Unopened Rose 소설 & 이야기

Jayden flips her folds with his right thumb, his other hand caressing her plum breast. She whimpers, her back arcing upward. She’s so sensitive, Jayden realized. “Did she tell you how stubborn we are?” he asked, applying pressure on her clit, teasing her with his calloused thumb. “Did she tell you that once we like someone, we never ever leave them alone?” he smacked her breast lightly. Rita, helpless and sore, cries out. It’s hard to discern the cry. Is it from pleasure or helplessness? She—’

“Only good little humans get to cum, Rose.” I wiped my mouth furiously and glared at him as he admired my flushed body. “I don’t want you to make me cum. I don’t want you touching me ever again!” “Careful what you wish for,” he smirked. “Now get dressed. I have the perfect task for you today.” ೋღ🌹ღೋ

Jeffrey got up and jumped up and down to get there. He thought the flowers had bloomed, and I was back. But how could a rose that was uprooted bloom? He opened the iron gate of the rose garden and found that the land was loose. He saw Joanna holding a small hoe, squatting on the ground, and plowing bit by bit. "Look, Jeffrey, I want the roses I planted to bloom all over the garden." Without waiting for him to respond, Joanna, who was wearing high fashion and exquisite makeup-, hugged him. "Happy? Besides Audrey, I can also plant roses for you."

"She deserved it! She was so terrified with the rabid dogs barking all around her, even sending a voice message where she was crying so pathetically!" Hearing that, my departed soul turned away, smiling miserably. He was the one who had said he loved me, promising to protect me for the rest of my life and vowing that no one would get to lay a finger on me. He had smiled at me so lovingly when he passed me the black rose seeds. "It is believed that black roses embody a deep and timeless love, just like the love I share with you." Yet, he had a change of heart and loved Lara instead, believing her one-sided claims that I had led a workplace ostracising campaign against her.

He carried a large bouquet of roses and looked at me with a mix of regret and longing. "I was blind, Rosie. It felt like I was living in a dream before. Now that I've woken up, I realize I can't live without you." The set fell silent as everyone turned to watch. Allen had no shame declaring this in front of so many people. I felt thankful for having eaten lightly that morning; at least I had not thrown up yet. Allen continued his self-absorbed speech, "Can you give me another chance? Let's start over. We were engaged after all—"

“You okay, bro?” “Never better. Take a closer look at this rose. What do you see?” I asked him, waving the half-dead burnt flower in his face. “Just a burnt flower and an odd cousin. Are you sure you are, ok? You don’t seem so” He was being overly concerned. I walked around the table and ended up standing right in front of him. “Take a second look!” I insisted in an even more persuasive tone. “Okay, I’ll help you a little. This burnt flower, as you call it, is my next victim,” I explained as I lasciviously stroked the burnt velvet petals.

The photo scandal had died down a little—my savage comeback video had shifted the narrative—but people still watched. When I opened the locker door, a burst of color tumbled out. Roses. Dozens of perfect, velvety red roses, tied with a silk ribbon that felt like liquid against my fingers. No card. No note. Just the flowers, their scent thick and intoxicating—sweet nectar mixed with that deep, earthy rose perfume that made my head spin. I smiled, gathering them up and burying my face in the petals. The softness brushed my cheeks, cool and silky, the fragrance flooding my senses like a drug. Classic Roy, or maybe Ryan being extra.

Marcus glanced up from his computer. "Ooh, whose the admirer?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face. "Shut up," I laughed, but my cheeks flushed with pleasure. I carefully untied the simple white ribbon, my fingers fumbling with anticipation. I lifted the lid. And my smile died. Nestled inside against a bed of stark white tissue paper weren't roses or tulips. They were flowers I'd never seen before. A deep, bruised purple, almost black. The petals were waxy and sharp, the stems twisted and thick with thorns. They looked... violent.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door. He greeted me with a single, perfectly formed rose, its petals a rich, velvety crimson, and a gentle peck on the cheek, his lips soft against my skin. I took the proffered gift, the stem cool against my fingers, and brought it to my nose, inhaling the sweet, delicate scent of the bloom, a small moment of beauty in the chaos.

“You’re very eager for me to open a mystery box.” She laughed. “Well, now I want to know what’s inside.” I shook my head and reached for the lid. I lifted it. My smile disappeared. Inside the box were long-stemmed red roses. A lot of them. For a second, I just stared at them. Then I noticed something wrong. Every single rose was dead. They weren’t just a little wilted. Not slightly dried out. Dead. The petals had lost their color and hung limp against the stems. Some had already fallen loose inside the box.