The sound seemed to spur him on, his hips moving faster, the slap of his flesh against hers growing louder. Aurora felt her body betraying her once again, her walls tightening around him, the beginnings of an orgasm she never wanted building within her. She tried to focus on the pain, on the anger and the fear, but it was as if her body had a mind of its own, responding to his touch even as her mind screamed for it to stop.
Damian’s grip on her hair tightened even further, his other hand moving to grip her hip, his nails digging into her flesh as he drove into her harder. She could feel the tension in his body, his muscles coiled like a spring, ready to snap. And she knew that when he did, he would take her with him, claiming her completely in a way that she had never been claimed before.
Aurora’s moans grew louder, her body moving in a silent protest against his dominance. Yet with each slap of his hand, with each brutal thrust, she felt a strange thrill. It was as if her body was defying her, as if it was eager to give him what he wanted. She felt the beginnings of an orgasm she had never wanted, never asked for, but it was there, growing stronger with every second.
Damian’s breathing grew ragged, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. “You like it,” he murmured, his voice dark with satisfaction. “You like being mine.”
Aurora wanted to deny it, to scream that she hated him, that she’d never want this, but she couldn’t. The truth was written in the way her body was reacting to him, the way her hips were moving in time with his, the way she was pushing back against him, begging for more.
The orgasm hit her like a storm, her body shaking with the force of it. She couldn’t hold back the cry that tore from her throat, his name a curse and a plea. Damian’s eyes widened in the mirror, a smug smile playing on his lips as he watched her fall apart. He thrust into her one final time, and with a roar, he came, filling her once again.
Her legs gave out, and Aurora would have collapsed if not for his hand on her hip, holding her in place. He remained inside her for a few moments, his chest heaving, before withdrawing and releasing her. She straightened slowly, her body feeling both used and alive, a confusing mix of sensations that only added to her emotional turmoil.
Damian turned off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. He offered her one, but she took it with trembling hands, unable to meet his gaze. He watched her as she dried off, the towel barely concealing her bruised body. He was so calm, so in control, it was infuriating.
“Go to your room,” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth or concern. “Rest. You’ll need your strength.”
Aurora took the towel and wrapped it around herself, feeling the roughness of the material against her tender skin. She didn’t dare to argue, knowing that pushing him further would only lead to more pain. She walked out of the bathroom, her legs wobbly from the exertion and the trauma she had just endured.
In her room, she collapsed onto the bed, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the coldness of the floor she had just been on. She lay there, curled into a fetal position, the warmth of the shower fading away, leaving her feeling cold and exposed. Her mind reeled with the events of the night, the way he had used her, the way she had responded despite herself.
Aurora felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she angrily wiped it away. She refused to cry for him, refused to let him see how much he had broken her. She had to find a way out, had to find a way to regain control of her life. The thought of her mother’s betrayal burned in her chest, fueling the fire of her resolve.
Then she realized Luna wasn’t there. The room felt empty without her friend’s comforting presence, and Aurora felt a sudden pang of loneliness. She had grown to rely on Luna’s strength and kindness, the one bright spot in this dark, twisted world she had been thrust into. Where was she? She was too tired to look for her so she slept off.