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With his dark, beady eyes on me, Viktor began shedding his designer suit. Not in a seductive way, but a threatening one. He was tall and lanky. His head was shaved, along with his stringy arms and legs. His entire skinny body was hairless, courtesy of his whores who waxed him monthly. Victor’s intimidation was in his wallet, not his physical stature. He reminded me of a snake, one of those albino pythons.
He tossed his pants on the sofa.
A rush of heat traveled up my chest, my neck, all the way to the tips of my ears. I could practically feel the hives forming on my skin. Anxiety, fear, anger, I was rank with it all.
As he lowered his boxer shorts, his erection sprang out, skinny, purple, veiny. I almost vomited right then and there. I had to look away.
I don’t know how I knew, but this made Victor smile. My disdain for him aroused him. I recognized very quickly that I needed to learn how to control my reaction to my new husband.
“Look at me,” he demanded, standing in front of me now. When I didn’t, he grabbed my chin, digging his nails into my skin. Victor had long, sharp nails, a trademark of his, like his bald head. His pinky nail was painted blood red.
I lifted my gaze and cursed the tears that gathered in them.
“Take off your clothes.”
“No,” I said, my response pitifully weak.
The slap felt like a bomb detonating on my cheek. Pain reverberated through my jaw, my eye socket. The room spun, and it took a moment to get my vision back.
That was the first time Viktor hit me, though physical abuse was expected. What came after, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
“Now that we’re clear, I said take your clothes off.” His voice was quivering with arousal and bloodlust.
Victor was well known for picking on those weaker or smaller or of lower social status. A bully who got off on a power trip.
I loathed the man.
Fighting tears, I pulled off the sundress I was wearing, took off my bra, and slipped out of my panties. I stood before him, trembling and buck naked, forcing myself to appear strong and unaffected.
His jaw clenched as he shoved four fingers into my vagina, grabbing me like a bear trap. I winced in pain as his nails sliced both the outside and inside of me.
“You are my wife, Aleks. I will fuck you when, how, and anywhere I want to. Until you give me a child, in which case, you will be fed to someone else.”
A rush of air escaped my lungs as he withdrew his fingers, his nails coming away with my blood.
I knew that procreating with Viktor was the main reason, if not the entire reason, we’d been married. But I’d already made a promise to myself.
I would kill my baby rather than give it to that monster.
I’d already gotten the pills. He would not take that from me. My child, if such a gift was ever bestowed upon me, would not belong to him, would not be born into this world under such chauvinistic and brutal circumstances. My child’s life would not be messed up like my own. It was the one thing I could control.
I was thrown onto the bed, my legs shoved apart as he positioned himself on top of me. His skin was cold and clammy like a snake.
“Hit me,” he seethed, his putrid breath wafting over my face.
I blinked, shocked—horrified.
“Hit me, bitch. Fight me. Fight me like you’re worth something.”
He spat in my eye, and I slapped him across the face as hard as I could.
This scared me more than anything else. It wasn’t me. I wasn’t this person.
Screaming and crying, I fought like a trapped animal until I was exhausted, until my face swelled and my skin burned, until I saw this barbaric fetish was exactly what he wanted. He was dripping with precum when I finally surrendered, weeping like a child.
My arms were pinned above my head as he drove into me, dry and hard, my blood the only lubricant, the pain excruciating. He bit my neck, my breasts, the lobes of my ear so hard, I thought he’d actually bitten them off.
He finished quickly and I thought he was done.
