Every Rose Has It's Thorn

Every Rose Has It's Thorn Pt 7

Word Count: 1,078

Nothing could have gotten me to sleep after my conversation with JP. By the time I tired of staring at the white ceiling it was just a few minutes past 5 am. Every part of me was tired but it was my mind that was causing me the most trouble. I hadn’t been able to stop replaying JP’s description of Colson in my head. Would I even be aware if Colson had manipulated me into sleeping with him? The emptiness I’d held inside me for so many years only seemed to have been filled whilst I was with Colson, that in itself sounded like a ridiculous concept as I spun it around in my mind.

 

I thrust my legs out from beneath the covers and decided to shower; perhaps the hot water would wash away the sins that had been written across my skin by Colson’s touch. I stepped inside the shower, catching a glimmer of my reflection in the mirror on the wall opposite. My eyes roamed over the two scars on my back – they spread the length of my shoulder blades, shining the pearlescent silver of scar tissue.

 

“What if someone sees them and asks what they are?” I asked, my voice small and insecure as I wrapped the warm towel around my shoulders, desperately trying to cover up the pink scars.

“Well if anyone asks you what they are, you just tell them,” My mother replied with a comforting smile, “They’re just another part of your story and what’s the point in a story if you keep it a secret, hm?” Her dark hair fell in curtains, framing her round face. I searched her eyes for any sign of worry but found nothing but love staring right back at me. With a bolt of confidence, I peeled the towel off and took her hand as she led me towards the swimming pool.

My eyes opened on the scars once again as I desperately wished I could reach them; I wanted to run my fingers across the bumpy tissue just like my mother used to. She told me that they were the result of an accident as a toddler, “You needed so many stitches, it was awful, yet you never made a sound. I think I cried more than you did,” she had told me one day, I don’t know why I hadn’t questioned her more about the accident…but I was a child, she was my mother, I trusted her.

 

I washed slowly, letting the scalding water pour down over my tired muscles, the sensation acting as the perfect distraction. Afterwards, I dressed in jeans and a shirt, making no effort to dry my hair or apply even the slightest bit of make-up. Dark circles were surrounding my eyes and my light hair fell in lazy, damp waves around my face and over my shoulders – leaving a wet patch on my shirt.

Wherever I was, it didn’t look familiar. It was a room of some sort, long and dark with bare brick walls and a dirty floor. No matter how many steps I made, I couldn’t seem to get any closer to the other side.

“Is there a reason you chose this place?” A familiar voice whispered against my ear, cool breath running over my neck. I resisted the urge to turn around, recognising the voice immediately.

“Did I have a choice?” I asked, suddenly aware of Colson’s hand as it moved to latch around my waist.

“You always have a choice, little bird,” He replied, placing a featherlight peck on my jaw. I closed my eyes, trying to find somewhere in my mind more pleasing to the eye. Within seconds I could feel sunlight on my face, the heat a welcome contrast to the chill of Colson’s skin.

“There we go,” He purred, pressing himself against my back. The dark room had vanished, replaced by a meadow I remembered well.

“My parents used to bring me here,” I said, struggling to concentrate with Colson’s hands roaming closer and closer to the waistband of my jeans. With expert fingers he pulled the button free and lowered the zip, allowing himself access to slip into my underwear.

“This is a dream,” My voice was breathless, the words intended only for myself.

“A good dream, I hope,” The tips of fingers curled against my clit, moving in torturously slow circles. I leaned back against him, inhaling a lungful of his scent; a mixture of weed and cinnamon Colson. His free hand moved to slip inside my shirt, easing into my bra until he was pinching at my nipple. The sounds that were coming from between my lips seemed so distant, my eyes transfixed on the shuffling of leaves on the trees. I could feel my arousal soaking through my underwear, just a moments touch from Colson and already my insides were quivering, yearning to feel the fullness of him inside me.

“You need to be careful, little bird,” Colson’s voice seemed almost further away now yet his fingers were still rubbing against my slick folds, his pace quickening until I thought my legs might buckle.

“Careful of you?” I asked between desperate moans.

Colson laughed, a surprisingly natural sound that only edged me closer to release, “That would be wise…but I didn’t mean me,” He grasped his palm against my breast with such force that I yelped, his rhythmic motions against my throbbing bud unstoppable despite my writhing. A loud knocking penetrated my ears and for a moment I wondered if it was my heartbeat – but it continued to grow louder and louder.

“Here they come,” Colson’s lips muttered against my neck as his teeth grazed against my flesh. The noise continued, a banging that shook the very earth we were standing on. Yet I didn’t care, the ground could have fallen from beneath my feet but it couldn’t stop the orgasm as it hit me, sending electric shocks throughout my entire body as I quivered against Colson’s hand.

 

My eyes shot open; my heart was caught in my throat and I could feel the remainder of my orgasm beating against my moistened underwear. The sound hadn’t been that of the earth disintegrating beneath me – but instead the sound of someone knocking furiously against the door of my room. My breath halted in my lungs as the door burst open, three agents stood, guns clasped in their hands. I barely had time to scream.