The Rejected luna

The sliding

Now take off your clothes! His voice reverberated like thunder as he roared once again. My hands shaking against my ripped clothing, I froze. My whole body trembled, not just from fear but also from the anger that was building inside of me. This was humiliation, a last-ditch effort to shatter me, not just cruelty. "No." I said in a barely audible whisper. Immediately, his eyes darkened, blazing with rage. "What were your words to me?" "I declined!" This time, despite my inner voice telling me to stop talking, I spoke louder.

The blood on my face blended with my tears, but I wouldn't look away. "You can murder me, beat me, or whip me." However, you cannot deprive me of my dignity. Silence for a moment. His nostrils flared, his jaw tightened, and for the first time I noticed hesitation instead of haughtiness in his eyes. He growled and moved closer till his shadow engulfed me, asking, "You think you're strong, Luna?"

"You believe you can live by defying me?" He ran his dagger along my shoulder, scraping it across my skin before coming to a rest just above my heart. "Are you okay with me ending you right now?" To my surprise, I spat back, "Do it." "Go ahead, Roman! Put an end to me and demonstrate that you are nothing more than a coward who hides behind blood and fear.

The blade pressed harder against my skin as his hand jerked. He started to breathe irregularly, almost unsteadily. It seemed as though my remarks had struck a deep place that he didn't want others to see. "You don't comprehend," he said to himself, almost in a whisper. "You have no idea who you are." "What I am is not your slave," I gritted my teeth and uttered. His eyes fluttered once more for a heartbeat, exactly as they had when I called his name. As if recalling himself, he snatched me by the arm and threw me against the wall after his grasp relaxed. He said, "You'll repent this defiance." "I'll show you what happens to people who reject me tomorrow. You will beg me to die. He then bounded out, slamming the door so forcefully that the walls shook. My chest heaved with relief and fear as I fell to the ground, gasping.

Even though my body was in excruciating pain, my soul had made it through another night. "Moon goddess," I muttered into the night while clinging to the ripped material of my shirt. "Give me courage. Because I promise that I will not be destroyed by this monster. "Now, take off your clothes!" he yelled, his voice booming against the room's walls. My breath seized in my throat, and my hands shook. Something about the way his gaze lingered, dark, focused, hungry, made my body freeze, even though I was feeling a maelstrom of fear.

I pulled the ripped cloth from my shoulders piece by piece, slowly, with shaking fingers, until I was naked in front of him. I was positive he could hear my heart beating so loudly. Roman moved closer, his chest heaving and heaving. I briefly feared that he would hit me once more. Rather, his palm touched my cheek, surprisingly kind on my damaged flesh. He mumbled, his voice suddenly huskier, "You're trembling." His eyes pierced mine, and his thumb touched my lower lip, remaining there. I muttered, my voice cracking with weakness, "I detest you." A menacing smirk twisted his lips. "Then despise me as I give you feelings that no one else could." His lips found mine before I could object. Initially harsh and domineering, he suddenly softened and began to tease and coax. I was out of breath as his lips slid against mine with a slow, purposeful hunger. Heat stirred in my belly against my will. I was betrayed by my body.

A whimper escaped my voice as I shuddered as his tongue touched mine. Roman's hands moved slowly down my shoulders, following every mark and scar with a sort of sinister awe. He said, "You're mine," against my skin as he kissed me down my neck, biting just firmly enough to cause me to gasp. His palm slipped over my waist and pressed me back against the bed, weakening my knees. Every motion was methodical and controlled, as if he relished torturing me with the excruciating slowness of it all.

With a voice full of desire, he whispered in my ear, "Tell me to stop." However, I was unable to. I didn't say enough. Instead, my body arched into his touch, desiring more and detesting the fact that I needed it. And I bit my lip to contain my cries when he finally slid into me, slowly, deeply, and purposefully. A mixture of pleasure and pain, fear and forbidden desire, surged through me like a fire. His movements had a harsh yet enticing pattern, destroying every barrier I attempted to erect with each thrust that claimed me and each breath against my neck. "Say it," he growled, sliding painfully slowly in and out while his lips touched my ear. Declare that you are my. This time, my eyes were pierced by the awful realisation that part of me wanted to comply, not by pain.