My heartbeat slows. My stomach rolls. A chill creeps over me.
There are footsteps. The intruder. He’s coming closer. So close he can touch me. I smell him, and he smells different to Javi.
I shake my head and thrash against the restraints, repeating the same thing over and over again.
No.
He wouldn’t do this. Javi wouldn’t allow anyone else to touch me. Because I’m his. That’s what he says. But it isn’t true.
I flinch when I feel fingers on my breast. Touching me. Groping me. My mind is playing tricks on me. But my ears aren’t. It’s Javi’s voice that betrays me. Cold and hard and cruel.
“Now you can have a go.”
I scream through the gag, and he moves away from me. Abandoning me. Footsteps echo down the hall. And with them, goes my fight.
The stranger drags his fingers down my body. Right between my legs. Humiliation and shame wash over me, followed by blinding hatred. I hate him so much.
I will never forgive him for this. Never.
I sob as the hands pry my legs open. And it doesn’t feel right because this isn’t Javi.
I want to believe it’s a trick. I want my Javi. But he doesn’t come for me. Not even when the stranger buries himself inside of me. The blindfold blocks the sight, but nothing else.
I can still feel him. I can still feel everything.
He fucks me. He touches the parts of my body that belong to Javi. He twists the plug inside of my ass. My bladder can’t take it. I’m too full. There is too much happening. And I’m still too sensitive. I hate this man. I hate his hands on my body, his fingers working me over.
I feel sick for responding to him. It’s not me. My body is betraying me too. Because I come again. And this time, the floodgates open.
Mortification burns my cheeks as the liquid drips down my thighs and over him. There is a muffled groan.
And then he’s pulling the plug out of me. Replacing it with his cock.
I shake my head again, protesting as he pushes inside. The place that no man has ever been before. The place that even Javi has not been before. I beg him through muted sobs. I fight. I twist and thrash and bleed when the ropes chafe at my wrists.
Eventually, my chest caves in on me, and the only thing to come out of my lungs is a god-awful wheezing sound. It isn’t the physical pain. This pain inside has crippled me. Javi has stolen everything from me. Right down to my last breath.
The weight of his malice has finally suffocated me. I can’t breathe at all. I’m deep in the throes of a panic attack. And this is how I’m going to die.
My fingers make one last feeble attempt to claw at my throat. An instinctive reaction. One still hindered by the restraints. I fall limp. I stop moving. I stop fighting. The stranger’s fingers come up to touch my face, and I turn away from him.
The gag slips out of my mouth. The blindfold falls away, and still, all I see is black.
My heart has lost the will to go on. My chest is full of cement.
“Bella. My sweet Bella. Shhh, it’s okay now. Just breathe.”
Javi.
My Javi. My cruel, cruel Javi.
I don’t want to believe it. My mind has invented this. I squeeze my eyes to keep them shut, and he tries to coax them open with words so deceptively soft.
“It’s okay, my Bella. Look at me.”
He sounds so real. And I have to know. I open my eyes. Certain I will be forever damaged. Forever ruined and betrayed and filled with this hatred.
His beard is the first thing that I see. And then the hood. I look down, at the place where we are still connected. And it has been him, the entire time. Inside of me.