Free Loud is How I Love You by Mercy Brown

my shirt, touch me, move things along, but he’s taking it so slow. It doesn’t dawn on me that he’s just being careful—he doesn’t want to spook me again. I’m not here for slow, though, so I climb on top of him and his hard dick is all the invitation I need to take my pants off. He groans when I climb back over him and kneel there in nothing but black lace panties (because I definitely planned ahead this time), candy-striped kneesocks, and his favorite Pixies tank. And no bra, of course.
    “Jesus fucking Christ, Emmylou,” he says as he runs his hands over my ass. His thumb hooks the waistband of my panties like he might yank them down but he just keeps it there. I feel his other hand sliding up the back of my thigh, under the fabric and he rests it on my ass, sweeping his thumb across my skin. Now we’re getting somewhere.
    I lean down and kiss him again, feel him run his hands up my back, under my tank. I start licking and kissing his neck. I love the clean smell of it, the long and smooth contours. When I put my mouth on it, he breathes even harder and grips my ass with both hands, pulls me down right onto his dick and God, he feels so, so, so, so, so, so good. I start to suck on his neck, just like I’ve been wanting to suck on every part of him. I keep sucking right in the same spot, running my tongue overit, scraping my teeth as he’s holding me and rocking into me and I suck harder and harder and think,
Oh shit, he’s going to be pissed when he sees what I’ve done.
It’s March and as far as I know, Travis doesn’t even own a turtleneck.
    “Emmy . . .” he says in this accusatory tone. “You did not just give me a hickey, did you?”
    When I giggle and don’t answer he rolls me off of him, gets up, and walks over to the full-length mirror on the closet door. I follow him over and we both see this big, bright red-and-purple bruise right on the front—the front!—of his very pale neck. He looks like he fell down the stairs. I didn’t realize it would be so big, but I’m actually sort of impressed with myself.
    “Emmylou!” he yells at me. “What are you, thirteen?”
    I stand there and shrug like I’m thirteen, basically.
    “You did this on purpose?”
    “No, not really?”
    “You totally did this to get back at Millie, I can’t believe you.”
    I don’t even realize this is true until he says it. Then I feel sort of bad because I really want to laugh but I can’t tell if he’s actually angry or not. Then I just laugh because I can’t even help myself.
    “Good God, I have never in my life wanted to spank a girl as much as I do right now,” he says absently in the mirror as he’s inspecting the damage.
    My mouth drops open because I have never even considered the possibility of being spanked by anyone until just now. And I’m a little alarmed by how much it turns me on.
    “You marked me like I’m some sort of Catholic high school girl,” he mutters, apparently oblivious to the situation he’s just created in my underwear.
    “You’d look adorable in a plaid skirt and kneesocks,” I say, leaning my chin on his shoulder as I stand behind him, watching him in the mirror. “They go really well with hickeys.”
    “That’s it.”
    That’s all the warning I get before he grabs me, drops us both down on the bed, throws me over his knee and I swear to God I have no idea how to make sense of what I’m feeling as he pulls my panties down to my knees and my bare ass is exposed. I’m surprised his hard-on doesn’t give us both internal injuries. I’m shaking and I feel like I might come and he hasn’t even touched me yet. Can a girl come from having a boy just look at her naked ass? Is that physiologically possible?
    “You’re in so much trouble, Emmylou,” he says, running his hand over my ass. I tremble because I believe him, but I’m not exactly sorry.
    “I’m sorry,” I say anyway. He’s not convinced when I giggle like an idiot.
    “Oh, you will be.” He pins me