PETALS AND THORNS Read Online Free PDF

next and if it would occur to her to resist.
    Amarantha watched through a blur. He eased her down on the silken sheets.
    Taking her wrists, he drew them above her head and tied them gently with the wide, powder blue satin ribbons streaming from the wooden headboard.
    The ribbons didn't pull too tight. She could bring her hands down a bit, but not to cover herself. When the Beast drew up the covers, Amarantha sighed in relief.
    The Beast chuckled.
    “Just so that you can continue to stew in your juices. We have many nights ahead of us. That was enough for this one. We can explore further delights tonight.
    Good night, my love. You have pleased me beyond expectation.”
    One by one the candles winked out, and he moved to the door.
    “My lord?”
    The Beast turned back to her.
    “Which part was play and which part my punishment?”

    25

    “Why, Amarantha, darling”—she could hear the broad smile in his voice—“if you don't know, how can I?”
    With that he closed the door, and Amarantha fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

    * * *
Amarantha woke in the afternoon. She judged by the slant of the light. She lay there for a moment, taking in the dramatic sweep of the room, the golden puddles of sunshine, and the bruised ache of her body. The night had left her drained yet somehow brewing with anticipation. She felt every inch of her body in a way she never had before. As if she'd somehow come alive.
    The way the Beast had tormented her, his relentless attention and reverent stimulation of just one part of her. Even as Amarantha flinched at the brush of the sheets against her tender skin, she found herself wondering what the night would bring.
    She couldn't possibly look forward to it.
    To put an end to her thoughts, Amarantha dragged herself out of the delicious bed, just realizing the ribbons had fallen away from her wrists. The short robe waited for her, and the invisible servants had whisked away her scattered clothes.
    On a table under the window sat a platter with tea and sandwiches, pastries, fruit, and cheese. Suddenly ravenous, Amarantha grabbed a sandwich square—which proved to be a savory cress with cream cheese—and wolfed it down as she poured a cup of tea.
    Curling one leg under her, Amarantha sat in the cozy armchair, soaking up the sunlight and trying each pastry and sandwich. Her mind drifted back to how the Beast had fed her dinner the night before, bite by bite, for hours on end. She opened the window, and sweet, fresh air—unseasonably warm—flowed in like a blessing.
    It helped to clear her mind of the frightening, sensual cobwebs.

    26

    Brushing crumbs off her hands, Amarantha went to clean up and dress for a walk in the garden. Not much of the day remained, and if the Beast intended to spend the entire night playing his games again, she'd best get her head as clear as possible.
    Shucking the robe, Amarantha took a deep breath and faced herself in the mirror. Her invisible friends had cleaned her face during the night. She could only imagine how the cosmetics had smeared and blurred with her thrashings and tears.
    Her breasts…didn't seem all that bad. They no longer looked so red, though the nipples stood out in crimson irritation. Her skin was pale and smooth except for the long scratches curving out from the bases of her breasts and converging on her nipples, as if pointing them out.
    Which Amarantha suspected the Beast had intended all along.
    A jar of cream sat prominently next to the washbasin. Amarantha took the hint and smoothed it into her breasts. It felt lovely and wonderfully cooling. And smelled of roses.
    A lavender gown that seemed reasonably modest hung on a hook in the bathroom. No underthings, but at this point, she wouldn't quibble. As long as she didn't have to walk in the garden naked, pretty much anything else seemed just fine in comparison.
    She drew on the gown. No invisible help presented itself, and she didn't need it. The skirt flowed long and clean, clinging to her