Forced Intimacy And Agonizing Pain

The bedroom door swung open before I could even process the heavy footsteps in the hallway. Damian stood in the doorway, soaked to the bone from the relentless pouring rain outside. Water dripped from his dark hair, pooling onto the hardwood floor. Without uttering a single word to me, he strode straight into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him, followed moments later by the steady rush of the showerhead.

Unable to sleep due to the underlying tension, I pushed the covers aside and got out of bed. I obediently laid out his clean pajamas on the mattress and stepped out onto the rainy balcony to wait. The cold drizzle hit my face. The night sky was a bruised purple, and the sound of rain hammering against the roof tiles drowned out my racing thoughts.

When Damian finally emerged from the bathroom with only a white towel wrapped tightly around his waist, water cascaded down his muscular chest. He glared at me with a commanding presence.

He coldly ordered, "Come here!" His voice was a flat, unyielding demand.

Thoroughly accustomed to his abrasive treatment over the past two years, I obediently walked over to him, keeping my head slightly bowed. He aggressively threw a damp towel at my chest and issued a raspy command: "Dry my hair."

Submitting to my role, I knelt on the bed behind him as he sat on the edge, gently drying his wet hair. Hoping to bridge the icy silence, I gently reminded him, "Tomorrow is your grandfather’s funeral. We should head over there earlier."

I knew that with his entire attention consumed by his beloved Sienna, he was prone to completely forget his familial duties if I did not explicitly mention them to him.

Damian's response was an incredibly indifferent, "Alright!"

Once his hair was dry, I tossed the towel aside. Exhausted by the physical toll of my six-week pregnancy, I slipped beneath the bed covers, fully expecting Damian to retreat to his study to sleep, as was his usual habit. However, in a strange turn of events, he joined me in the bed. He forcefully pulled me into his arms and initiated a harsh, bruising kiss.

Caught off guard, I hesitated, stammering, "Damian, I..."

He immediately interpreted my hesitation as defiance. "You don’t want to?" he uttered, his dark eyes exuding a freezing, wild aura that left no room for refusal.

Knowing I had absolutely no choice in the matter, I submitted. He pinned my wrists to the mattress, his heavy body pressing me down. He pushed my legs apart, his hands rough and impatient. There was no foreplay, no gentle preparation, just a mechanical drive to conquer. He shoved his hard cock deep into my dry vagina, tearing a sharp gasp from my throat. The friction burned, ripping through me with every aggressive, unforgiving thrust. I squeezed my eyes shut, my fingernails digging into my own palms as his penis pounded inside me. The intimacy was entirely devoid of love or gentleness.

I bit my lip to hold back the cries, terrified for the tiny life growing inside me. The baby was only six weeks old. The brutal force of his body slamming against mine felt like it could end my pregnancy right then and there.

Immediately afterward, Damian pulled out and rolled away without a single word of comfort. He just turned his back to me, leaving me curled up on the bed in sheer, agonizing pain. I lay there sweating profusely, completely refusing to take any painkillers out of fierce protection for my unborn child.

The rain outside intensified, thunder rattling the windowpanes. As the clock struck 11:00 PM, Damian's phone buzzed loudly in the quiet room. My heart sank. I instantly knew that only Sienna would dare to call him at such a late hour, and only she would get away with it.

Damian sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist. He stepped out of the bed to answer the call, his face quickly contorting into a deep frown. I could not hear Sienna's voice through the speaker, but her manipulation was effective.

He yelled into the receiver, "Sienna, stop being reckless!"

Hanging up immediately, he walked over to the closet. He began frantically dressing in fresh clothes to leave the villa and rush to her side.

Normally, I would feign ignorance, close my eyes, and let him go. But this time, driven by desperation and the impending funeral, I reached out and held onto the sleeve of his shirt. I begged him gently, "Can you not leave tonight?"

He stopped dead in his tracks. Damian’s handsome face radiated a chilling, unpleasant aura as he stared down at me. He sneered frigidly, asking if I was trying to be cheeky just because I thought I had gained some sort of edge over him.

Feeling reduced to an absolute joke sitting there bruised and aching, I refused to back down, meeting his harsh gaze. I reminded him again that tomorrow was his grandfather’s funeral, boldly suggesting that he should control himself tonight even if he could not let go of Sienna.

Damian's reaction was swift and violent. He squinted his dark eyes, interpreting my plea as a challenge. "Are you threatening me?" he asked, his voice a dangerous hiss.

Before I could blink, his large hand violently closed around my throat, choking me forcefully. As I clawed at his grip and struggled for breath, he responded with chilling indifference, mocking me by saying, "You’re really something now, Adeline."