Don't Say You're Sorry (Hawthorne University #2)

by Bethany Winters

I deserve it. I deserve everything he throws at me.

his only response is to cock his head at me. I know that look. He wants me to beg. Unfortunately for me, I’ve never been above doing anything he wants me to do. I could never say no to him.

He pushes my head back, pressing it into the counter with his palm on my forehead, and I smile like a damn fool. I love him like this. Bossy. Dominant. Mine.

“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Let me see you.” I gaze up at him, my eyes streaming, his precum and my spit dripping down my jaw. “Still a fucking masochist…” he mutters.

I could drown in his cum and die a happy motherfucker.

down bad shit

I like the fact that he caused it.

“There are worse things than lying,” he mutters. I stop in the hall, eyes forward. “Like?” “Like never saying a fucking word.”

“Fine. I was worried, okay? When I woke up this morning and realized you’d snuck off in the middle of the night, I booked the first flight.”

So I ruined his instead. Ours. I ruined us.

lord

fuck him. Fuck him so fucking hard

Why do I low key want them to hate fuck

How am I supposed to fake it, to hide the way there’s a big chunk of my heart missing—the piece I thought was still running around somewhere in fucking London until last night—when

As I finish eating, I wonder if Adam’s eaten this morning, and kick myself for it. “You still care.” If only he knew how much I still fucking care, even after all these years.

If I had left it alone, maybe I wouldn’t have lost my best friend, my stepbrother, and the only person I’ve ever let myself love. I ruined us long before he did.

He’s just looking at me, a blank expression on his face as he sucks on a lollipop, his favorite sweet, aka his favorite way to drive me insane.

i bet its one of the long swirl ones

“By making yourself miserable?” “How do you know I was miserable?” “I already told you…” I know everything there is to know about you, little brother.

I want that. I fucking had that. And I threw it away.

“I’ll take whatever I can get. I just want to be in your life again, E. I want my person back.”

“I know I have no right, but…I can’t play that game with you. Not yet.” Not ever. “Then why are you here?” Because I want you all to myself. My eyes slam shut as the thought comes unbidden. God fucking damn it.

He’s looking for a job. He’s been looking for one for I don’t know how long. He’s serious about this, about moving back here, staying here, and he wants me to know it.

“How many people have you been with since me?” I ask. He pauses. “I don’t know. A lot.” “How many of them were guys?” Another pause, and then he turns his head to look at me. “None.” Hope swirls in my chest. “Yeah, baby,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “You’re still the only guy I’ve ever been with. Not for lack of trying. Trust me. I fucking tried.” I swallow. “What happened?” “They weren’t you,” he says as he walks out.

Easton dances with them as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, and another piece of my heart breaks off.

“Because my lips feel weird, and yours look really fucking tasty right now.”

“Every time I see you with someone else, I die a little on the inside,” he rushes out, panting against my ear. “Fuck. I⁠—” I don’t hesitate. “Then I’ll stop.” “What?” “If it hurts you, I’ll stop.” I run my lips over his cheek. “Nothing’s worth hurting you, Adam.”

Now he’s gone and done it. One taste. One fucking taste and I’m addicted to it. To him.

“I’ll kiss you, suck you, rim you, fuck you, and come in your little virgin ass if that’s what you want. That’s what I want. But only when you’re sober.”

“Mine,” I whisper to his sleeping body. “That’s what you are to me.”

“While thinking about me?” “Always,” I confess. Always him. Only him.

“My baby,” I whisper against his lips, and he catches himself before he moans. His eyes flare with heat. “You’re possessive.”

He trusts me completely, and it lights me the fuck up inside. He’s my person, and I’m his. Always.

😂🤭

He loved it. I thought he loved me. Until one day he didn’t anymore.

His good boy. Always his.

“I want it to be really fucking difficult for you to pack up and leave again.”

Level of possessive 🤭

He enjoys making me desperate and reckless.

He wants me back. He wants to be us again. I know it. I feel it. And like hell am I going to say no to that.

I’d rather have him in secret than not have him at all.

“Because he’s…mine. He’s my person, Axel. He’s the one I’m supposed to be with.”

You’re…happier.

Damn bro just can’t be in a good mood huh

Fuck. I love him. I love him, and the sudden revelation is so devastating I could cry.

The truth. It’s selfish. Reckless. Wrong. But the answer is simple. “You.”

“I love the way you are when you’re with me,” he whispers. “The way you let me see you, inside and out. The way you trust me completely. You’re so…pure,”

🥺

He’s the pure one. He’s confident. Kind. Loyal. Loveable. Smart. Funny. Ambitious. Protective of those he loves. Determined to get what he wants out of life. Despite everything he’s been through, he lives every day with a smile.

Nnooooooo tell him god please I can’t do another miscommunication trope 😭

You did the right thing, baby.”

The root of the praise kink

I’m the one who lets something bad happen to him. I’m the one who breaks him. My sunshine.

A literal growl creeps up my throat. Fuck it.

OOOOOOOOOO Possessive king

“I don’t care about that. You’re my kink.”

I could tell him anything, and he’d never judge me or make fun of me for it.

“Because when you kiss me, it feels like I can breathe again.”