One rose. On her pillow.

It was an invitation.

It’s velvety red seeping into the white cotton.

He’d left the thorns.

She touched the tip of one, pressing her flesh into it until it punctured the skin.

Slowly.

As she closed her eyes, she saw him rising above her, his biceps taut, his jaw set, his brow strong.

She felt the blood before she saw it.

Lips parting, sigh of release escaping, she licked her lips and then inserted her finger into her mouth, sucking at the metallic, salty flavor or herself.

She looked down at the rose.

Beside it, a single dot of crimson that would fade to black by the time he came home.

She decided to leave it.

A sort of RSVP to his request.

Yes, my love.

I will bleed for you.

Wicked Wednesday

5 Replies to “Thorns”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Are you 18 or older? This website contains material that is not suitable for readers under the age of 18. Please verify your age to view the content, or click "Exit" to leave.
%d bloggers like this: