Page 17 of Pretty Little Fears

Thesoundof my alarm clock blares loudly through the room, alerting me it's time to wake up and start my day.Groaning,Iroll over and look outside where the sun has yet to rise.Feelingout of sorts,Iclose my eyes and let my thoughts go rampant.

It'sbeen two weeks.Twoweeks sinceImade the stupid decision to letEmmetttouch me.Callme pretty names and then degrade me,Ieven begged him for it.

Idon’t know what got into me in that moment, it is so not like me.I’lladmit, he’s fucking hot, butIcan’t go down that road.He’san asshole, andIrefuse to be the one to entertain him.

Buthis strong hands and thick fingers, the thought of them hasn't left my mind.Instead, my mind replays his words over and over.Whydid hearing him call me all those names make my stomach flip?

Itwasn’t right.Sowhy doIwant to hear him say it again?Totell meI’ma good girl while also calling me demeaning names…

Rollingonto my back,Isigh, knowing the only wayI’mgoing to be able to clear my thoughts ofEmmettis to deal with them.Pickingup my pelvis,Ishimmy out of my shorts.

Runningmy hand across my chest,Ifind my nipples already hardened and pinch them lightly through my tank top.Asmall gasp falls from my lips at the feeling.

Arousalbegins to pool between my thighs asIlet out another soft gasp.Myhand drags over to my other breast, stopping to pinch and tug on my nipple.Itake my lip between my teeth before my hand descends further down to my stomach.

Lettingmy fingers graze over my soft skin,Iinch my hand lower until my fingers find comfort on the bud between my thighs.Runningmy fingers through my folds,Ifind them already slick with my desire.Myclit throbs and aches to be touched.Yet, it isn’t my own touchI'mcraving, for once it’s someone else.

Tracingmy fingers in slow circles, trying to match the paceEmmetthad done, the pleasurable feeling starts to build up in my core.

“Greedygirl,”Ihear his whisper asIpick up my pace and my breath quickens.Myheart starts to pound in my chest as the next name he called me comes to mind.

“Filthylittle whore,” his raspy voice echoes andIclose my eyes, pretending it’s his hand touching me once again.Insteadof my smaller, softer fingers, it's his larger, rougher ones.

Mylips part andImutter his name, remembering his nickname for me, his little obsession.Keepingmy eyes closed,Iconjure up images of his forest eyes and the intensity swirling in them.Thedesire that they held.

Theidea ofEmmettbeing infatuated with me brings me right over the edge.KnowingIhave such a strong effect on him is intoxicating.Myback arches and my eyes roll, white-hot pleasure shooting through me asIreach my release, chanting his name over and over like a prayer.

Mylegs tremble asIpull my hand back from between them.Redstains my cheeks at the factIjust touched myself to thoughts ofEmmett.Whatis wrong with me?

Comingdown from my high too soon,Ihuff and toss the blanket off of my bottom half.Swingingmy legs over the side of the bed,Imake my way to the shower and prepare for the day.Touchingmyself did absolutely nothing to help take my mind off of him.Itonly made me focus on his absence more.

Atfirst,Iwondered if he was going to say something, but he hasn't.Ifeel his eyes on me constantly and catch him staring at me, but he hasn't approached me.

It'sunnerving.Itmakes me question what he plans on doing next, or if he's going to do anything at all.

Deepin thought,Ilose track of time while getting ready.Lookingover at the clock, the numbersIsee flashing back at me tell meIam going to be seriously late to class.

Shit.

Toothers, it’s nothing daddy’s money can’t fix, but one obligation to maintain my scholarship is to be timely, and ifI'mnot,Icould get penalized.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”Isqueak while throwing everythingI’llneed for the day into my bag.Ibolt out the door and head straight to class, there’s no time to stop for coffee today.

Enteringthe lecture hall,Irush to my usual seat, doing my best to go unnoticed.Idon't register the coffee waiting for me on my desk untilInearly knock it over whenIgo to sit.

Ifreeze, looking at the cup of my favorite coffee staring back at me.There'sa note attached to it andIquickly snatch it.Myeyes widen while gazing over the masculine handwriting.

LittleObsession,

You’remine.Acceptit.

-Emmett

Myeyes snap up to look forEmmett.He’sin his usual seat, drumming his fingers against the desk.Asif he senses my stare, his eyes meet mine and he winks.Theydon’t linger and aren’t filled with the same indifference they've had these past weeks.

Instead, they burn with the same intensity as when his fingers were inside me.Wheredid his sudden change of heart come from?Itwas two weeks of radio silence and now he’s making sureIget my morning fix of coffee?

Mymind races with irrational thoughts and lists every way he could’ve tampered with my drink.Didhe poison it?Spitin it?

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