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hearing the sounds Rose was making. “Fuck, so fucking hot, gorgeous, so good, good little slut, just taking it, Dear Lord, Rose,” Brent groaned.
    His knuckles rotated slightly in the constricted space, as he fisted his cock with his other hand, fast and furious as Rose mewled and tightened around his hand. It didn’t take much longer for Brent to come, too, coating Rose’s thighs and stomach with thick, white cum.
    Rose moaned, her head floating in the hazy cloud of post orgasmic bliss, her body quivering slightly with aftershocks. She felt wrung out and used, covered in both, Brent’s fist keeping her open and on edge. Every time Brent’s knuckles hit her spot, a moan fell from her bitten, bruised lips.
    “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out and needy,” Brent rasped, nuzzling the curve of Rose’s neck with his stubble. She garbled out a strangled moan, her legs spasming in their restraints. The edge of the scarf was brushing on tender skin, leaving raised, red marks. Brent bowed over her body, slowly edging out his fist as he licked the underside of her knee, grinning to himself when she yelped and kicked out wildly.
    Brent grabbed a wash cloth and cleaned Rose up while she came down from the high, her limbs like marshmallow underneath him.
    After he was done, he undid the restraints around her ankles and hands and collapsed next to her in bed. Time passed in a trickle like sand through an hourglass, and if Brent had kept true to his word about fucking this girl unconscious, he had to admit he wasn’t that far behind.
    Normally, Brent would have bounced from the bed the moment he came, made for the shower and disappeared without a word. Yet, this time, that didn’t happen at all. He figured it must’ve been the monumental orgasm he just had, and how tired it made him. Instead, he laid his head on the pillow, tugging Rose’s warm, sated body against his own and allowing sleep to pull him under.
     

Chapter 6
     
     
    “So, how did it go?” were the first words out of Wes’s mouth the next morning, when Rose ambled down the stairs with a very, very uncomfortable step and a loopy grin on her mouth.
    She twisted her hair and looked sheepishly at the tips of her shoes, last night’s clothes hanging loose on her.
    “It… um. I’m glad I have the week off, because I think I will spend most of it recovering.”
    Wes beamed brightly at her. “That’s awesome.”
    Rose looked away, clearly a little bit uncomfortable, not only physically. “Wes, uh… how… how well do you know Brent?”
    Wes caught something in her tone, and he moved from where he was restocking the bar to guide Rose toward one of the booths.
    “Not so well, but as well as anyone, I guess,” he said, sliding on the padded bench and biting his cheek not to smile as Rose very slowly and carefully edged her way in, grimacing all the way through.
    “I just… I never…” she stuttered and broke off. “I mean. Okay. It’s just… I don’t know what the etiquette for this sort of things is. I mean, what do I do now?”
    Wes blinked. “Well, whatever you want?”
    “Oh.”
    There was something missing. Damn it, where was Zenobia when Wes needed her? She was the sensitive one and could handle this situation so much better than him.
    “Do you want to see him again?”
    “Yes! I mean…I don’t. Or, I do, but… I don’t know if he wants to.”
    Wes rubbed one hand over the back of his neck. “Brent isn’t famous for doing relationships,” he said, as gently as he could. “Did you guys talk about it last night?”
    “We… um. We fell asleep, and this morning…” she started to say as she blushed deep red and bit her lower lip, eyes skating downwards.
    “What?”
    “We… um… we kinda didn’t talk because we did it again, and then he was late.”
    Wes blinked. “Uh… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
    “We… did it again. Uh. And then he was late. So we didn’t really…”
    Wes didn’t listen in to the rest