23
Yulia
Kirill’s breath is hot and fetid on my face, and his massive bulk is like a mountain on top of me, crushing me into the cot. My insides heave with horror and disgust, and I feel my mind sliding toward the dark place where I don’t exist and can’t feel this.
No. With stark clarity, I know that if I go there, I’m lost. I’ll never emerge from that darkness. I have to stay conscious. I have to fight.
I can’t let him destroy me again.
Suppressing my instinctive inclination to struggle, I let myself go limp, my wrists relaxing in Kirill’s brutal grip. I don’t react as he drags his tongue over my cheek, and I don’t tense as he parts my legs, settling heavily between them. He needs to think me dazed and tamed.
It’s my only chance.
I feel his c**k, hard against my bare thigh, and nau
