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Last Broken Rose_A Dark Romance

Page 12

by Fawn Bailey


  Now, with only hours separating us from her inevitable fate, I was questioning everything.

  Was this the right thing to do?

  Was she ready to give in so completely?

  Would she let me have every vestige of her control?

  There was no time for questions. I'd already sent Lili and Rose ahead to practice one last time before the performance. I'd hired a theater for the occasion, and only invited friends I respected, and mostly people who knew the lifestyle I was in. Lili would be sitting in the third row, but I'd blocked off the first two for myself. I wanted to be the one with the best view... The one who experienced her final dance so fucking fully I'd never be able to get the thought of her last twirls out of my mind.

  At the same time, I desperately wanted to punish myself for being such a sick fucking bastard. I knew full well Rose didn't deserve to have her ability to dance taken away from her, yet I couldn't help myself - I needed to do it. I was a jealous man, and the thought of her loving anything more than she loved me enraged me. I would take it all away from her. I would hurt and peel back her layers until she was exposed to me in her most genuine form - trembling, delicate, fucking perfection. And then I would love her the way she was meant to be all along.

  Broken.

  A couple of hours later, my driver took me to the theater with only two hours remaining before the performance. I had dwelled on whether I should see my Rose before the dance, and finally decided that I needed to do it. A kiss for good luck, a slap on her face to remind her whom she belonged to.

  I was led into the changing rooms where I found Lili helping my woman with her makeup. Her hair was already up in a tight bun, and Lili had started to apply thick, theatrical makeup to her skin.

  "Stop," I growled, and my sister did as she was told, her hand yielding a brush stopping inches away from Rose's skin. "Leave us."

  She didn't say a word, just put the brush down and left the changing room, leaving us by ourselves. My focus was on Rose however, and I watched her swallow nervously as I approached her, leaning down against her and breathing against her soft skin.

  "You smell like roses," I told her, and she smiled sweetly.

  "The lotion you got me," she explained. "I know you like it."

  "I don't like this," I said, pointing to all the makeup laid out in front of her. "I just want you tonight, Rose."

  "But it won't look as nice," she said softly. "Under those harsh theater lights... I'd look prettier with all that on."

  "I don't give a shit," I told her roughly. "I want that pretty face bare."

  She turned around in her seat until her eyes met mine. She looked as fucking perfect as ever, so submissive, so willing to succumb to my every desire and give me exactly what I wanted from her.

  "I want to fuck you," I told her plainly. "Will you be able to dance after?"

  "If you take care of me," she whispered. "If you don't bruise me..."

  My fists tightened at the sound of her voice, the silent longing for me to actually go through with it. She didn't give a shit whether I hurt her. She craved it as much as I did. But it was more than that. She would take whatever I doled out. She was my willing little victim and I fucking loved it.

  "Get up," I growled, and she did, still wearing her White Swan outfit.

  It was a tutu that showed off her pert little ass, her legs in white tights and pretty white ballet slippers. The bodice she wore was encrusted with shiny stones, shimmering and glittering under the lights. With her face bare like that, she didn't look like a little girl. She looked like a woman... my woman.

  I pushed her back, not gently but not too roughly. With a gasp, her ass landed on the vanity, and I stepped between her legs, proprietorially wrapping my hands around her slender neck.

  "You do look like a swan," I told her. "I can't wait to see the transformation."

  I knew a little about the ballet she'd be dancing that night after doing some research. She was performing two roles that night - first, the White Swan, and after, the Black Swan. Many called it the most challenging role of a dancer's lifetime, but I had no worries about her being unable to perform. She was incredible, and I believed in her completely. My sister had also assured me she was ready mentally, and even though I could sense she was nervous, there was something else bubbling beneath her skin.

  Excitement.

  I felt jealousy taking over. I was an irrational fucking jerk. Jealous of her love for dancing, so damn possessive I wanted to take every last pleasure away from her and replace it with things I enjoyed instead. I wanted her obsessed with me. I wanted every move, every word she spoke to be meant for me and no one else.

  I growled against her lips, kissing her roughly, my stubble scratching her pretty skin.

  "Part your legs wider," I growled at her, my hands greedily rubbing her cunt through the leotard she was wearing. "I want that pussy. Show me how much you need me inside it."

  She mewled, and her hands shook as she undid the buttons holding her costume together. I didn't take her clothes off, merely pushed her fabric off to the side and took my cock out, massaging the thick, throbbing length of it while she slipped two fingers in her pussy. She moaned at the feeling, fucking herself lightly and make me even harder.

  "I won't make it hurt," I promise her, aiming my cock at her entrance.

  But her fingers twined around my wrist, and she made me look up at her before I could enter the heaven between her legs.

  "Please do," she whispered.

  I groaned and pushed inside her, fabric ripping when I fucked her, and she threw her head back. My hand went to her throat and I fucking choked the moans out of her, demanding her gaze to follow mine, desperately watching, hoping, praying for more.

  I fucked her like a madman, which is what she turned me into.

  No other Rose and no other woman had ever made me feel like she did. I'd always been possessive to a fault, but never like this. Never this hell-fucking-bent on making her submit. I wanted her broken. I wanted to piece her back together, so I could do it to her again. And she fucking loved it... Every time I chipped at her she begged for more, and because I was fucking weak, I didn't resist. I just took away from her. Took pieces and chunks and took her mind and made it all mine until she was a plaything... A sexy, smart and needy little slut that would do anything for me.

  This was the moment she chose to look deep into my eyes. She leaned closer, her bottom lip trembling as I pounded inside her, her lips wrapping around my earlobe as she whispered to me.

  All those words she used, every one of them perfectly placed to make me go fucking insane.

  "More, Thorn. More, Master. I love you. I need you. I'm yours. Please fuck me harder. Please hurt me. I'm only yours. No one else will ever touch me. I'd rather die than be with anyone else. Yours. I promise, Master. Yours..."

  I fucked her savagely and she took it all, her eyes adoringly watching mine.

  But something strange happened that evening, something I wasn't expecting.

  I was the one who broke, for the very first time.

  I held onto her because I thought I'd fall apart if I didn't. I fucked her so roughly I knew I'd bruise her, not just from my thrusts but from my fingers digging viciously into her skin. But it was okay, because she held me together. She looked at me with more love I'd ever seen in the whole wide world, and we fused together, became one.

  No toys.

  No torture.

  Just us, fucking, making love, just the two of us in our own little world where I was her Thorn and she was my Rose, and we were the glue that held the other together.

  There was no me without her and there was no her without me. We both knew it, and we held on for dear life to one another. Fucking. Moaning. Coming together.

  She creamed my cock and I came inside her, pulling out the moment I was done and holding my fingers on her pussy to keep her filled up. Her whole body shivered as I buttoned her back up, the cum I'd put inside her spilling and wetting her clothes.
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br />   I didn't give a shit.

  I wanted the whole fucking world to see what I'd done to her.

  She was out of breath, dizzy and scared as I held her to my chest, kissing the top of her head and gently whispering in her ear.

  "You're mine, Harlow Granger," I told her. "Forever."

  I held her until she stopped shaking, and once her eyes connected with mine, I knew I didn't need to say another world. She understood me to my last shitty decision, through the good and the bad. She knew we were bonded, fucking mated. She knew she was mine.

  A timid knock sounded on the door and I barked for them to enter.

  Lili walked inside, looking relieved that we were both clothed.

  "We start in fifteen minutes," she explained apologetically, and I gave my Rose a final smile before letting go of her.

  "I'll see you out there," I told her firmly. "Remember. You're dancing for me. Give it your fucking all, Rose."

  I left them to their own devices and said the necessary hellos as I made my way to the first row.

  The red velvet curtains were drawn and as I sat down on the plush theater chair, I let myself groan out loud, knowing nobody could hear.

  She'd really gotten me wrapped around her finger... And the best thing about my Rose was that she didn't take advantage of it at all. She'd do anything for me and expected nothing in return. But I knew I'd give her the world and then some... Anything for my bright shining star.

  The lights dimmed, and my heart started thumping in my chest. Everyone in the theater quieted down and slowly, so fucking slowly, the curtains parted.

  My Rose, my swan, stood center stage, her eyes turned down. She wore no makeup, and she looked like a fucking masterpiece.

  Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet mine and no one else’s. She smiled shyly, a sweet little tug on the corners of her lips.

  The music started, and we stared at one another, conveying every feeling we had for each other in the matter of seconds.

  She took her first step, never taking her eyes off me.

  She danced like a star.

  Twenty

  Rose

  The music I knew so well filled my ears, my heart and my soul. It was time to dance. It was time to show Thorn what I had learned so he could watch and enjoy my body breaking for him one last time before he took this joy away from me.

  The ballet had been shortened just for me. It meant I was the only dancer on the stage that night - no prince, no other swan maidens. It was all about Odette and Odile, the white and the black swan, one becoming the other and vice versa. I would dance my heart out, and I would make my man prouder than he'd ever been. I couldn't wait to show him what I was capable of.

  At first, I was Odette, the innocent, beautiful princess. The white swan. Graceful beauty, soft gestures, timid, almost scared motions that made me glide all over the stage with my eyes fixated on Thorn. The heavy theater lights were burning my eyes but I didn't care. I wanted him to know I was putting on a show just for him, that out of all the people in that theater, he was the only one that mattered.

  In some way, it felt fitting that I would lose my ability to dance after this last performance which would be my best. After the rigorous training I'd had, I knew I'd never dance better than I did that night. I became the swan princess, I was Odette and I danced like tomorrow would never come, pouring my soul into the princess's moves.

  As I danced, my mind was transported into a moment a long time ago, when I held Mummy's hand as she led me into the opera, pressing a finger to her lips to quieten me down as I jumped up and down with excitement. And just like that, I was reliving the evening that would shape my life forever.

  "Mummy!" I said with exasperation. "We won't be able to see anything from here!"

  My mother flushed in embarrassment as she led us to the entrance that led away from the main seats, up towards a further away area.

  "Shh, darling," she said gently. "Don't make a ruckus. The other seats are too expensive. But you'll see just fine from the ones I got us."

  An older woman passed us and I gave her a beaming smile which she returned. She seemed to hesitate, but just as Mummy and I were about to walk past her, she reached for Mummy's hand.

  "Excuse me," she said, her voice posh and very upper-class. "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation."

  Mummy sighed and laughed nervously, saying, "I'm sorry. My little girl is just a little excited today. This is her first ballet."

  "Understandably excited," the woman winked for her, extending a gloved hand to my mother. "I'm Felicia Van Berg."

  Staring up at them, I couldn't miss the stark difference between the two women. My Mummy, in a coat that was older than I was and with a pretty face that was already lined from hard work. And the other woman, in her expensive clothes and gorgeous jewelry that shone and sparkled under the lights.

  My Mummy introduced herself, and the woman leaned down next to me, giving me a conspiratorial wink.

  "I have something for you," she said mysteriously, reaching into her expensive handbag and pulling out a strange object. "Do you know what these are, little girl?"

  I shook my head no as she placed the object in the palm of my hand.

  "They're opera glasses," she went on. "You use them to see the stage better. See, an old lady like me can't see so well, even right up from the front."

  I laughed just like she did, feeling around for Mummy's hand and holding onto her tightly, my eyes wondrously examining the older woman's face.

  "I think you'll make better use of them tonight," the woman went on, winking again. "And I tell you what. Meet me here after the performance. I'll have a special treat for you."

  With that, she left in a cloud of expensive perfume and her heels clicking on the marble floor. Open-mouthed, I turned towards my mother who looked stricken as she grabbed my hand more tightly and led me to our seats.

  Excitement bubbled in the pit of my stomach as we settled in and I tried on the opera glasses. The lady who'd given them to me was right - I could see much better with those funny things pressed to my eyes.

  I couldn't settle down, the excitement almost too much to bear. Mummy had told me so much about the performance we were about to see, I could almost imagine how incredible it would be. But nothing could have prepared me for what happened on stage moments later.

  The dancers looked incredible, the costumes amazing, glittering and rich in fabrics I wanted to feel between my fingertips.

  I watched them dance, completely mesmerized. I only glanced at Mummy once during the performance, my eyes wide with wonder and hers holding a smile, saying 'I told you so'. She was a big fan of ballet, and I was worried she'd oversold the performance, but seeing it in person, it was everything I'd hoped it would be and so much more.

  The performance took two hours, and by the end of the ballet, I think I was clapping the loudest in the whole theater. I wouldn't shut up about it and Mummy laughed as she led me out of our row of seats.

  "Did you see how the boy twirled her around, Mummy?" I asked excitedly. "She must be light as a feather!"

  "She certainly must be," Mummy laughed. "Come on now, darling, we don't want to miss our train."

  I followed her outside when I remembered what the beautiful woman had told me.

  "Mummy!" I exclaimed. "We're supposed to meet that lady... She told us to wait there before we left."

  I saw the hesitation in my mother's face, and I hated that she had to be suspicious of the kindness of other people. But this was the world we lived in, even all the way back then...

  Finally, she conceded, giving me a small nod and saying, "Alright, let's wait a couple of minutes to see if she shows up, darling."

  Excitedly, I led her to the spot where we were supposed to meet the woman. At first, I couldn't see through the crowd, but when the people started milling about, I saw her.

  Felicia Van Berg, standing in front of a large marble statue, her face lit up with a smile when she saw me.

 
"Hello, little girl," she said affectionately, smiling at my mother. "Did you ladies enjoy the ballet?"

  "Very much so!" I exclaimed. "I'm going to be a ballerina when I grow up, too!"

  "Is that so?" she asked with a smile. "Well, then I might just have the treat for you. Would you like to come with me backstage?"

  My mouth hung open at her words.

  "Where the dancers are?" I asked excitedly, and the lady nodded.

  I turned to face my Mummy, my eyes alight with excitement.

  "Oh Mummy, please!" I begged. "We absolutely have to go!"

  My mother gave a small smile along with a nod, and my little heart soared.

  "If Mrs. Van Berg is alright with that," she said. "We would love to come."

  The woman laughed out loud, saying, "Please, call me Felicia. And I'm still a Miss, as far as I know. Franco!"

  A man appeared out of nowhere, and I watched in wonder as she hooked her hand in his. He was much, much younger, younger even than my Mummy, whom he was now eyeing appreciatively. But he was with Felicia... Maybe they were married? The way she held onto him, they must have been.

  Mummy and I followed them down a stairway and through a door that led into the changing rooms. Right away, we were in the middle of chaos, shouting, loud voices and giggling. There were half-naked boys and girls everywhere, and I giggled myself as they made way for Felicia.

  She introduced me to every single one of the swan maidens, to the prince, and finally, to the main dancer, Odette-Odile.

  I was shaking when I got to meet her, and she was as beautiful up close as she was from afar. She gave me a tight hug and plucked a lily from her bouquet, handing it to me.

  "A good luck charm," she winked at me. "Maybe one day, you'll be a dancer like me."

  It filled my heart and head with so many dreams I didn't even dare say a word.

  I spent an incredible hour backstage with Felicia, her boyfriend and Mummy. By the time we left, I was ecstatic and filled with new ideas about my future.

 

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