THE HOUSE

CELIA I should’ve known he was watching, he always is. The second I stepped into the apartment, the umbrella was still dripping rain on the marble floors….and I felt it. That hum in the air, it was a heavy, choking silence. Elias doesn’t yell when he’s angry unless he's at his peak, he waits and studies you, he lets the guilt boil under your skin until you start peeling it off yourself. He’s sitting in the dark, with the lights off and no music, just him. His legs spread like he owns the f*****g world and in this apartment, this penthouse cage wrapped in glass and gold, he does. "You laughed," he says. His voice is low and calm, which is worse than shouting, I don't answer, my hand tightens around the umbrella. "You shared an umbrella," he adds, slower this time, dragging each word like a knife down my spine, "With him." My heart drops to my stomach, he saw me, of course he did. "Elias, it was raining, and I didn’t…" He’s up before I can finish, his fingers like steel clamp around my wrist. One yank and I’m on my knees, the umbrella clattered to the floor beside me. "Did he touch you?" His eyes burn, with that feral amber gleam I’ve only ever seen when he’s about to ruin me. "No, I swear, it wasn’t like that…I" His hand is in my hair now, twisting it until I wince in pain, it felt sharp and quick, but it’s nothing compared to the fire in his gaze. "You're mine, Celia. Mine to look at. Mine to touch. Mine to f**k. You don’t laugh with other men." I try to look away, but he doesn't let me. "You want to be a slut? Fine, I’ll remind you what you’re worth." The belt is off in one motion, black leather hissing like a snake. I barely get a breath before I’m dragged to the couch, and my face pressed into the cushions. "I don’t need your permission." He never does. The first lash makes me jerk, not from the pain, but from the sound. That thick, horrible crack that echoes through my ribs. My dress rides up, and my thighs bare. The second lash leaves a welt heat blooming across my skin and by the third, I’m trembling and he hasn’t even started f*****g me yet. "You think you’re clever, Celia?" His voice is closer now, and his breath felt hot against my ear. "Letting another man hold your hand, sharing secrets under the rain, letting him look at what only I’m allowed to see?" “Count,” he says darkly, “You like to giggle with boys, Celia? Count for me my love” I can’t even form the words, my voice is gone, but I manage to croak, “One…” He slaps the side of my thigh, hard, and I jolt. “Louder” “Two!” He’s relentless and merciless, whipping me over and over again, I lost track of the count at ten, maybe twelve. My body goes numb but my mind stays sharp, because that’s what he wants. He wants me to remember, he wants to live inside my memories like a parasite. I try to speak, but my throat's sore, my body’s already betraying me, the heat between my legs are growing, my thighs are squeezing together like shame can stop the reaction. He feels it, he smells it and it drives him wild. "Filthy little thing," he growls, yanking my panties down to my knees. "Even now, you’re wet." I hate myself for it, I hate the way my body pulses for him, I hate that no matter how much I flinch, some twisted part of me aches when he stops. He doesn’t stop. His fingers plunge inside me without warning, two at once, rough and unrelenting, I gasp, but it’s swallowed by the cushion. "Tell me you don’t want this," he says, "Lie to me." I can’t, and I don’t even try. His belt is around my throat now, cinched tight as he enters me from behind, no prep or warning, just pain, pure pain. It rips through me like lightning, tears stinging my eyes. But he groans like he’s tasting heaven. "You’re mine," he repeats, each thrust was more brutal than the last, his c**k slamming into the in-depths of my p***y. "Every inch of you, inside and out." The belt tightens and my vision begins to blur, my hands claw at the couch as he drives deeper, faster, and harder f*****g me like punishment. I hate him and love him. I wish he’d stop, and I wish he never would. “Apologize my love”, he grabs my hair and kisses my neck, “I'm…sorry”, my voice was as low as a whisper “Say it again.” His voice is a low snarl behind my ear, his warm breath crawling down my spine as my body shakes beneath him, every inch of me trembling from a mix of pain, humiliation, and a darker intent, that I wish I didn’t recognize. “Please,” I whisper, choking on the word, my cheeks wet and my throat could barely muster anything else. His grip tightens around my wrists, pinning them to the headboard as he drives into me again, his c**k slamming into me hard, I scream out in pain, but he doesn't stop, he thrusts deeper, brutal, and unforgiving, with no rhythm or care, just punishment. “I said…” his teeth graze my ear, “Say it again.” “I’m sorry,” I cry out, squirming beneath him, hating the part of me that longs after him, that aches to be held after, “I shouldn’t have laughed, I swear I didn’t mean anything, I didn’t…” “You smiled at him, Celia,” Elias growls, his fingers biting into my hip, “You shared an umbrella, you let him walk you home like he was worthy of something that belongs to me.” “I didn’t ask him to!” I scream, not out of defiance, but desperation, “It was raining…he just offered…he didn’t even touch me!” “Oh,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my jaw gently, “Then let’s make sure the next time you think of smiling at someone else, your body remembers how I remind you.” He flips me over like I’m weightless, like I’m nothing but a thing to be used, and enters again, harder this time, angrier, I could feel his d**k at the edge of my p***y, like he wants to stretch me more than he already has, I bite down on the pillow, sobbing into the sheets, my voice muffled and my tears soak the cotton. With one final thrust, he cums inside me and pulls out finally, dripping down my thighs, I’m shaking and my voice is gone, my skin slick with sweat and tears. He leans down, and his lips brushing my ear. “You know what I hate most, Celia?” he whispers, running his knuckles down my spine like he didn’t just break me, “The thought of you laughing with someone who isn’t me.” “I’m sorry,” I croak again, my voice barely audible, “I wasn’t…I wasn’t trying to…” He kisses my shoulder, “I know.” "But I ever see you smile at another man again," he whispers, "I'll cut it off your f*****g face." He kisses my temple and walks away, leaving me ruined, like always.