Does It Hurt?

by H.D. Carlton

Whoever said that breathing exercises help manage anger is a fucking con artist.

!

However, any light that was previously in her eyes has dissipated, and now I feel like the thief.

There's an entire ocean before me that deserves my reverence, yet all I want to do is give it to her.

“Sounds like you’re talking about little boys. A man wouldn’t touch a woman without their consent,” I volley back. “Plus, a bathing suit isn’t an invitation to be violated.”

Period.

Every time his skin slides against mine, a storm cloud swells, and lightning strikes somewhere around the world. How many others have shipwrecked because he can't stop touching me?

as if my body is a composition where his fingers engrave each note of intention within?

“Why did you get to be God’s favorite?” He stares down at me with a savage expression. “You can ask him yourself when I take you to see him.”

“Oh God,” I cry, trying to keep my voice down but failing miserably. “Can you see him, baby? Ask him for forgiveness.” “Why?” I pant, another high-pitched moan nearly swallowing the word. “Because you worship me now.”

fuck Him for making her the bane of my goddamn existence. And fuck Him for making her the one thing I want most.

I may hold on to stones from my past—keepsakes that I’m not ready to let go of—but the stones Sawyer carries are too heavy, and she doesn't think she's strong enough to throw them away.

Being scared and weak aren't synonymous.

“Don’t ever think of yourself that way. And don’t ever think that I will, too. You’re so much more than the people who have hurt you.”

For so long, I had convinced myself that it was clinging to me, despite my desperate attempts to escape it. But now I realize it’s me that’s been holding on, like a child with their favorite teddy bear.

I would take the worst of him if it meant I never had to go without him.

If I’m the devil, she’s fucking Lilith.

Because fuck, am I proud of her for making me beg for her forgiveness.

“If worshiping you is what you ask, I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life on my knees,”

<3

“Would you like me to crawl to you, bella?” I question, gravel lining my throat. “Bow at your feet and find a home beneath you? Or would you like to climb onto my back, where I will serve you and take you to places with a point of your finger?”

<33

can get on my knees again and show you a blessing from a different type of god,”

He put his hands on my girl, and I sure as fuck will no longer allow him the gift of breath.

As if I’d ever let her fall. Not unless it's for me.

What she doesn’t realize is that I’ve always held her life in my hands, and she never knew that she was trusting me to guard it.

She nods, and her trust only serves to strengthen my obsession with her.

“Yet, I will never stop asking for it,” I tell her. “I will never stop worshiping you.”

Except this time, it sets my insides aflame, and I want to return that look with a smile that says Never let me go. I’ll die with your hands wrapped around my throat.

We’re the perfect storm, where he is the thunder, and I am the lightning.

“Show me where you hurt so I know where to love you most.”

“You are a thief, baby. You stole my name, and now you’ve taken my heart, too. Demand anything else from me, and I’ll give it to you.”

would lie for you as easily as I would kill for you. If you getting the best of me requires the world getting the worst of me, you will want for nothing in life, bella ladra.”