Blood Red Rose Read online Fawn Bailey (Rose and Thorn #1)

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: 61
Estimated words: 56208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
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“She doesn’t even know you, Thorn,” she spat out at me. “How are you going to make her love you when she doesn’t even know she’s here for you?”

“You leave that up to me, Pia,” I snarled back, shutting the door firmly behind her.

But the thought lingered, and the question imprinted itself on my mind.

My obsession with making her love me… it was insane. It was the desire of a madman, yet one I couldn’t let go of. Usually I didn’t give a shit if my submissives gave a fuck about me in the romantic sense, but ever since I’d met her, the thought of making Harlow Granger fall for me persisted, making me do rash things I would come to regret in the future.

Yet I couldn’t stop myself.

I knew the only way I would truly own her was to make her fall in love.

And I would stop at nothing until I saw the look of pure adoration in her pretty young face.

8

Harlow

For days, I didn’t leave my bed.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened in that room with the man I only knew as Sir. What he’d forced me to do, and how he’d made me enjoy it, too. I wanted to hate him for it, yet it seemed almost impossible to blame him for how my body had responded. Guilt and shame threatened to swallow me up whole as the mute maid led me back to my room that night.

I’d been told by the man I was allowed to leave my room, spend some time with the other girls and get to know everyone. But after what he’d done to me, I found myself unwilling to venture outside again. For the first time since I’d been taken, I felt broken, useless. Like I would never get the drive back, the desire to run away from their perverted empire and to live a life of my own again.

Flashes of memories of that day still took over my mind at the most random moments. Him, forcing his cock into my mouth and making me swallow his cum. Stroking my hair as he jerked off into my mouth, making me strip down for him and watching my body with hungry, wolf-like eyes that told me he wanted to do so much more to me. And I was afraid of it – afraid of him and what he was capable of, because I had a feeling this was just the tip of a terrible iceberg, and he had plenty more horrors to unleash on me.

It wasn’t that I felt sore or hurt. It was more the violation, what he’d done to my body when I was powerless to resist it. I hated him for it and for having control over me when every instinct in my body was fighting his touch, his caresses and the sweet nothings he whispered in my ear when he took my mouth like it had always belonged to him.

I thought about my previous life too often, torturing myself with images of my smiling friends. Carina and Amber, even Madame’s frown as she made me work harder. I thought about Mummy a lot. I never thought about my father. He’d written me off a long time ago.

On the fourth day of my self-imposed isolation, the door opened somewhere between lunch and dinner, and the woman I’d met a week ago walked in.

I turned my glassy eyes towards her. Part of me hated the fact that she was the one to come check up on me. Why not the man who had abused me? Shouldn’t he be the one to put the final nail in my coffin, after he’d used and then discarded my body like it was worth absolutely nothing? Yet I didn’t question it, didn’t say a word to Pia. I was too tired, weary from what seemed to be the new normal.

“Hello,” she said in her melodic, beautiful voice. “I heard you’ve been feeling a little under the weather.”

I didn’t respond, just looked at the floor while she pulled up the chair from my vanity and sat next to my bed.

“Somehow, with all this rest you’re getting, you still manage to look tired,” she sighed, and I opened my mouth to tell her to fuck off, but she interrupted me. “The first time is always hard. It’s not always pleasant. Many of the girls don’t consent. And I understand how confusing it is to actually like what’s being done to you.”

I hated that she was right, but instead of arguing with her about that, I chose another topic.

“How would you know?” I asked softly. “You have no idea what it’s like.”

“You don’t think I went through this?” she asked me.

She lifted her leg to show me the mark on her ankle. I’d seen the tattoo before when the maid had taken me through the main living area. All the other girls seemed to have it. The small black tattoo of a coiled snake on their ankle. I hated it. Hated the thought that I would probably be forced to get one, too.


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