Spend Some Time (Eminem Fanfic)

26. You Are My Girl

Melody's P.O.V.

"Imma need you to put your arms up over your head and hold on to that headboard, baby," Marshall says in my ear, and before I can even question it, he's already gripping at my wrists and locking them over my head. "We are gonna try something new today. Cause like I just told you, I'm about to teach your ass a lesson about pissing me off so much."

I don't think much of it at first, but then I feel something starting to wrap around my hands, and I look up and see that he's legit trying to tie them up above my head with something, and I start to pull away from him so quick!

"Nope! No way in hell, Marshall," I say.

It was one thing for him to talk all that shit about tying me to beds, but there's absolutely no way I'm actually letting him do it!

I start to get up from the bed but he stops me.

"Don't you trust me, Mel?"

"Somewhat," I shrug.

"Do you think I'm gonna hurt you or something? Cause I would never do anything that's actually painful to you."

"I don't know, Marshall, it's just the control thing, I guess. I don't think I want you to have all the control like that."

"Oh baby, don't you think I already do control you?" He asks smugly and my eyes go wide. "I don't need to tie you up for that."

"Boy, you must he out of your mind. You don't control..."

"So let's test it out," he smirks.

I shrug and let him tie my hands to the headboard.

Big mistake.

Because when I tell you, Marshall wasn't lying when he said he was gonna teach me a lesson, he taught me a lesson alright.

Because I can hardly even move right now.

Something about when this white boy gets angry at you, like really fucking angry, he just gets so intense.

And the fact that he kept me tied up the whole time, I couldn't even more or...

I mean, he hasn't done anything to me that actually hurt me or that I didn't want to do, but it was still just...

Don't really know how to explain it, but long story short, I'm pretty sure that I'm dead right now.

Not in a bad way. In a real good way, but still...

I think, at some point, I was literally begging him to stop.

Or begging him not to stop, actually.

I can't even remember which one it was exactly, my whole brain is scrambled right now.

Marshall sure knows how to do that to my brain. Along with my other body parts...

"Yo, you want some breakfast?" He asks me, bringing me out from whatever daze I was just in.

I watch him walk back into the bedroom, fully dressed in his typical grey baggy sweats and a white wife beater.

I realize that I must have fallen asleep for a bit. Damn, he really messed-up me up pretty bad.

"Sure, I guess," I sit up in the bed.

I pull one of his oversized white t-shirts over my head, and he smirks.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing, baby. You look good with my stuff on. Now common," he pulls me by my hand.

We make our way down to his huge kitchen and there's a whole spread of typical breakfast food there.