Page 80 of Apparently, I’m Torture

I leaned over him, reached for the remote and flicked on my small TV.

Shawn groaned. He knew what was coming. “Which one are you going to make me watch?”

I gave him a toothy, devious smile as I flicked through my catalogue of shows, and chose an episode.

The phrase, “Well excuuuuuse me, Your Highness,” filtered into the room, and Shawn groaned again as I nuzzled into him.

“You know I hate this.”

He was right. I knew he hated this show. I could still remember the day I unearthed this animated series based on his favorite video game. The last thing I expected was for him to gripe and moan about how it was the worst thing to happen in the history of the franchise.

I shrugged. “I just felt like watching it.”

“You felt like watching it? It had nothing to do with me?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

I burst out laughing as his fingers dug into my ribs, tickling me until I squirmed against him. “Stop, stop, please! You win, you were right!”

He stopped tickling and pulled me back to him, rearranging me until my head was tucked under his chin.

“I knew you chose this to punish me,” he muttered, and I giggled.

“It isn’t the worst thing.”

“Lilly, this show is objectively the worst thing you could’ve chosen, and you know it.”

“Well, it’s already on, so, too bad.”

He wrapped a hand around my waist and pulled me tighter against him. My back was to his chest, my legs splayed open across his thighs. His fingers found my nipples, and tightened them until I yelped.

Letting a nipple go, he slid his hand down my stomach as he muttered, “Too bad for you, I’m better at punishing than you are.”

His fingers were coarse against my clit, and I yelped. “Shawn, I don’t think I can take anymore.”

He ran his lips across my shoulder before biting into my neck. “You’ll get used to this.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” I moaned as his fingers pressed into me.

“You will,” he promised, his breath warm on my skin. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. And I will never, never, get tired of making you come.”

The episode played, sending bright colors across my walls as I arched against him.

“Please, Shawn,” I pleaded, not sure of what I wanted, because as raw and rough as it felt, pressure was building inside me, and my hips were moving against his touch.

He tsked as he pulled my earlobe into his mouth. “Look at you, riding my fingers.” He slipped one inside and I groaned. “How many times have you come? Six? Seven? You want more, don’t you?”

I couldn’t answer; I couldn’t think. All I knew was that I never wanted it to end.

“Don’t stop,” I breathed, arching my spine as his fingers slipped in and out.

“Shhh,” he whispered into my hair. “Be a good girl and watch the show.”

Chapter 30