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Kaylee

Emma is never going to forgive you.

It’s the only thought in my brain.

No matter how hard I try to focus on Brendon’s smooth sheets, or the way his scent is lingering in the bed, or the mirror I can use to watch him fuck me, or even that he’s about to come in here and—

I don’t know what he’s going to do.

Only that I trust him to steal all my other thoughts away.

Emma is never going to forgive you.

Thoughts of my wrists tied to this bed, of his palm on my ass, of his hand around my throat—

Nothing can stop that angry voice in my head.

This is your fault.

You ruined everything.

You begged him for this.

He said it couldn’t happen and you begged him.

You’re ruining his relationship with his sister.

With the only family he has left.

You really think he’ll forgive you for that?

That either one of them will?

Grandma is gonna die and Mom is gonna find out about this. And then you’ll have nothing. You’ll come back to LA and you’ll be alone.

He steps through the door.

He’s still in the same outfit. Skinny jeans. A t-shirt. Bare feet.

He has the same dark hair and dark eyes.

The same sleeve tattoo.

But he’s different than the Brendon of a few minutes ago.

He’s demanding. In control.

And that look in his eyes, the one that screams you’re mine and I’ll do whatever I want with you—

It sucks up all my attention.

It’s exactly what I need.

His eyes fix on me. “You wore that skirt to drive me out of my fucking mind.”

It’s a minor infraction compared to everything else I’ve done, but it’s enough.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“You knew I couldn’t touch you in front of Em.”

Her name is a dagger to my chest. I push up the walls around my heart. Something, anything, to stop that guilt from flooding my body.

“Kaylee. Answer me.” His voice is stern. It’s a promise. An answer me or you’ll regret it.

“Yes.”

He takes a seat on the bed next to me. His hand rests on my thigh. It doesn’t stroke or tease. It just sits there. “What did you want to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“You do.”

I shake my head. I really don’t.

“Did you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes?”

“To drag you to the alley and split you in half?”

“Yes.”

“What else?”

“I don’t know. I just want you. It’s all I can think sometimes.”

“How?”

“Huh?”

His hand knots in my hair. He turns me so we’re eye to eye. “Tell me how you wanted me. You were staring at me all night. You were thinking about me.”

“I was.”

“How?”

“About you bending me over the counter. Or the chair. Or ordering me onto my knees.”

“And coming on those pretty, pink lips?”

“Yes.”

“You like to tease me, angel?”

“Yes.”

“You have to pay for that.”

I nod. Yes. Please. I need to pay for… for everything.

He presses his palm against the back of my head to guide my body over his. So I’m bent over his knee, my stomach against his thighs, my face against the bed, my ass in the air.

Brendon rolls my skirt up my thighs. Over my ass.

He traces the outline of my thong. “You wear this to torture me too?”

“Yes.”

“Bad girl.”

I nod.

He rubs me over my panties.

“You want to hurt, angel?”

“Yes.”

He brings his hand into the air.

I squeeze my eyes closed.

Sink my teeth into my lower lip.

I’ve never.

I mean, I’ve thought about it. Fuck, how I’ve thought about it.

But I’ve never…

What if I can’t…

His hand comes down hard on my ass. It stings. I feel the slap in my sex. In my nipples. In my fingers and toes.

Fuck, that hurts so good.

He does it again.

Again.

I cry out. It’s not a word. It’s a yes and a no. A please and please make this stop. And then just a please.

He spanks me again.

“Brendon,” I breathe. “Please.”

“Tell me you need this, angel.”

“I do. Please.”

“Tell me why.”

“I ruined everything. Us. Em. Just… everything.”

“No.”

“No?” Anything but no.

He traces the line of my thong over my ass, my sex, my clit, my pelvis, then back again. “Tell me exactly.”

“You told me no. That this couldn’t happen. But I begged you.”

He brings his hand into the air then brings it down hard on my ass. “No, Kay. Tell me how it really happened.”

“But it did. You did, and I did, and—”

He spanks me again. Harder this time. Hard enough it hurts as much as it feels good.

“I…” I’m not sure what I’m asking for. Only that he’ll give it to me.

“I wanted you. I was desperate for you. I still am. This is on me too.”

“Oh. But I… I lied to Em.”

He brings his hand down hard on my ass. “What else?”

“I… I don’t know. I kept so many things from everyone. All this time, and I… I’m here and not in New Jersey, and—”

He spanks me again. Hard.

Fuck, that hurts.

“I ruined everything. Everything.” That dam breaks and guilt floods my body. It’s in every pore. In every molecule.


Tags: Crystal Kaswell Erotic