Cristiano's Craving

Forty Seven

Rose

A lot happened in the last couple of weeks.

The relationship between the guys had gotten better after I forced them all to talk and work things out.

Dax and Tori had moved out so Cris took their room.

Genevieve had gone into labour and had a beautiful baby boy called Roman.

I managed to stay off alcohol and drugs which was a secret success.

We were so much closer to finding Blaze's parents.

I kept having vivid dreams about Cristiano.

I didn't know why they started and where they were coming from but I would wake up either in the middle of the night or early in the morning wet between my legs, breathless and craving him badly.

It was the same one morning.

I woke up practically panting, wiping the sweat off my forehead. I groaned softly, burying my head in my hands and sighing as I tried not to think about my amazing dream about a man I was supposed to be angry at.

I closed my legs, squeezing my thighs together and ran my hand through my damp hair, a small yawn leaving my mouth.

Damn.

I want him.

No, Rose

See, temptation is a bad, bad thing and it will only get you into more drama trouble

But I'm so horny

I'm a slut of course he wouldn't want me

He can't know what happened

He can't

I groaned again, looking over to the side of my bed to see that Blaze wasn't there.

Poor kid, probably went to get some breakfast

Yawning, I slipped out of bed and walked into the bathroom.

After I brushed my teeth and used the toilet, I turned on the shower and let it run as I stripped out of my clothes.

Then I looked into the mirror, naked.

Biting down hard on my bottom lip, I nervously looked at myself, my eyebrows creasing at the sight of my body.

It was. . .getting better but I still had a long way to go.

I exhaled, staring at the wounds and bruises covering my skin. I turned a little, trying to get a better look at my back and almost bursted into tears at the sight of it. Although the crisscrossing scars hadn't completely disappeared, I was glad to see that they were no long harsh lines, red and sore but faint bruises that were beginning to heal.

I fully faced the mirror once more and looked at my neck, examining the scars.

Okay. . .not too bad

Then my eyes went to my breasts.

No bruises there anymore

I hesitated before looking down and turning my leg a little, staring at my inner thigh, the stab wound.

Okay, still hurts

I looked at my side, and the scraps there were healing finely.

"Fucking hell," I whispered, gazing at myself in the mirror in disbelief. I sighed, my hands rubbing my eyes before I stared back into the mirror. "Ugly Rose."