Unstable (Sequel to Twisted)

Chapter 3

But after a few of his firm, quick unrelenting hits, I was moving my ass, trying to get away from the constant, stinging pain.

But his smacks only intensified when I tried to move away. I could feel my cheeks quaking from the persistent blows, and my face was being pressed even tighter into the mattress. I was really biting my lower lip, probably going to cut open my lip again from earlier from the pressure. My hands reached out and grabbed a handful of the covers, squeezing tightly, trying to do something-anything-to forget about the pain.

I wanted to beg for Harry to stop.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to cry.

But I knew it was pointless. I knew Harry wouldn't stop because a few tears or constant begging from me. So I lay there, taking each and every smack he gave me. I could feel the blood in my mouth now from my torn lip; I had opened it.

I was breathing very hard when the pain stopped abruptly. My ass felt like it was on fire, and my entire body felt like it was shaking now. All I could feel was the burning sensation on my ass, and I buried my face in the mattress, letting out a muffled groan.

"Who do you belong to?"

His voice was soft and smooth, though I could sense an edge to it.

"Y-you," I choked out. "I belong to you."

I thought he was going to stop. I thought that this was enough for him; I thought it would satisfy him.

But apparently it didn't, because he began smacking my ass again, though not as hard (probably because I wasn't trying to get away anymore). I gasped into the mattress from the smacks, grabbing the blankets again and letting out a dry, helpless sob.

He continued this a few times until he stopped. This time, however, he let his hand linger on my ass, gently running over my searing skin almost soothingly.

"Who do you belong to?"

"Harry," Was all I could mutter; tears were streaming down my face by now, dampening the mattress. I wept openly into the softness of where I slept, my knees shaking violently.

He delivered a swift smack to my ass again, and I cried out loudly, afraid he was going to have another round.

But thankfully he only smacked me once before saying harshly, "Show me who you belong to, Claire."

Blind and desperate, I got off from my position and somehow made my way at Harry's standing figure. I practically threw myself into his arms, wrapping mine around his waist and burying my head in his chest.

"I belong to you, Harry," I said through sobs. "I belong to you."

"Good girl," He cooed, suddenly pleased, his arms encircling around me. I cried even harder as I felt him sit on the bed, holding me up in his lap. His hands were running comfortingly through my short locks, and I was crying pitifully into his chest without an ounce of shame. It hurt like hell sitting on my ass, but I had absolutely no choice. The pain was almost numb now; I was barely able to feel it anymore.

Naturally I had so many unanswered questions that I was dying to ask Harry, but right now, I was clinging to the very man who had caused me to cry like this. I clung to the man who had turned my entire world upside down just a few months ago.

And it was all crashing back.

I thought I was safe.

I thought I was free.

But I was far from it.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Perrie's harsh voice was the first to go off when Harry led me, now fully clothed, back into the living room. My cheeks were still sticky with dry tears, and my entire body felt like it had just gotten beat up by a bat, especially in the ass. But I hid my pain with an emotionless mask as I let Harry tug me behind him, a tight grip on my wrist.