Page 26 of Debts and Desires
“Just not where I asked you. Get over here.”
“I want to negotiate first,” I said, with a defiant tilt of my chin.
“Serious?” I nodded. He sighed. “Fine. Go ahead.”
“I’m still doing the math for everything, but I think it’s fair that every time we…” I trailed, feeling my face flush.
“Fuck?” He filled in.
I was okay with a stranger fucking me, but I couldn’t say the word?
“Yes. Every time wefuck,” I all but whispered. “I think it should count as an hour, regardless of if it is a full hour or not. Otherwise we’re getting down to minutes and that’s just ridiculous.”
“Okay.”
“I also think that my cleaning should count for something.”
“I didn’t ask you to clean.”
“No, you didn’t, but it needed to be done. You’re busy, hardworking. You didn’t ask, but it’s a necessity. And it’s something that keeps me from dying of boredom. I think that’s fair.”
“Fine.”
“For every day that passes, I think I should get an additional hour, regardless of if we fuck or not.”
“No.”
“Carter, I can’t be here forever. Especially if you won’t take me anywhere or let me get a job. Or even talk to Tyler about the robbery, which I’m taking that day back, whether you agree to it or not. It isn’t fair and you know it isn’t.” He looked away for a moment, clenching his jaw.
“Fine. That everything?” I nodded. “Good. Now get over here.” A sudden defiant streak had me feeling confident, even with him looking at me like he wanted to pummel me.
“Please?” I prompted, crossing my arms and raising a brow.
“Emogen,” he warned. I didn’t budge, and Carter let out a sigh. “Please?” I dropped my arms and walked over to him.
I was barely a foot away when he reached for me. He put me stomach down on the bed, a firm hand holding the back of my neck down as he ripped my towel away. I squirmed, but his hold was strong. When he brought his hand up, he smacked my ass cheek. The sound echoed in the room.
Did he just fucking spank me?!
“I donottolerate brats.” Another smack, this one to the other cheek. “You want this agreement to work, then you do as you’re told. Understood?” When I didn’t answer, he smacked my ass again, a little harder this time. “Understood?” he asked again.
This shouldn’t turn you on, Emmy.
“Yes,” I breathed out. I flinched when I felt his hands run down my back, tracing each curve and dip as if he were mapping me out. My breathing was shallow as his fingers moved lower, skimming my inner thighs before coming back up. He spread my legs apart, exposing me to him, and ran a finger along my slit. I let out a shaky exhale.
“Look how wet you are for me,” he said, his voice low. His hand smacked my left ass cheek again, this time grabbing it in a bruising grip.
Carter’s grip on the back of my neck increased as he lined himself up behind me. In one hard push, he was buried in me. I moaned as he bottomed out, his hips flush with my ass. His hand gripped my hip tighter, almost painfully.
“Fuck,” he groaned as he pulled back. When he thrust back in, he didn’t pull out far at all. The tip of him was barely out of me before he was back in. He began to move in and out at an almost punishing pace. My hands balled up the comforter as I tried to keep my mouth shut while he fucked me ruthlessly.
“So fuckin’ good,” Carter muttered, his voice strained. “I like when you’re all worked up.” From his words alone, I felt my orgasm build. I whimpered softly, clenching around him. But much like the night before, I was moved just before I was able to go over that blissful edge. When he did it a second time, I cried out in surprise and frustration.
I couldn’t understand why he kept doing it to me. Was he punishing me? Did he want me to offer hours in exchange for my pleasure? I wanted to come so badly, but he was already finished. And like the afternoon, he moved me to the floor, all but shoving his dick in my mouth before he came down my throat.
When he was finished, he pulled back and ran a handthrough his hair. He gave me a once over before he headed to his dresser and put on a pair of sweatpants. I was exhausted again and more frustrated than ever.
Without a word, I stood, retreating to my room, muttering about what a dick he was.
