It's four am on a Tuesday, so she buries her face in the pillow, trying to muffle the cries each thrust tears out of her. Her hands are bound over her head with HJ's belt, and a modified length of broomstick is holding her legs apart. The strap-on is almost too big, and HJ's hands on her hips are pulling her up and back with all the strength in her tattooed arms. she's so heavy, so strong when she knots one hand in Nelly's long hair and yanks her head back to bite her ear. Her teeth tug sharply at the tiny gold hoop Nelly is still wearing, and her breasts are paradoxically smooth and soft against her back. HJ only lets her touch them if she is very, very good, but has no compunctions about trailing her rock hard nipples over Nelly's skin and making her whimper. Her grip on Nelly's hair tightens, and she shoves her face down into the pillow, smothering her as she pulls out of Nelly's aching cunt, spreading her wetness up and using it to force her way into her ass in one long, brutal push.
Nelly squeals in real pain, the burning too much to bear. She sobs into the pillow, wetting the slip with tears as her thighs tremble uncontrollably. And then HJ's hand is under her, one callused fingertip rolling over and over her clit. She screams, coming hard and sinking her teeth into the pillow as she shudders under HJ for what feels like forever, moaning in pain as each contraction pulls her body too tightly around HJ's cock, each burst of sweet agony only making it last longer, until she feels as if she barely has the strength to breathe, quivering. HJ rocks into her a few more times just to hear her squeal again, then pulls out, unbuckling it and setting it aside. She frees Nelly's legs first, roughly massaging each one all the way up to her slick thighs, then unbuckles the belt, stretching out beside Nelly and pulling her into her arms. She whimpers, and tucks her bruised face in against HJ's chest, needing to be held. HJ strokes her hair carefully, and tells her that she's beautiful, that she's perfect and sweet.
After they've been lying there long enough for the sun to have started coming up in earnest, HJ's stomach growls, and Nelly giggles, sliding down to nuzzle her belly, kissing the downy fuzz that grows in a trail below her navel. "We've got steak and eggs."
"Anything will do." HJ gently pulls her up, her dark eyes aglow. She really is handsome, in that way that makes her look like a boy in a dress in the one childhood photograph Nelly has ever seen of her. She's much more beautiful like this, all that long penitent hair buzzed off, those hawk's eyes staring unashamed, dragons and tigers and serpents crawling up her arms, and the World Tree on her back, heaven at the nape of her neck and the underworld at her tailbone. Nelly could not possibly love her more, and kisses her deeply before standing up and shaking her wild blonde curls out of her eyes, wrapping herself up in her shell pink silk kimono, and shuffling into the kitchen.
She's not surprised when HJ follows to watch in only a pair of jeans, bare-breasted and unashamed as an Amazon queen, but she is surprised to see trouble in her face when she turns to look at her, setting the eggs into the grooves between the tiles of the kitchen counter to keep them from rolling. HJ avoids hitting her in the face most nights, and she's usually just as glad to let it go, but sometimes, like tonight, it is a wonderful and necessary thing. She hasn't seen the massive blue bruise on her cheek, and doesn't know her sudden and gut-wrenching resemblance to HJ's mother.
"HJ?" She's pulling out one of the kitchen chairs even as she asks, of course.
"I just--" She stalks to the stove and takes over, leaving Nelly to stare in shock. HJ never does housework unless Nelly is gone, sick, or too badly injured to do it. By the same token, Nelly hasn't taken out the trash or done anything involving rain gutters for the past two years. "I forgot how much I hate watching a woman cook with bruises on her face." She mutters, staring down into the skillet.
Nelly stares, then stands, and wraps her arms around HJ's waist, pressing her cheek to that broad back. "Love you." She whispers. She can't see it, but she knows when HJ smiles, all the same.