Fragile Desires (18+) (GxG)

Forty-Three | Bad Girls Get Punished

It's almost like a punishment in the form of a reward, a concept as paradoxical as a rose guarded by thorns as sharp as knives.

The captivating rose sits so perfectly in the Palais Royal gardens.

Its velvet bloom unfurls like a royal secret, its fragrance a siren song on the crisp morning air.

Yet, guarding this treasure is a crown of thorns, each prick a potential punishment for daring to reach for such beauty.

The sting of the thorns isn't just an obstacle, it's a key part of the allure.

It forces respect for the rose's delicate nature, a necessary lesson before one can claim its perfection.

Even the fleeting sting of the rose's thorns, a brush with pain against bare skin, can somehow heighten the intoxicating scent of the bloom.

It leaves me with a memory of the chase, which oddly felt more thrilling than the possession of the prize itself.

Perhaps the pleasure isn't in the reward.

But the punishment—the pain in pricking yourself, just to feel something.

- Azzy

♛Chapter Forty-Three: Bad Girls Get Punished♛

The sight of us through the bathroom mirror nearly took my breath away.

My cheeks were burned crimson and my expression seemed to be a blend of fluster and innocence.

Renata, on the other hand, remained a picture of composure, her posture impeccable and her gaze radiating calmness.

Safe to say, I knew who would be in control tonight.

"May I?" she murmured as her fingers brushed against the zipper of my dress, sending a jolt of anticipation through me.

I nodded before I could think it through, "Of course," I whispered, hoping my sweet tone would get me out of the trouble I seemed to cause.

Renata's response was a contented hum.

And as she gently swept my hair aside, her hand brushed against my neck, sending a jolt of anticipation through me.

But before she could unzip me, she pressed a soft kiss to the back of my neck—and the softness of her lips managed to linger for a moment, causing a beautiful warmth to radiate within me.

Her eyes suddenly met mine through the mirror, "My beautiful princess," she murmured, her voice a raspy whisper that sent shivers cascading down my spine. "What am I going to do with you?"

The heat radiating from my body was almost unbearable—so much so that I instinctively gripped the cold, hard surface of the sink, seeking a grounding anchor among the rising tide of desire.

I suddenly drew in a deep breath when Renata finally reached for the zipper, slowly gliding it down my dress, exposing my back to her touch.

I unconsciously lifted my hands away from the sink to pull the sleeves down—but Renata was quicker.

Her hand, a blur of practiced grace, darted out and intercepted mine, effortlessly guiding the dark fabric down my arms before I could even blink.

Just like that—the dress pooled around my ankles, revealing a vision of pink lace and black stockings that ended tantalizingly at my upper thighs.