Bloom (Black Rose #2) Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Black Rose Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 89142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
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“Is this yours?”

“No, but I was hoping you and I might need some privacy tonight, so I reserved it.” He opens the door and allows me to walk in ahead of him.

“Wow.”

It’s a beautiful bedroom. I’m not sure why I was expecting anything else.

The king-size bed sits on one side of the room, covered in a glorious royal blue quilt. Where are the toys? The tables, the ropes?

Phantom closes the door. “Come here, Angel.”

His presence is imposing, yet I feel no fear at all. Only anticipation as I walk toward him and he pulls me into his arms.

His lips touch mine.

It’s a soft kiss, but it has my heart thrumming.

He slides his lips over mine, and then his tongue probes the seam of my mouth.

I part my lips, and his tongue delves in…

And no longer is the kiss gentle.

He devours my mouth, sliding his lips, his tongue, his teeth, and then he growls into me, vibrating through me.

This kiss.

How could it start so gentle and then…

But my God, I love it. I melt into it and into him.

My nipples are hard against the stretchy fabric of my black dress.

I don’t care about the article anymore, and I don’t care about the black dress or the three hundred and fifty dollars that it cost. He can rip it into shreds.

All I care about is Phantom and this kiss.

Even if I never learn his name, it’s all worth it for this kiss.

This kiss that’s better than the hottest sex I ever had with Penn or anyone else.

All of it… Love. Peace. Goodness. The whole world.

All of it is in this kiss.

Chapter Seventeen

Phantom

At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

I’ve never really been into kissing.

I like it, but it’s not the crux of what I’m after during a scene.

Scenes, for me, while they’re definitely about the sex, aren’t about emotion. Kissing is about emotion. Consequently, I’m not that into it.

I give my partners pleasure, for sure. Pain if they want it.

But I don’t get attached, and I rarely kiss them unless they ask me to.

With Francesca, though?

I’ve never enjoyed a kiss so much.

I couldn’t wait to get my lips on hers, my tongue inside her mouth.

I couldn’t wait to touch her soft cheeks, to thread my fingers through her silky hair.

I truly get what Jay Gatsby was feeling. She’s blossoming like a flower under my kiss.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought her here. I want her more than anything. My cock is hard as a rock, and I long to thrust it into her lush body. I come here for one purpose—to satisfy my hunger, my desires.

She came here with me. She’s seen the place. She knows what happens here.

And she hasn’t asked to leave.

That’s all I can think as she melts farther into me, farther into the kiss.

My God… The feelings swirling through me. I wasn’t sure I could ever have them again.

I still don’t know much about this woman. I know her name, now, and a bit about what she does.

I certainly know more about her than she does about me.

And what’s truly frightening?

I want her to know me. I want to show her who I truly am.

But if I do, will she be as enamored by me?

Women like the mystery of my costume, the darkness, the desires shrouded in a conundrum.

I’ve never had trouble attracting women without this getup, but I like the mystery, too. I like how excited it gets them.

And I like how I can be someone other than who I am, if only for a moment.

But no matter what I look like on the outside, I’m the same person on the inside.

I never forget that, though my partners probably do. They probably never think about who I am on the inside.

Francesca seems to be the exception.

She’s asked me many times to level with her. To tell her something personal about myself.

I’ve done that, and I want to tell her more.

I want to very much.

Which means I cannot. I unequivocally cannot.

Chapter Eighteen

Frankie

The decision turns out to be an easy one.

I’m going to let Phantom take me. Right here in this private suite.

I may let him tie me up. I may let him do whatever he wants. If he wants me on my knees in front of him, my mouth held open… Well, I may even consider that.

Yes, it will be good information for the article, but that’s not the ultimate reason why I’m considering it.

I’m considering it because this whole atmosphere—this whole fantasy—intrigues me.

I want him.

In all my life, I never imagined wanting to be with a man whose identity I don’t even know. So why do I feel closer to Phantom than I ever did to Penn or anyone else?

On some level, he seems to get me. He’s admitted that we have things in common. Running. Writing.



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