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I wonder if he knows what he’s doing to me. He’s making me an addict. He probably does know, probably loves it, revels in the fact that he can control me like that.
He’s selfish that way.
Every time I start to feel okay, he does it again. My body only knows the drugs he gives me. I just want a normal life where my fiancé doesn’t fuck with my mind, body, and soul every chance he gets.
My eyes grow heavy and flutter closed. “There we go, dahlia.” I peer up at him, seeing his blurry figure climb off me. It feels like I’m going to fall off the bed when he flips me over onto my stomach. My arms fall to my sides a second later. He must have cut the ties.
He flips me back over, pinching my nipple forcefully. “Watch me,” he demands, sliding off the bed. It’s hard to focus my eyes, but I do as he says. I watch as he strips out of his clothes. I see that body I once desired. The body that only destroys me, using me for his sick perversions. He took my clothes off earlier, before he tied me up and drugged me. I’m laid out naked on our bed, knowing exactly what’s going to happen next.
My gaze falls to his hand stroking his cock. The sight makes me feel like I’m going to throw up. I remember when I used to drool over him. His chocolate brown eyes are ones you get lost in. Especially in the sun, when the light makes them seem slightly golden, they’re the perfect color against his dark skin. His short, raven hair begged for me to run my fingers through it. But none of that compared to his chiseled body and massive cock. I used to want everything from him, but now I want to run from it.
He’s a handsome man with the body of a god. But there’s a monster underneath all the pretty, and it lives in my nightmares.
“Please,” I beg again, with tears streaming down my face. It’s starting to feel harder and harder to breathe. Like I’m suffocating on my own emotions, on the intensity of the situation and the torture I’m about to feel all over my skin.
“Oh baby, you know begging only makes me harder.” He tightens his grip on his hard length, groaning as he takes in my naked body.
We’ve been together since we were in high school, so we’ve had a lot of sex. Lots of awkward moments back then, since we had no idea what we were doing taking each other's virginities. But the way he’s looking at me now, it feels like he’s a stranger. Like he’s someone I can’t remember falling for in the first place. It makes me sick.
Right now, I’m glad I have the drugs to keep me company and to take away some of the hurt. I’m praying he gave me enough so the numbness takes over and I can’t feel anything. It’s easier to forget that way. Easier to forget that I’m tied to the spawn of Satan who only cares about how much he can make me cry while he leaves his marks all over me.
I just want to get this over with.
I want him to leave me alone.
I want him to die.
Or to go back to being the sweet Zayan who I fell in love with. Sometimes that man reappears. There are days when he acts selfless and loving, and makes me feel special. When they happen, I know they won’t last, but I still soak them up, hoping maybe he really has changed. It’s an act though. I know he’s no longer that man, though I just can’t figure out what changed him. Maybe he was like this the entire time, but I was too blind in the honeymoon phase to realize it at first.
I need him to change.
“You gonna give me what I want?” he asks, climbing onto the bed between my legs.
No. No. No.
I gulp, and don’t respond.
“You’ll give it to me, whether you like it or not. I own you. This is mine. You are mine. Anything I want, I get.” We both know he’s not talking about sex—which I don’t want either. But I can’t give it to him... I just can’t.
Ultimately though, it’s not up to me.
Zayan grabs my thighs, lining himself up with my entrance. My eyelids feel heavy, but I force them to stay open. I’ll be punished if I don’t give him my full attention.
“Fuck baby, you’re always so tight.”
He’s in already? The drugs must be fucking strong today, because he’s not small whatsoever. I feel a little pressure as he moves in and out of me. I try to control the panic washing over me, but the weight on my chest is making it hard to breathe.
Please end soon. I’m not sure if I’m talking about this moment or my life, but I’ll take what I can get if it gets me away from him.
I try to focus on anything other than my reality, but my brain can’t think of anything else. This isn’t normal. I can usually live in my imagination while he’s doing his thing.
Something’s wrong. I can feel it.
It’s different this time.
I can’t move my arms or legs. My eyes fall closed as darkness takes over. Why is this happening? My body feels like it’s closing in on itself. I can feel Zayan shaking me, and I can hear him saying something to me but it’s mumbled. He’s not making any sense; nothing makes sense right now.
Maybe I’m finally getting my wish. Maybe this is it for me.
