Pure White Rose Read online Fawn Bailey (Rose and Thorn #2)

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: 59
Estimated words: 54496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
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“Will you say thank you?” he asked, practically growling with held back passion. “Will you be a good little slut for Master like I taught you?”

“Yes!” I cried out, unable to keep my feelings at bay for much longer. “I promise, a good girl, just for you, I’ll be so good…”

He took a step back as I cried out for him, watching him pick up something off the wall with his back turned towards me. Once he finally turned back, my eyes widened, and my pupils dilated at the sight of him. In his hands, Thorn held a short whip, all black shiny leather.

“No,” I breathed. “No, please.”

I remembered the whip from when Ellis had played with me, and the second I lay my eyes on it, all those memories I’d worked so hard to bury came out to play again. His voice was so clear in my head it might’ve as well been in my ear, and he was snickering, laughing at me as I cried and begged him to stop.

I’d told Thorn he should’ve been the one to train me, but the moment I saw him with that whip in his hands, I changed my mind. I was terrified of him touching me. Shaking, I was so scared. My eyes begged him to stop.

“Remember your manners,” Thorn said gruffly. “You only beg for me to hurt you, not to stop. Say, ‘Yes, Master.’”

“Yes, Master,” I whispered as he drew nearer and nearer, gently slapping the whip over his palm. “Anything you want, Master.”

He touched the leather to my lips, the tassels tickling my chin.

“Beg for me to hurt you,” Thorn told me gently, his voice so much different than Ellis’s.

I’d dreamed of this moment, prayed we would get to this point, yet now that we were standing on the edge, I was afraid to jump. I was afraid my whole world would tumble into the hole before me.

“P-please,” I cried out.

He touched the whip to my nipples.

“Please!” I begged.

“Please, what?” he asked calmly.

“Please…” I took a deep breath. “Please hurt me. Please, Master.”

I didn’t expect the first lashing so fast, but the leather cut into my skin as he slapped me with the whip. I screamed, loudly, unashamedly. It fucking hurt. I turned my angry eyes to him, watching impassively as he twirled the whip in his hands.

“Ask for more,” he told me plainly, and I hated him with every bit of my body.

Still, my mind admitted - only to myself - that the pain hadn’t been quite as unbearable as I’d remembered. Either Thorn was going easy on me, or pain was a different kind of beast at the hands of a man I loved. I shook my head to get the thought out, but there it was, already deeply rooted in my consciousness, reminding me of itself every second I spent looking at my king. Before I could think about it further, Thorn slapped my tits with the whip, and I squealed at the sensation.

“Say it,” he reminded me, transporting me back into my reality. “Say it, slut.”

“More!” I begged. “Please, Master. More.”

And then he truly started hitting me.

My tits, my belly, my legs. He hit every exposed part of me, and because of the way I was put into my restraints, I was unable to resist a single hit. He laughed at me, but I could tell there was worry behind his eyes, and once I realized that, I knew I had him wrapped around my little finger.

The problem was… he had me, too.

He kept hitting, but the pain became bearable knowing that he was holding back, that he was still unable to let go like I’d begged him to a while ago. Suddenly the little devil on my shoulder spoke up, demanding I take action.

“More,” I begged Thorn without being prompted to do so. “Fucking more, Thorn. Give me more.”

His eyes sparkled with surprise, and he hit just a little bit harder. It made me twist in the cuffs and scream his name out loud.

“Fucking hit me!” I demanded. “Hit me like you mean it, you fucking bastard.”

That one stung more, yet it was still there - the unmistakable rigidness in his shoulders, the way he held himself with so much tension it leaked out and pooled at his feet.

“More,” I taunted him.

He tossed the whip aside. He was next to me in the next second, his fingers around my cheeks again and my chest rising impossibly fast as I panicked.

“More?” he asked roughly.

His eyes blazed like I’d never seen them before.

“More,” I confirmed, and he slapped me across the face harder than Ellis had ever dared.

“More?” he asked me again as I picked myself up, staring at him through the tears.

“More,” I begged, and he forced his cock between my legs, parting them with a sticky wet sound as he sank into my center.


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