Elena's POV
I should have screamed.
I should have shoved him off me, slapped that smug, chiseled face, and told him to get the f**k out of my room like any normal twenty-one-year-old would.
But my body didn't get that memo.
My body had other plans. My body had been making other plans since the day mom walked through that front door six months ago with a man twice her age, smelling like old money.
Rick. My stepfather.
"Not until I'm done," he'd said.
And the worst part? The absolutely worst part?
I didn't want him to be done.
"Get off me," I whispered.
But it came out broken. Shaky. Like a prayer I didn't believe in.
He didn't move. His weight pressed me into the mattress, so heavy and warm and so f*****g close I could feel his breath on my lips.
"Say it again," he murmured. Hi
