Song for this chapter - Your Body by Christina Aguilera
You know that feeling when you've done something and you know that bad things are going to happen because of it? Well, that's the case for me.
There's only one possibility for what happened last night; I was raped.
Wait, maybe I'm overeacting just a tad. I enjoyed what she did to me, like a lot. I just can't believe she touched me like that, she meant what she said by "I'll treat you differently than your mother ever will."
After I changed my trousers last night I didn't want to go back downstairs to face her, I was too embarrassed. A part of me was hoping that she'd come to me instead; she didn't. But I'm okay with that, I don't expect her to find me attractive in any shape of form. Maybe she just wanted to make me feel good, you know, by doing me a favour.
The thought of Harry pleasuring me like I did to him last night was utterly unbearable, him fucking me in Damien's bed every weekend, the scratches and bite marks being visible on Harry's neck and shoulders. I wanted him more than ever, but I needed to have a talk with him about last night. But I didn't want to do it so soon, I needed to make sure that he was comfortable around me first. You know, see how he would react if I gave him a few kisses there and there, playfully spanking his arse when he would walk past me. Just stuff like that, you know?
I was always lost in my thoughts when I would imagine all the kinky sex that we could get up to. Harry would be clueless, and that arouses me somehow, his innocence being a vulnerability which I could use at a heavenly advantage. I could think about Harry fucking me hard all day but I have to a lot of things today. Like making breakfast for me and Harry, taking him shopping, and having a talk with him about our last encounter. It shall all go swimmingly.
The pancakes were burnt to a crisp as I tossed them onto a large china plate, the apple juice messily spilled over the counter without me realising until now. I scanned around the modern styled kitchen, looking for a tissue or towel of some kind. My hand went for the kitchen towels which were placed on top of the white marble counter, where I swiped it along the spilled juice.
Harry wouldn't care if the breakfast was burnt or not, he wouldn't be so rude to mention the low standard of presentation and taste of the almost black pancakes. I wouldn't be too pleased if he were to bring it up in subject, the effort I put in was more than enough for Harry's liking.
It was now about time that I'd decide to wake up the sleeping teenager upstairs, he really wasn't a morning person by my watch. There hasn't been one time when he's woken up before me, I take that as an advantage though, at least he hasn't seen how hideous I look when I've just woken up. I shouldn't even be bragging about my daily sleeping pattern, if I was compared to Damien when I comes to waking up then there would be no way of me becoming in first ranking.
Anyway, I shouldn't be getting carried away in my thoughts, I have a busy day ahead of me, I need to get a lot of things done in such a short amount of time. Waking up Harry is first on my list.
"Harry!" I yelled from the kitchen, my lack of energy getting the better of me as I didn't want to carry myself upstairs to awake the boy. My behind was firmly pressed against the marble counter, my head tilted upwards to make my voice echoe as I yelled.
I didn't hear a sign of movement coming from upstairs as I sat still, only the constant snoring which was always heard in the mornings, from Harry of course.