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“Teddy!” I scream.
No response.
I look to my side for anything I can grab to try and fight him off, but he acts before me. He clasps both of my hands in one of his, then uses his other to flip me over. He lets my hands go only long enough to pull them behind my back.
I feel like a fish out of water, jerking and kicking, but with his hands around mine and his knees engaging mine, nothing I do is any use.
“Teddy, please. Don’t do this,” I cry.
Again, he doesn’t respond.
Soft fabric loops around each of my wrists, then tightens, and everything in me goes still. My thoughts are erased. My body turns lax. And my fight completely evaporates.
“Hate me.” I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck as he pushes into me. “Please.”
The pain in his voice doesn’t match his actions, and it confuses me, but everything about Teddy since I’ve been back has confused me.
“I”—thrust—“need”—thrust—“you”—thrust—“to”—thrust—“hate me.”
Pains tears through my core as screams threaten to escape me, but I swallow them down. I won’t let him know he’s killing me slowly. He pulls out and I hear him spit before he dives back toward me.
He pushes his hand into the side of my face before hooking two fingers into my mouth and prying it open. Tears bite behind my eyes before they finally fall again, soaking the bed beneath me. And just when I think it’s finally coming to an end, he pulls out and flips me over.
One arm drapes over my stomach heavily as the other grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “Look at me while I do this.”
I give in to his command and stare at him with cold eyes and a quivering lip. His eyes are empty. Dead. Sweat beads down the side of his face, dripping onto me, feeling like battery acid. He bares his teeth and growls as he fucks me harder and harder, breaking my soul with every thrust.
Finally, he comes with a roar inside of me. His hand releases from my chin, but he keeps his arm over my stomach, trying to gather the last bit of strength he has.
When he finally pulls out, I’m not sure what to do with myself. My mind is a complete haze, and my body feels like it’s in shock. My arms are screaming to be released as the pain continues to pulsate from my shoulders all the way down to my hands.
He steps back into his pants and leaves the room like it’s just another day with zero care for me.
I stay in the bed, replaying the entire ordeal over and over again in my head. What did I do wrong? Why did I deserve it?
All questions I ask myself and can’t even answer. Everything I try to counteract it with is nothing more than a pitiful excuse to stick up for Teddy. Maybe he didn’t mean it. It was me, I made him angry, but that’s all bullshit. Teddy is a ruthless fucking criminal. A mafia leader. A murderer. Rape wouldn’t be something beneath him.
I stand from the bed and wince at how sore I am from being pried open. Cum trickles down my legs, sinking into the carpet, and I’m completely disgusted. All I want to do is get Teddy off me. He touch, his smell, his fucking cum.
I rush to the bathroom with tears flowing down my face and a sob finally breaking free. I try to turn the water on, but it’s no use. My hands are still bound, so I sink to the floor instead and let myself cry. I let myself really mourn because the man I loved really did die. All of the tears I’ve shed for that man don’t even compare to now. My Teddy is gone, and a monster is in his place.
