This Relationship of Ours (+Extras)

Yellow

A "This Relationship of Ours" extra in which Mia wants to try something new in the bedroom, but ends up saying her safeword yellow. happy reading :-) 6k.

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Harry's voice is a soft murmur in Mia's ear, running a hand over her hair as she tucks her face into his neck. "Bet you hate me right about now, hm?"

"Could never hate you," she mumbles into his shirt. Her fingers tighten around the material, and she forces herself closer. He shifts a bit back on the bed they sits on to let her climb on him properly. "'S just that it hurt a lot."

"That was the point, wasn't it?"

"Yes. But still."

"What's your color?"

"It's green." She sniffles and runs a hand over her face. "Thank you. I'm okay."

His hand rubs her back gently, laying his cheek on top of her head. "Good. I'm glad to hear that."

Mia says she's okay, but she's still trembling and holding onto him tightly. She hardly ever sheds a tear when she's over his knee, which makes him happy that she's strong, but he'll always be ready to be there with tissues on the side table and soothing lotion. She's not crying right now, but she certainly would like more than what Harry's giving her. His soft hands holding her tight doesn't seem to be enough, so after a chaste kiss to her forehead, he slowly pulls away, whispering, "Let's get you in your pajamas, hm?"

She nods, but doesn't make an effort to let him go. He presses more kisses to her head, dragging them down to her cheeks, where she loves being kissed the most. "Alright, alright," she complains, a smile on her face as she pulls away from him, holding his face in her gentle palms. She places a kiss on his mouth and then slowly detaches herself from him. "Can you get them for me?"

He tucks her hair behind her ear. "You want my shirt or yours?"

"Think you know the answer to that." She looks up at him adorably. "I want the one you're wearing."

They both look down at his long sleeved black shirt. "Fine," Harry says, and Mia moves off his lap, eagerly waiting for his shirt to be extended to her. He removes it and hands it off to her. She takes her own shirt off and lets it drop to the floor, happily putting on her dominant's shirt.

"Ah, ah. Pick up your shirt."

Mia looks down at it and picks it up. She begins to walk to her suitcase to tuck the shirt into her suitcase, but Harry's hands quickly latch onto her waist and she stumbles as he brings her back to him. "Can see my hand prints," he says in awe, tracing his finger over her. "It hurt that bad?"

"Yes. But I liked it, sir. Gonna go admire the marks in the mirror."

"'S a punishment. Not supposed to like it."

"I don't not like anything you do to me."

"That's a relief." He kisses her tailbone, right above her blue underwear as a silent apology. "Go brush your teeth."

She checks over her shoulder. "Will you come?"

He sits back up, nodding. "Yes, go on."

"Okay."

He watches her leave, still surprised his actual handprint has translated onto her ass. He barely notices the limp she walks with because he's so endeared by the way she lifts the neck of the shirt up and inhales his scent as if it's her drug. She drops her shirt onto her suitcase and then wobbles over to the bathroom of their hotel room.

Harry stands up after a while, placing his hands in his grey sweatpants pockets. She's already brushing her teeth when he walks in and he just stands behind her, watching her. She glances at him with a quirked eyebrow through the mirror, mouth full of toothpaste. "Yes?" she asks.