Chapter 28 #2
Groaning, I try to curl myself into a ball.
I can’t see anything but I feel his hands grab at my ankles and yank me down the mattress roughly.
My hands go to my face and I hiss when my fingers reach my cheek.
I sob as I touch the already growing knot on my face, and Preston’s hands slide up my legs.
He reaches the waistband of my shorts again and I begin to flail.
My vision starts to clear and I look down to see him tug my shorts and rip them down my legs in one rough motion.
Sobbing, I start kicking wildly, praying I can fight him off in my hazed state.
No, no, no, no, no.
I try to scream but the pain in my throat prevents any sound from coming out. Still kicking, I feel a foot land into his stomach and he grunts in pain.
“Fucking cunt!” Pain explodes in my other cheek, this hit much harder than the last, and my vision goes black again.
My head feels as if it’s been cracked open, and I try to will my sluggish arms to my face, feeling the need to push it back together.
They begin to raise when I feel his hands wrap around my wrist. The sound of Preston’s belt sliding through his belt loops raises the panic I feel, and I try to pull them away.
A dark, evil chuckle comes from above me, and bile rises in my throat.
In my mind, I’m fighting like hell to get away from him, but I can’t move. I can’t scream. I can’t do anything.
Cold leather wraps around my wrists and is pulled so tight it feels like it might cut through my skin.
A scream leaves my chest and my throat burns, causing the scream to be cut short and tears to rapidly flow down my cheeks.
My vision clears again slightly, and through a distorted haze, I watch helplessly as Preston stands from the bed.
As if I’m watching the events play out from someone else's point of view.
He pulls his pants down and steps out of them, then climbs back on the bed.
He shoves my thighs apart forcefully and settles between them.
“Preston, no.” I croak through my sobs, but it falls on deaf ears. He growls and wraps his hands around his dick, pumping it a few times. Bile rises again and turning my head to the side, I vomit on the mattress.
“You’re fucking disgusting.” Preston growls and without warning, forces himself inside of me.
A pain I have never felt before rips through me and I shriek.
It feels like I’m being ripped open from the inside.
My breath is stolen from me as the feeling of white-hot fire consumes me and my vision disappears again.
Preston suffocates me under his weight, causing my bound arms to crush under him.
He begins to violently thrust himself in and out, and my pained screams do nothing to stop him.
His weight keeps me immobile while he continues to force himself in me, despite the fact that I’m not even a little wet.
Pain slices through me over and over again with each thrust. His hot breaths land on my neck and his pleasured groans echo in my ears.
I gag and that only causes him to pick up the pace and force of his thrusts.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I silently beg for it to be over. Forcing my brain to shut down, my body stills and my limbs turn into jello.
“That’s it, Butterfly. Relax for me.” Preston growls and I wretch again. His onslaught continues for what feels like an eternity, my body rocking with the motions.
Finally, he stills and I feel his dick pulse inside of me.
Attempting to keep down the bile rising in my throat, I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe deeply through my nose.
He pulls out of me roughly and I wince at the pain the motion causes.
Cracking my eyelids open, my sight is blurry and I attempt to focus on Preston’s movements.
He rises from the bed then disappears from the room.
I hear the bathtub turn on and begin to fill, then he reappears in the doorway.
He stands there for a moment and cocks his head to the side, eyes running the length of my exposed and violated body.
My body shakes violently as he watches me, and he smirks.
Coming to the edge of the bed, he yanks the tail end of the belt and my arms raise to his chest. He quickly undoes the binding and my arms drop back down to my side.
“Get up. Go take a bath and then get back in here and change the sheets. I’m not touching your puke.
” He says in an eerily calm and cold tone, then turns his back to exit the room again.
His footsteps track to the end of the hallway then down the stairs.
After a moment of holding my breath, I hear the sliding glass door open and then close–violent sobs rack my body and I try so damn hard to get it under control.
Finding a little bit of strength, I push myself off of the mattress and gently swing my legs over the side.
My feet touch the cold, hardwood floor and I stand on shaky legs.
I attempt to stand up straight but my body protests.
Hunched over, I gingerly walk to the bathroom.
The pain between my legs makes it nearly impossible to move.
I reach the bathroom and slowly remove my shirt.
Avoiding looking at myself in the mirror, I carefully climb inside the hot bath.
One hand gripping the side and the other planted on the wall, I lower myself into the water.
Nausea rolls through me when my bottom touches the water.
Forcing myself to sit, I wrap my arms around my legs and pull them into me.
Resting my head on my knees, I stare blankly at the wall.
Eventually, the water turns cold and I begin to shiver. Reaching forward, I push the button for the drain to let the water out. Something in the water catches my attention and I glance down. Another sob bursts through me and I cover my mouth to silence it.
Blood.
Bright, reddish-pink water surrounds me and I hurriedly lean over the side of the tub to throw up once more.
I wipe my mouth and robotically I pull myself to a stand and turn on the shower.
Scalding hot water pelts my skin as I stare at the blood that continues to drip down from between my legs and swirls down the drain.
Tears fall like rain drops into the water below me and a feeling I’ve never had before slams into me like a freight train.
A cold chill runs down my spine, and I feel dizzy as I grab onto the shower wall to keep me upright.
He’s going to kill me.