Fallen Petal Read online

  “Why do you look at me like that?” she wants to know.

  I furrow my eyebrows. “Like what?”

  “Like you’re afraid of me,” she says, the expression on her face hardening.

  Fuck. How on Earth can she tell?

  “This is what you wanted, no?” she probes, approaching me with one deliberate step, and coming so close we almost stand skin against skin. I resist the urge to move away from her, if only to refuse her the satisfaction of seeing how right she really is.

  “You said you wanted to train me, to own me, to punish me,” she says, hissing the words as she stands so close that I can feel her breath on my chest. She doesn’t look angry, but the way she speaks makes me think of a snake.

  “So, tell me. Why would you look at me like that?”

  I shake my head, arching an eyebrow as I lock her into place with my unyielding gaze.

  “My dear Petal, you need to remember your place.”

  “Or else?” she pokes, tilting her head to the side.

  I cast her a quick glance before pointing toward the door behind me. “You miss that basement?”

  It’s almost too easy. She responds in an instant, taking a step back as she regards me through wide eyes, unable to hide the fear scurrying across her face.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  I move past her, ignoring her questioning gaze while I turn on the faucet of the bathtub.

  “This may hurt a little, because of your fresh cuts. But we’ll be careful.”

  “We?” She steps closer, hugging herself as if she suddenly became aware of her own nakedness. “Are you going to... take a bath with me?”

  I don’t respond right away but revel in her curiosity. The look on her face is beautiful beyond description, a blend of insecurity and hope, equally intimidated and happy about the prospect. It’s an expression I’ve seen on her face before.

  Chapter 7

  J

  There are hundreds of young faces, beaming with hope and accomplishment as they strut around in their silly robes. The idyll is almost sickening, the sun shining, kids smiling, parents bursting with pride.

  But none of them shine as bright as she does. The smile on her face is not as wide as others, because it never is. But it isn’t insincere either. I know she’s happy today, as happy as she can be.

  Because today marks the first step toward freedom for her, both positive and negative. She may finally have the freedom to do as she pleases, to follow a dream she’s had for years—if she dares to go through with it. I hope she will. I will do everything in my power to make sure that she will, even if it means losing her forever. Because this freedom is also a freedom from the shackles that have held her back almost her entire life, restraints that have been out on her by men.

  And I might be one of those men, unless I fucking get over myself and ignore the piercing pain that rips through my chest when I think about not being able to see her anymore. It is for the better. It’s better for her.

  I must remember that.

  The smile she casts my way now is as bittersweet as they come. She’s far away from me, like she almost always is, standing next to the stage where they just handed out diplomas to all the high school graduates. I sat in the audience, watching as she received hers, hidden in the far, far back, almost at the very last row, but clapping louder than anyone else when she was called on stage. I could see her scan the audience after she accepted her diploma, and it fills me with egocentric pride knowing that she was looking for me. Her father was sitting in one of the rows up front, very close to the stage, very close to her. Her eyes trailed over to him once, a coy response to his unyielding eyes.

  She’s by herself right now, and she spotted me all the way across the auditorium. Her hands tighten around the diploma, and even though my looks tells her not to, she approaches me. I notice that she casts a look back over her shoulder before she does, making sure that no one sees her, that no one will stop her doing as she pleases.

  Her steps widen and she speeds up, almost running toward me as the smile on her face widens.

  I’m torn between elevation and concern. She’s so fucking happy to see me. She’s drawn to me just like I’m drawn to her.

  No, that part isn’t true. Her attraction to me doesn’t come close to the way I feel about her.

  “I’m so happy you’re here!” She beams up at me, getting up on her toes as she wraps her arms around my neck.

  I hesitate before I reciprocate the gesture, knowing there might be eyes on us, even if we’re not seeing them at the moment. Once I lift my arms in an embrace, it’s a cautious gesture, not even close to what every fiber of my being desires.

  She gasps in my hug, and for just a few seconds, we’re allowed a moment of tenderness. The busy world gets drowned out. It’s just the two of us, in the dark, no sound, no eyes, no other people judging and staring, just waiting for the right moment to tear us apart.

  But I know it’s a lie. I know they’re there.

  I break our embrace, gently pushing her away from me to create distance between us. She lets it happen, nervously fixing her hair as she smiles up at me. Today is a big milestone for her, a major step from restrained childhood to adulthood, which will hopefully be marked by more freedom than she’s ever known. Still, she looks young today, so young and innocent, tickling my protective instinct even more than she usually does.

  “I told you I wouldn’t miss this,” I say, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure that we’re blessed with a few moments alone. Of course she notices.

  “He’s gone back to the car to get something for me,” she says, winking at me. “Jayson, would you stop worrying. It’s not like there’s a restraining order or anything.”

  I huff. “Might as well be.”

  She clears her throat, looking uncomfortable as she lowers her gaze.

  “I’m eighteen. I graduated. Everything will change now,” she says in a low voice before tilting her face back up to mine. “Right?”

  “If you want it to.”

  A thin crease appears between her eyebrows. “You know I do. But I need your help. You’re the only one who—”

  “I know,” I cut her off. “And I will. You have my word, Petal.”

  A blush creeps on her pretty face, warming her sweet smile as she’s faced with our little secret. It’s just a name, a pet name I’ve given her years ago, but in a way, it’s the most sacred thing we have between us. No one knows about it, and no one ever uses that name for her but me.

  And every time I do, she responds with this smile. A smile full of gratitude and the feeling of belonging. I’m the only one who can make her smile like that, the only one who can give her that happiness. Yet, I might never be allowed to give it my all.

  “I might never be able to pay you back, Jayson,” she says, worry flickering across her pretty features. “I’ll be forever in your debt.”

  Oh, she has no fucking idea. She will never know that it’s the other way around. Without her, I wouldn’t be who I am today. My wealth, my success, the power that comes with my name—all of it is thanks to her. That, and a memory so precious, that it will forever feed me and enrich a life that would be bleak if it wasn’t for her.

  She doesn’t know, and it’s best if she never does.

  “We shouldn’t talk about this here,” I say, realizing that my time with her is coming to an end. Because I see him approaching from afar, and not just him.

  She nods, pressing her lips together as her gaze follows mine, forcing her to turn away from me.

  Robert and Christopher are marching toward us in wide strides, both of them with an intense expression on their face. Christopher is wearing the same navy colored gown she is wearing, and just like her, he’s holding his diploma rolled up in his hand, looking visibly upset about the fact that she took the first chance to get away and talk to me as soon as it presented itself.

  They come to a halt in front of me, wedging her between the two of them as if they
were trying to protect her. And I’m pretty sure they both think that’s what they’re doing.

  “Mr. Bowlan. Didn’t think you’d be here today,” Robert says, being awkwardly formal.

  “He just dropped by to congratulate me,” she interferes, casting her father a warning look from the side. “He’s just being nice.”

  “And congrats to you, too,” I add, nodding in Christopher’s direction. “Big day for you guys.”

  Christopher reciprocates my nod. “Thanks.”

  He has always been better at hiding his disdain toward me, and I know why that is. He knows that I’m important to her, and you never win a woman’s heart by hurting the ones she loves. He has never been as hostile toward me as Robert has, even though his dislike is no less strong.

  However, his rather peaceful attitude might change rather sooner than later.

  “Shall we?” he asks, turning toward her. “The others are waiting.”

  “Yes, you should be going and join your friends,” Robert adds, casting me a dark look from the side.

  Her eyes go back and forth between them, before locking onto mine again. An apologetic smile spreads across her face, and as always, it’s spiced with the allure of secrecy.

  “Thank you for coming, Jayson,” she says. “It means a lot to me.”

  Robert and Christopher can’t stop themselves from exchanging an exasperated look. I try to ignore it, as I always do, but I can’t help my fury from hissing deep inside. Why would they not let her have this? Just another person to love her, to protect her, to guide her, to show her that she’s not alone in this world.

  It’s bad enough that her mother can’t be here for any of this. That loss left a void, running deep through the core of Petal’s soul, a cruelty that is part of her more than anything else.

  But they don’t know.

  And how could they?

  They aren’t the ones who stared into her abyss.

  I am.

  Chapter 8

  Petal

  The hot water stabs at my wounded skin. The burn is so strong in the beginning that it makes me want to jump out of the bathtub before I’m even fully immersed. But it gets better with every moment I spend in the warm water, surrounded by soothing mountains of cloudy soap that smell of lavender and citrus.

  He’s with me, next to the bathtub, watching as I slowly make my way into piercing heat that will soon turn into a calming embrace. It’s the first time I’m ever allowed to see him like this, naked and just as exposed as I am. He emits power and dominance when he’s dressed—usually in all black—and none of that fades now that he’s only in his tanned skin. He looks like a wild animal, feral and strong, with a muscular body that has been sculpted by hard work. His chiseled chest is as smooth as his strong jaw, only a hint of black hair trailing down the area below his belly button. His accented pelvis muscles slope down in a V-shape, culminating at his core, where his cock still stands massive and erect.

  “I’m not done with you,” he growls, his dark eyes resting on me as I slowly lower myself into the hot water.

  He follows as soon as I’m sitting, the water reaching up my boobs and covering the entire area on my back that has been marked by him. I grimace at the burn that throbs through all across my back, down to my ass and my upper thighs. It’s so fierce at first, but soon calms, like the breath of an athlete once the challenge is completed.

  The water level rises when he joins me with such speed that it almost seems as if he’s afraid of changing his mind. I’m hugging myself on instinct, feeling weirdly exposed. This feels so much more intimate than anything we’ve done so far, but it shouldn’t. It’s just a bath. How could it ever compare to what happened in that room?

  I can feel the warmth on my cheeks as I recall those moments. I didn’t recognize myself. I was loud, I was wild, I was so needy. He hurt me like he’s never hurt me before. The pain was blinding, a torment that has no equal—until it wasn’t. What happened? Why did I cry for him to continue when just a few moments before I didn’t want anything other than for him to stop?

  This is so twisted.

  “Come here.”

  His demand is followed by a strong grip on my upper arms. He lifts me, causing the water to spill over the edge of the tub as he pulls me close to him, beckoning for me to straddle him.

  “Sit on it.”

  My eyes dart back and forth between him and his hard member beneath the water surface. I reach forward, closing my hands around his girth, evoking a moan from him when I gently stroke up and down his length. He closes his eyes, throwing his head back and diving deeper into the water while the expression on his face softens. He looks so elated, so beautiful and calm. I have never seen his face like that. Until now, I didn’t even think he could look this way, so beautifully innocuous.

  I gasp in surprise when he reaches down to my hips, waking a new set of waves when he hauls me on his lap, leaving no room for caution or reconsideration. A deep groan flees my lips when he impales me on his length, stretching my sore core as he pushes me all the way down in one go. His eyes fly open the moment he’s buried inside me, seeking mine.

  “Fuck, Petal,” he breathes, wetting my face as he holds it in a tight grip between his hands. “You have no idea how long...”

  His eyes flicker angrily as he forces himself to stop speaking.

  And there’s something else in his expression, something I haven’t seen before either.

  Pain. Pain so deep that it’s palpable just by looking at him now.

  Why is he in pain? Did I do this to him? Is this what I’m being punished for?

  Then again, this is not a punishment, is it?

  You’re here because you want to be here.

  But why?

  “You’re right,” I whisper. “I have no idea. About anything.”

  The look he gives me in response suggests that he notices the reproach in my voice, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he lets go of my face, his fingertips grazing along the sides of my body with a sensual tickle as he lowers them down to my hips again.

  “How does this feel?” he asks, pinching into the flesh around my hips as he urges me to move my core. “Tell me Petal, how does your master feel inside you?”

  A blissful sigh flees my lips, and it’s just as treacherous as the circling motions of my hips as I accommodate his size deep inside me.

  “Right,” I say, surprising myself with an answer as honest as this. “It feels right.”

  He nods, intensifying his grip on me while a smile plays at the corners of his mouth.

  “So did the pain, didn’t it?” he probes.

  I bite my lower lip, my eyes locked on to his as I nod silently. What he says is as spot-on as it is confusing. How did he know it would be like this? How did he know I’d beg him for more instead of crying in relief once the torture was over?

  As always, his words only provide part of the answer.

  “You’re strong, Petal,” he says. “Stronger than I thought. I never thought you’d crave it this much.”

  “Never,” I repeat, casting him a dark look. “You can use that word, while I... I have no concept for it, no memories to base it on.”

  The expression on his face tenses and he furrows his eyebrows, knowing that I’m about to divert our conversation in a direction he prefers to avoid.

  “You have all of that,” I go on. “A past. An understanding of yourself. Memories. Maybe even memories of us, together?”

  I choose my words with care, observing the reaction on his face as I voice that last sentence, searching for anything that could give me a clue about the accuracy of my assumption.

  But he doesn’t give me anything. There’s no flicker, no crease, no smile or even a twitch. He just looks at me with that same controlled tension, leaving no hint that could validate my conjecture.

  But he doesn’t shut me down either.

  “How well did you know me before you brought me here?” I probe, daring to take it a step further
. Questions. I have so many of them, but every time I voice just a single one, he pushes me back. Except for that one time when I asked about the sea. It was the first and only time I got a straight answer out of him.

  Maybe this could be the second?

  My hope is feeble, and when he responds, I scold myself for stirring any hope in the first place.

  “What makes you think I knew you at all?” he asks, swaying his head to the side as he throws me a condescending smile.

  Oh, you knew me. You must have, because I knew you.

  I know, because the girl in the video said so. She obviously knew who you are, and she told me to trust you. She said I wanted to be with you, like this. She wouldn’t have said any of this about a stranger now, would she?

  I want to tell him. I’m almost bursting with anger and the desire to make his head explode if I share my knowledge with him. I want to see the expression on his face when he finds out, when he realizes I only let him play with me like this, because I knew I wasn’t in any real danger.

  Or am I?

  And is it true that I let him? Wasn’t I the one who begged him not to stop? Wasn’t I the one who begged him to fuck me?

  In any case, I can’t tell him. I promised her I wouldn’t. And if I did, she’d be the one to get in trouble, not me. I can’t do that to her, not after what she did for me, albeit she only gave me an inch when I’m asking for thousands of miles.

  “It was just an assumption,” I say, lowering my head in apparent defeat. It’s a show for his benefit. He likes to see me in this place, down below, in submission to him and his will. It softens him—and it makes him vulnerable.

  There’s one thing I could worm out of him, a detail that may seem minor but could bring light to my darkness, just like the white rose, and the girl in the video. I just need to be careful when choosing my words. This is a tricky one.

  I can’t simply ask him for his name, because he already told me what I am to call him.

  It’s hard to stop the smile from tugging at the corners of my mouth when I seek his hazel eyes and the question rolls off my tongue with unpredictable ease.