Warning: Lots of mature content and strong language ahead. Read at your own risk. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
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Love is a messy, painful ordeal. Amelia Harold knew this all too well.
After all, she did fall in love...
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"ARE YOU DONE WITH THE QUESTIONS, then?" He asked, throwing the used cotton in the trash can.
"Are you done with doubting my morality?" she asked, arms folded over her chest in mock offense.
He wondered if smiling openly would be as bad as he was thinking it to be.
"You know I can punish you for talking back to me."
"You said I can talk to you normally when there is no scene going on."
"That is not what I said. I only gave you permission to call me by my name."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"Amelia," he warned.
She stood up abruptly, covering the distance between them with slow, hesitant steps.
"So punish me, then," she whispered, her fingers brushing against his arm.
Ethan took a step back.
"Are you feeling up to it? Because if you aren't, you can take the day off." he said.
"I'm perfectly fine." she smiled and it unnerved Ethan for some reason.
He gave himself an internal shake to get his thoughts in order.
"Okay," he nodded.
He closed the distance between them, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her off her feet.
He found himself being a little too gentle.
A startled yell escaped her lips when he threw her into the bathtub.
She pulled herself up from under the water, arms flailing and eyes wide.
Ethan took off his shirt. He felt the way her gaze stayed on him. He stepped inside the tub. The water came a little above his knees.
"Do you know how to signal a safeword?" He asked, making space for himself between her legs.
"Yes. You tap the nearest surface three times."
"Good girl," he nodded. He felt her legs tightening around his thighs.
"Strip for me, you whore," he ordered and her eyes widened momentarily before she nodded.
She stood up on slightly shaky legs and unbuttoned her shirt, shrugging it off. He yanked it from her grip and pulled it apart from the already torn sleeve. The fabric ripped, the entire sleeve first and then the neck of what once was a very decent looking shirt.
"What are you doing?" she yelled, reaching forward to rescue her shirt but he held her back with his free hand.
He stopped when he was sure that the shirt wasn't wearable anymore before throwing it on the floor.
