Her delicate natural scent curled in his sensitive nostrils, floral like her namesake, yet human at the same time – sweat and soap and sweetness. Tomorrow,” she said decisively. There, he took a deep breath, rearranged the swelling in his breaches and composed himself. He’d rather have her condemnation than her silence. He could feel her looking at him as he mopped up the last of his gravy. I stayed up past my bedtime picking your flowers and making inkblot butterflies in your copy of Euclid’s Elements. No warning or ceremony, no punishment or build-up, just a sudden violent fucking. He just had to talk to her calmly sensibly and she would see reason. Rose wouldn’t purposefully bait him. He would terrorise her with his claws and teeth, maul her breasts, choke her and beat her while he stuffed his cock deep into her tight little hole.
