Page 62 of Jerk
“Keep your voice down!” I whisper, hearing more students walking by on the other side. “Why can’t you wait? You and your Crowns might own the school, but you don’t own me. Do you get that?”
"Don’t want to push me today, Hannah,” he says, way too loud for my liking.
“I said, keep it down!” Using the end of my heel, I step into the front of his shoe.
He doesn’t respond in pain or surprise. He just chuckles, his hand landing around my throat. “Bad idea, Kitten.” The way he has me against this tree, firmly under his grasp, could mean major damage to my regrowing reputation. But fire scorches through me when he glares into my eyes. “Remember when I said you’ll need to remember that safe word because you’d piss me off again?” He brings his lips to my ears, his voice growling through me. “You just did.” With his free hand, he unbuckles his belt, pulling it through the loop of his slacks.
“Oh, did someone say ‘no’ to a Crown?” I mock. “What a hard time you must be?—”
A gasp escapes me when he tugs hard on my wrist, spinning me around until my chest slams against the tree. He holds my wrist tighter and higher above me, stretching my arms up in a way that sends an annoying pain down to my shoulders.
“You so mad you’re hurting me?” My whisper is harsh, still super aware that anyone could walk by.
“If you didn’t want to be punished, you shouldn't be such a fucking brat.” He reaches under me, pulling my hips out. He pushes his knee between my legs, spreading them before a whoosh of air lands on my ass. “Go ahead, Hannah, wave the white flag.”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
Slap!
My eyes widen when the leather of his belt lands against my ass. “Rye!” A sting vibrates from my skin to my chest as he chuckles. His hand comes to my ass next, rubbing it in a way that immediately soothes the pain.
Then he does it again.
Slap!
I gasp again, that sting charging from my ass to the spot between my legs.
Slap!
Then another. He soothes the burn with his hand, but it’s already turned into pleasure, a sigh escaping me.
He yanks on my hair, his fingers trailing all the way down until he grazes my exposed slit. He chuckles. This is twisted, but he’s making me wet, and he knows it. Should I want his fingers inside me like this? No. But I do, so badly my ass pushes towards him.
“No, no, you don’t get my fingers,” he growls, looping his belt around my left thigh. He yanks it up, a roll of waves flowing through me when it presses right against my clit. “If this is about control, I’ll remind you who has it.”
“You don’t get to—ahh, fuck.” He tugs on his belt again. It slides against my clit, my fists clenching. It’s what he did at the Crimson party, except this time, it’s leather. Firmer. Harder.
“What was that?” He chides in my ear, pulling his belt again. He has a rhythm now, my body rocking back against it. Another moan escapes me as my arms give in to his hold. “Quiet, Kitten, your friends might hear you.” He pulls harder, making it easy not to care about how close everyone is. My thighs squeeze around the leather, but it only makes the sensation better as it presses harder against my clit. I move my hips faster, the feeling of his belt soothing the worries in my mind. This feels too good to care about anything else. “What’s the matter, Hannah? Though I didn't control you.”
“You don’t!” I moan my words, and if he keeps rocking his belt against my clit like that, I won’t last. My knees shake with his rhythm, my thighs clenching and releasing. It makes my head spin. “You don’t!”
“Look at you, grinding on leather like a needy slut for me.” He tugs hard on that last one, my body screaming for release as my toes curl in my heels. “If I can make you do this, I can make you do so much more.” Then he stops. Right when I’m there. “Think about that the next time you want to be a brat.” My heavy breathing startles me as I force my legs to stand. When I look at him, belt in his hand, he plasters that stupid fucking smirk on his face. “Let’s talk and maybe then, I’ll let you come on my cock like a good girl.”
“Fuck you.” Adjusting my skirt, I don’t care how my hair looks or how flushed my cheeks are when I walk away, my name still on his lips.
“Ma?”The door creaks closed behind me as I step foot into our foyer.
It’s been a while since I spent the night at home. Not since my folks abandoned me. Recent evenings either involved Rye and me in some sinful entanglement. Or my posse at Sun House, soaking up cocktails and gossip. Things feel normal. Almost.
It used to be“Hey, Hannah, can we come to your lake house?” or “Hey, Hannah, can we go to your father’s villa for a weekend in Cabo?”
Now I only get questions about The Crowns and where the next party will be.
It makes it hard to be sure that I’m not feeding into the narrative that Rye does indeed own me. It sure felt that way when I almost came against the tree on campus. If anyone saw, it would mean more questions about us. More questions that involve him. Not me. He didn’t put me in my position as queen. I did. And everyone forgot, including him.
My phone buzzes in my hand as I slip off my heels.
Ryung: you liked being punished, dont you?
