sick fucking poison invading my lungs. She was a tumor I couldn’t get rid of.
I needed her. This life wasn’t worth living without her. Didn’t I just suffer four years for this woman? Let her have some illusion of freedom by pretending I was nothing but a crisp corpse rotting in the ground?
Rose-Mary told me to pick her. I wasn’t going to. I was going to find someone else, but she said there would be a sign when the time was right.
Rose-Mary was the first woman who got my dick hard and taught me how to treat women in general. She would come into my room and ride me real slow while whispering in my ear all the things I should do to her. She loved when I smacked her around and busted her lip or blacked her eye. I never had my real mom around, and she stepped up to raise us while being a dutiful wife to my father.
“You’ll find your own Rose someday,” she’d whisper, licking my neck, and then she’d tell me how I would know which Rose was the perfect one.
Number twelve was always the end goal. I never asked why, but my dad agreed, so I just went with it.
I carried Rose-Mary with me in my heart while gathering up my Roses as fast as I could to obtain the one that completed the dozen.
All until the day I saw her. That was when I saw the light. The second she smiled at me, the fixation began. None of the Roses had lasted exceedingly long, but I knew this one would be different. This one was special.
The second time I saw her, she had tears rolling down her cheeks. I was standing in the courtroom, waiting to hear my father’s bail for running her mom off the road. His defense was being drunk. That was all bullshit, though. He knew what he was doing.
The pretty redhead had been too hysterical to notice me right then. It wasn’t until some woman beside her leaned down to comfort her that I heard her full name for the first time.
Roselynn.
I knew it was fate. This beautiful girl were meant to be.
I wasn’t losing her again. I had to finish what I started so she could come home. I stared down at my next victim, a woman sleeping soundly in her bed. She was none the wiser that I’d been in her house since she came stumbling in drunk. She forgot to double check her back door before going through her nightly routine.
I watched her eat supper, take a shower, and climb under her sheets to fall asleep. The whole time she thought she was safe, just like Rose used to. It was so easy to creep inside their homes and watch them for hours upon hours. I used to sleep in Rose’s closet.
She had a blue sweater covered in my semen. I hid it in the very back every time I left, making sure she wouldn’t find it.
Creeping forward and pulling my balaclava down over my face, I moved fast.
I smothered the woman’s body with my own and pressed a hand over her mouth. Her eyes flew open, darting around, wild and frenzied. She tried to scream, but I’d already expected that. I grabbed her by the throat and began applying pressure.
“Either you stop struggling, or I cut you open right here,” I whispered in her ear.
She immediately stilled, looking up at me with confusion and tears in her eyes. To make my threat clear, I pressed the blade of my hunting knife against her neck.
“We’re going to get up nice and slow now,” I explained, backing away from her but leaving the knife where it was. She swallowed audibly, pushing her comforter down to follow.
“Please,” she barely whispered through trembling lips. Her brown hair was in complete disarray and she was damn near naked.