Page 110 of Pretty Little Fears

“Iknow you can’t say the safe word anymore, so if you need to, tap your feet and it’ll all stop.Okay?”I'mshaking my head furiously, just wanting him to continue to please me.

BeforeIcan say or do anything, he’s lifting the lower half of my bound body by my ass and pushing his hips forward, impaling me on his cock.Iscream around the gag as my teeth dig into the rope. “Fuck.Youlook so fucking good like this.Completelytied up and spread wide open for me.”Therasp of his voice mixed with the heat of his eyes sends shock waves of pleasure through my body.

Myeyes roll back as he slams deep, hitting a sweet spot inside of me.Thepleasure inside keeps building as he pounds into me.Icry out around the gag and my eyes shoot open as he stops moving, stealing away the pleasure that was forming.Emmettremoves one of his hands from under me and collars my throat.

Heslams forward while speaking his next words. “Eyeson me whileIfuck you,” he thrusts deep. “Eyeson me whileIuse this pretty tight pussy,” another deep thrust. “Eyeson me whileIfucking claim you.”Onhis last thrust, the orgasm that racks my body is intense and consuming.Mybound limbs shake as my pussy convulses around him.

Thegag in my mouth muffles the needy moans that leave my throat as the orgasm takes over my body. “Fuck,Yourpussy is squeezing me so tight, milking my cock.Sucha filthy girl.”Hispace picks up and his hand grips my throat tighter.Spotsstart to dance around my vision as his brutal pace rocks my bound flesh.Myarms have gone completely numb underneath me.

IthinkI’mgoing to pass out just as he releases my throat, allowing me to suck in air.Withoutwarning, another orgasm takes over my body as he buries himself deep and releases inside me. “That’sit baby.Youdid so good for me.Cumon my cock whileIfill you up.”Hegrunts as he empties himself inside of me, my pussy squeezing every drop out of him as it spasms around his length.

Tearsstream down my face asIsniffle around the gag in my mouth.Myjaw is sore with how hardI'vebeen biting down on the material.Myeyes start to flutter close asEmmettpulls out of me and quickly starts to untie the ropes from my limbs.Mybody feels sore and used, but in a good way.Asoft smile curves on my lips as he places a gentle kiss to my forehead while lifting my spent body from the bed.

Hecarries me over to the bathroom where he starts the shower, leads us inside, and washes me, massaging the skin where the ropes have left indentations and placing kisses over every inch of me.Sleepthreatens to pull me under by how good his affection feels.Thewater is turned off and a towel is wrapped around me as he grabs my hand and takes me back to his room.

Iwatch as he pulls out clothes for me to wear, even thoughIhave my own.Hehands me a t-shirt and a pair of my panties thatIdon’t remember ever leaving here.Infact,Ihaven’t seen this pair since the beginning of the school year.Iwould know, they are one of my favorites.Ihold up the panties in question and raise a brow at him.

Insteadof answering, he takes them from my hold and starts to slip them up my legs.Iguess how he got these will remain a mystery, butI’malmost positive he swiped them during one of his surprise visits.Ichuckle asIgrab them and pull them the rest of the way up.Emmettbrings me into bed as he climbs in himself.Layingagainst him,Iclose my eyes whileIthink about what we just did, and howI’mfeeling.

Givingup control again was scary.Ifit wasn’t for the complete trust thatIhave inEmmett,Idon’t thinkIwould have been able to do that.Hecan make me feel safe and cherished while also treating me like his good little slut.

Ifeel more like myself.Morelike the girlIwas beforeIwas taken.I’mdetermined to not let that define me, not let that be the girlIam for the rest of my life.BecauseIam so much more than that.Iam more than the girl who was taken.Iam more than a victim.I’mmore than a survivor, andIowe it to myself to remember this.

Imay owe some of it toEmmettfor helping me.Helpingme heal andpulling me back from the depths of my mind thatIwould unknowingly retreat to.ButIalso owe a lot of it to myself, for not giving up and for remembering thatIam more than those people and moments that tried to break me.

Butto the man currently lying under me, who gave me the shattered pieces of himself to mend my own, whose soul may never be whole as long asIhold those pieces,Ican’t help but feel the surge of love that rushes through me.Gettingready to tellEmmettabout the appreciationIhave for him,Iopen my eyes and stop before the words leave my mouth.

Myeyes land on the photo perched on his nightstand.It'sthe same picture he showed me months ago, of him and his mother.Thesight of her sparks a forgotten memory to resurface in my mind, replacing the ones that just consumed me.Nibblingon my bottom lip,Idebate whether or not to bring this up.Idon’t want to upset him, and it was probably just the drugs, but the resemblance was uncanny.

Mybottom lip gets pressed by a thumb, bringing it away from the assault of my teeth. “What’son your mind, baby?”Icould lie to him and make something up, but he knows me too well.He’llbe able to tellI’mlying beforeIeven say a word.

“Rememberthe galaIhad mentioned?”Ifeel his body tighten its hold on me at the mere mention of that night. “Yeah,Iremember.Whatabout it?”Lettingout a puff of air,Itell him the details about that night thatIhad previously left out.

“Beforewe went in,Iwas drugged, so whatIsaw might not even be accurate.ButwhenIwas there,Isaw a woman that looked so much like an older version of your mom.”Hisentire body goes rigid as the words leave my mouth.

“I’msorry to bring it up, butItruly couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasSera.Ihad slipped away fromLorenzoand tried to follow her down a hallway, but she was too quick and disappeared beforeIcould reach her.Iwasn’t able to find her after that, butIjust couldn’t shake the feeling that it was her.Itwas so odd…”Ifade off at the end, not really sure what else to say about the situation.

Worryand guilt start to eat away at me.Wasit pointless to tell him?Wasthat cruel of me?Ididn’t mean to do anything to cause him any mental or emotional harm, but even just looking at the photo of her sitting on his nightstand,Ican’t help but listen to the feeling in my gut telling meIwasn’t crazy.Iwasn’t seeing things.Somethingisn’t right.

Butthe idea of her still alive and breathing, afterEmmettsaw her dangling from the balcony with his own eyes,iscrazy, isn't it?

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

EMMETT

Blair’swords shock me,like being doused in cold water.I’mtrying to absorb what she told me but it can’t be possible.Isaw her lifeless body.Ifoundher.Andyet, some little voice nags in the back of my head.

“WhenIwas going through my father’s office,Ifound a letter from her.Itwas addressed to me.Idon’t know, it was weird.Almostcryptic.”Mybrows furrow asItry to remember the words.

“WhenIfound it,Ididn’t think twice about it, you know?Ijust assumed it was her suicide note to me.”Ifeel fucking crazy as the next words leave my mouth, “Whatif it wasn’t a suicide note?Whatif she was trying to tell me something?”

Istart to piece everything together in my mind.EitherI’mfucking crazy, or the possibility is slim, but something just isn’t adding up.Ilook over atBlair’sconcerned face, “Ireally thought it could have been her.Itjust looked so much like her, it was weird.I’msorry for bringing it up,Emmett.”Sherubs her hand down my arm, andIshake my head.

Thefeeling that something is just not fucking adding up won’t go away. “Idon’t knowBlair.Whatif my father was behind it?Whatif she isn’t dead?Iknow it’s far-fetched but if you think this woman looked like my mom,Iwant to check it out.”

Shegives me a little nod.Ican tell she feels bad by the way her eyebrows pull lower and she bites the inside of her cheek.Shedoesn't truly believe that the woman wasactuallymy mom.Hell, she probably wasn't.Butmy six-year-old self can't help but grasp onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, my piece of shit father was behind some elaborate plan when it came to her death.

Hopeis a dangerous thing.

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