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It wasn’t even that big of a deal. On bruise, no big deal. Well, technically it was two hand shaped bruises that covered the expanse of my hips, but I wasn’t complaining.
Unfortunately, Ashton was. Though the bruises had long since gone, Ashton still remembered all too well the purple and blue marks that were left by his hands the morning after our first time together. Neither one of us were virgins in this relationship, so while slow and loving sex was all good and fine, our first time together was rough, dirty, and undeniably hot. I woke up the next morning feeling utterly satisfied and ready to relive that experience again and again.
Ashton, however, had different thoughts on his mind. I looked over, a goofy grin on my face, and saw that he was sitting up, his back against the headboard, arms crossed, and a frown in place. My smile quickly vanished as I sat up, pulling the sheets with me.
“Ash?” I asked him, touching his muscular bicep. When he felt my gentle touch on his arm, his eyes shut and his face gained the quality of guilt. “Baby, what’s wrong?” I pressed, rubbing my hand up and down his arm, trying to soothe him and not freak out about why he seemed so dissatisfied after last night. He seemed to be enjoying himself pretty well last night.
“Well that’s a name I just don’t deserve,” he said quietly, refering to me using the term of endearment ‘baby’ and grabbing my small hand in his rather large one. He opened his eyes and looked at me, his rich whiskey irises full of guilt and torture. “Y/N, baby, I am so so sorry,” he all but whispered to me. I frowned slightly, sitting up more fully and feeling a slight pain in my hip area, which I ignored for the moment, more focused on Ashton.
“What do you mean? Sorry for what?” I asked him, furrowing my brows slightly. He just shut his eyes, a pained look on his face as he exhaled sharply through his nose. Slowly, he moved the sheets back from my body. I looked at him confused. I wasn’t bothered by the fact that he was moving the blanket to leave me completely naked before him, more by the fact that he didn’t seem to want to look at my body. I was too busy studying his face to look down.
Ashton’s downcast eyes slowly moved up to hover around my stomach area, as his eyes got big and filled with sadness. I followed his gaze and looked down to my own hips, seeing the cause of his distress. Placed on either side were two large purple and blue hand prints, ones that directly matched the size of Ashton’s. Lightly so as not to hurt me, he allowed his fingers to trace over the angry marks, leaving a touch so light that I could barely feel it.
“Oh,” I said quietly, not really knowing what to say. It would be a lie if I told him I regretted a second of last night, because it was just about perfect in every single way. To me, the bruises were more of just a side effect, a little reminder of the night we shared together. I knew Ashton didn’t intentionally hurt me, so I wasn’t bothered by them, more glad that I was able to put him in that much pleasure that he gripped me so hard. I didn’t even feel pain at all last night.
“That’s all you have to say? 'Oh’? I hurt you like this and all you do is say 'oh’ like it’s not a big deal?” Ashton began, getting a little heated, though I knew it wasn’t at me, but at himself.
“Ashton, it’s really not a big-”
“Don’t you dare say it’s not a big deal, Y/N. Don’t,” he said, closing his eyes again, the pained look coming back. I reached out to him, lacing my hand with his and trying to talk him down from this ledge he was on.
“Hey, baby, listen to me. I don’t mind it, okay? I’m being completely serious here too,” I said to him at the skeptical look on his face. “Last night was seriously one of the best nights of my life, if not the best night of my life. I wouldn’t trade anything for it and I wouldn’t change a single thing about it, okay?” I told him, reaching up to cup his cheek. He leaned into my touch, but his face still held a frown.
