Page 119 of Hurt Me Not
Her movements became harder, impatient, just the way I liked it, and I found myself arching off the bed as I came. But she gave me no rest.
She flipped me over and pulled my ass into the air.
“Now that that’s over?—”
Her hand rubbed my ass cheek before she pulled it back and slapped it hard. I let out a yelp and tried to escape, but her grip was strong, pulling me back.
“Remember our safe word. What is it, pretty girl?”
“Bonfire,” I breathed.Oursafe word. My heart was pounding in my chest. My cunt dripping with need.
“Good.”
Another painful slap was delivered to the other ass cheek. My yelp quickly turned into a moan as she sank two fingers into me again.
“Harder, Emerson.”
“Careful… I didn’t know you had a bit ofbratin you. You don’t call the shots here.”
She pumped into me with one hand, the other massaging my ass, preparing me for her next slap.
My cunt convulsed around her. My hands gripped the sheet.
“Spank me again and find out just how bratty I can get.”
But to my dismay, she flipped me over, a smirk spreading across her lips.
“And why would I give my whore exactly what she wants when she’s being a brat, hm?”
It was my turn to smile.
“Because you love me. And, by the way, I have your bracelet at home. The nurses at the hospital had to remove it and I kept it. For when you came back to me. And you can’t take it off anymore.”
Her smirk softened. Her hand came to grab my chin, and she gave me a passionate kiss.
“I never did. Not since you left my car that night. I’ll wear it proudly. And you’re right,” she admitted. “I do love you. And I have your flannel at home waiting for you too. I can’t wait to see you wearing it again.”
My breath caught in my throat. Hearing her say those three words would never get old.
“I love you, Emerson.” I wrapped my arms around her. “See, that’s not so hard now, is it?”
She shook her head.
“No. It… feels right. Just like—” I gasped when her fingers entered me again. “This.”
I moved against her, jerking my hips as she fucked me.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Just like this.”
If anyone had met us in high school, they would have said Emerson and I weren’t meant to be. We were an impossibility. But somehow, here we were. We found each other, and we were never letting go.
I wished I could tell the girl who read romance books, thinking she’d never live her own, that she would one day. That the bully who made fun of her and was mean to her never really hated her.
And that her happy ending might be fucked up and misshapen, but it was all hers.
Epilogue
Emerson
