Page 89 of Please Hate Me

“Use your words before I find out for myself.” She continued.

“I-I’m your good girl.”

She swept a few fine strands of hair behind my ear, and I pulled her wrist to my mouth so I could kiss it. My cranberry lip gloss stained her peachy skin.

“You’re missing a word,” she hummed, slipping her fingers closer to my pounding cunt. I wondered if she could feel how blazing hot I was for her.

“You’re my good little girl. Say it.”

My head was light, my mind dizzy, my breathing shallow. “I’m... your good little girl.”

I had to look away as I said it. My face was an inferno, and I just wanted to hide, but Sophia found my chin. Her touch was feather-light as she gripped my cheeks.

“Don’t hide your sweet little face.” She inched closer. “I’ve waited for years to see you like this.”

“What? Huge and vulnerable?” That’s how I felt, anyway.

“Don’t talk about my pretty little girl like that,” Sophia scolded as she traced my features with her thumb. “Well, the vulnerability is nice. But you’re growing our family, and I think that’s absolutely wonderful.”

I should have left it at that. Sophia was praising me, and I had no reason to not just say thank you and move on, but some ungrateful part of me couldn’t just accept her compliment.

“My mom said pregnancy makes you fat. That’s how I ruined her career.”

Sophia’s expression twisted into a look of disapproval as she stepped away from me. Before I could even collect my thoughts, she was stripping off her clothes. I wanted to look away and give her a little privacy, but I couldn’t. I wanted to stick my face in her cotton-candy-colored bra. The beautiful curves of her body sang to me like a cello. She was a complete and utter work of art, from her plump cheeks to the stretch marks on her stomach.

“Do you thinkI’mfat?“ Her question was more of a challenge, complete with raised eyebrows and crossed arms.

“Well, no—”

“But you just said pregnancy makes you fat. You’re pregnant, and my clothes were hanging off of you. Ifyou’refat,Imust be a literal whale.”

“Sophia, don’t talk about yourself like that,” I whispered.

“You don’t like it, do you?” She stepped closer.

“No, but you’re beautiful,” I defended.

“And you think you’re not?”

Sophia took me by the shoulder and forced me to look in the mirror as she slipped my skirt and undies down. For the first time throughout my pregnancy, I was stark naked, looking atmyself in a full-length mirror. A tingling feeling took over the back of my neck; even the tips of my ears went red.

Sophia buried her face in my neck, using one hand to cup my breast and the other to circle my clit. I jerked against her. She only held me tighter as she showered me in slow kisses. Every now and then, the tip of her tongue would caress my skin as she worked her way up to my ear.

“Look at how beautiful you are,” she whispered, her breath sending chills down my spine. “Especially when I do this.”

She squeezed my clit between her index and middle fingers, and I stifled a moan.

“Shh, you have to be quiet. We’re in public, Honeybee.”

I nodded as I placed my hands on the mirror for support. My knees were already starting to shake. She pressed against me, her body was warm and soft against mine.

“Tell me how beautiful you are,” she coached.

My whole body was flushed as I arched my back, dying for her to touch me just a little longer.

“I’m beautiful,” I mumbled.

“Now, look yourself in the eye as you say it,” she commanded.

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