KEILAH
I squinted my drowsy eyes open, the warmth of the rising sun gently hitting my face as I stirred. Through the haze of sleep, I caught a glimpse of Dahlia slipping out of the room.
“Dahlia,” I whispered, but she had already gone. Was she sent by her alpha to check on me or if it was something else entirely? I wondered, my mind foggy with sleep.
As I tried to stretch my limbs, I realized I was ensnared in the tangled folds of the covers. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, frustration creeping into my voice. How on earth did I manage to get myself into this predicament? Did I unwittingly twist and turn in my sleep? I pondered, attempting to extricate myself from the fabric trap.
With a determined effort, I struggled to free myself from the fabric’s grasp, wriggling and rolling until I finally halted against a solid, unyielding form. Startled, I opened my eyes fully. My heart skipped a beat as I realized I wasn’t alone in bed-I was with Ralph. And he was shirtless. Panic surged through me, and I instinctively glanced down at my body, only to find myself completely naked. Shocked and startled, a scream tore from my throat, and in a blind panic, I lashed out, inadvertently kicking him off the bed.
In mere moments, he sprang to his feet, his muscles tensed as if poised for a brawl. Yet, before he could even muster a response, I barraged him with questions, leaving him speechless. Instead, he levelled me a penetrating stare that sent my heart racing towards a full-blown panic attack.
“You didn’t answer me,” I insisted, my voice trembling. “What am I doing in your room? In your bed, naked?” I forced the words out, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and fear of what his response might entail.
He ran a hand over his face, his frustration palpable, before scooping me up in his arms and walking towards the door.
“What are you doing? Put me down! I just want answ-” I barely managed to begin before he unceremoniously flung open the door and ejected me into the hallway, the impact of the fall jarring my senses and sending a wave of pain rippling through me.
“Is that man even human?” I muttered through gritted teeth, rubbing my sore backside. “Does he have a soul at all? Why does he act like he’s the victim?”
Clinging to the sheets wrapped around me, I struggled to my feet, frustration bubbling over. “How am I supposed to get back to my room like this?” I exclaimed, my voice a mixture of anger and desperation. “At least give me my clothes!” I pleaded, my words bordering on a whisper-yell.
“Get the hell out of here, human,” he spat, his tone sharp and cutting, causing me to flinch involuntarily.
Enraged, I unleashed a fierce kick against his door before pivoting on my heel and fleeing down the hallway.
As I reached the last stair step, I slowed my pace, casting furtive glances around the house to ensure no one was around. Satisfied that I was alone, I dashed across the main floor, my footsteps silent against the marble floor, and ascended another staircase that led to my room.
Once in my room, I began to pace, my mind racing to reconstruct the events of yesterday that had landed me in Ralph’s bed. I recalled following him downstairs, And then… nothing but a blank void.
I flopped down onto my bed, feeling the weight of confusion settle heavily upon my shoulders. It wasn’t like me to lose track of time or events like this. My mind usually operated with a precision akin to a well-oiled machine, but now it felt as if the gears were grinding against each other, refusing to turn smoothly. Oh God, have mercy. What did I do? He’s not the type of man I wanted to be with on my first time.
With a sigh, I rubbed my temples, hoping to coax some semblance of clarity from the fog that clouded my mind. But the harder I tried to recall, the more elusive the memories became, slipping through my grasp like grains of sand.
My body ached, both inside and out, making it believable that something had truly happened.
However, if it were true, walking would surely be a challenge. I needed to find out the truth.
I quickly sprang off the bed and headed for the bathroom. With a swift motion, I threw the sheets off my body and carefully examined myself, my fingers trembling as they traced my sensitive sex. I cautiously slid my finger inside my virgina, but I coiled sharply as pain shot through me. I immediately withdrew my finger, feeling relieved. Thank goodness I didn’t lose my innocence to that scumbag. But why was I scared, though? Now, this confirms my suspicions. He’s either into men or he’s impotent. It must be one of the two possibilities, I concluded as I stood up. As I turned around to leave the bathroom, I was startled to see Ralph right in front of me. The shock of his unexpected presence sent me reeling, and before I knew it, I was stumbling until I landed down the cold tiles. Stunned into momentary paralysis, I realized with horror that the position in which I fell left me exposed before him.
As I lay there, my heart pounded in my chest like a caged bird desperate for freedom. His gaze bore down on me, his expression inscrutable, his eyes dark pools of unreadable emotion.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly as we remained locked in each other’s eyes. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice cutting through the heavy silence like a jagged knife.
“What are you doing?”
I scrambled to cover myself, cheeks burning with embarrassment and rage. “What does it look like I’m doing?” I retorted, my voice trembling with a mixture of defiance and fear that he heard what I said about him.
I pushed myself upright. “What are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice wavering slightly despite my efforts to maintain a semblance of strength.
He advanced toward me with measured steps, each one sending a jolt of anticipation through my veins. I instinctively began to retreat, my heart racing with each beat echoing in my ears until I found myself pressed against the wall, nowhere left to go. His approach was deliberate, a predator closing in on its prey.
I lifted my hand, trembling, as if to halt his advance, feeling the warmth of his bare, powerful chest beneath my fingertips. His gaze shifted downward, meeting my touch with a silent intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. It was then that I realized: this was the same hand I had used moments ago to check myself.
Panic seized me, and I withdrew my hand hastily, but not before his grip intercepted it. Holding it up to his face, he inhaled deeply, the sound resonating in the charged silence of the bathroom. My stomach churned with dread as his eyes flickered, their colour shifting like the tides of a stormy sea.
In one fluid motion, he captured my other hand, causing the bed sheet draped over my body to slip, exposing me to his intense scrutiny. His eyes roamed over me, drinking in every curve and contour. A deep, primal growl rumbled from deep within him, sending a shiver of anticipation coursing through my veins, tightening every fibre of my being.
His proximity felt like a storm closing in, both exhilarating and terrifying. I stood there, trapped in the vortex of his presence, unable to tear my gaze away from the intensity of his stare.
With a predatory grace, he scooped me up, spreading my legs before closing any remaining distance between us, his breath warm against my skin as he leaned in, his lips dangerously close to mine.
What are you doing? My question was cut short by a searing kiss. His hands, large and overpowering, traced every curve of my body, leaving a trail of discomfort in their wake. It was as if he were driven by some unseen force, his actions fueled by a desire that bordered on obsession. He was being too rough, making me uncomfortable.
My mind was telling me that he was doing this because of what I had said earlier, but the moment I felt his hardness press against my centre, I started panicking. I wasn’t ready for this. The situation was getting out of hand, and it started to creep me out. I tried pushing him away, but he was too strong to budge.
Panic surged within me, threatening to drown out the rational voice that pleaded for escape.
Frantically, I lashed out and began slapping him, but he grabbed my hands and trapped them in his hand above my head. The next thing I heard was the sound of his pants zipper opening.
“No,” I pleaded, my voice cracking with fear and desperation. “Please, don’t do this. I’ll do anything you ask, but not this. I’m not ready.”
But my words fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the primal instinct that drove him forward. With a force that stole the breath from my lungs, he thrust himself inside me, tearing through the fragile barrier that separated us. The pain was excruciating, a searing agony that threatened to consume me whole.