It was one of these hot summer nights, in which no one can really sleep. Tired she turned to her other side, searching for a cool spot on her bed sheet, while a thin breeze wafted over her skin, there, where her shirt had slid up to the underside of her breasts, softly whispering over her rips. When goosebumps grew on her bum, kissed by the cool air, she shuddered comfortably and stretched even a bit more, until her sleek stomach was bared. Her breath caught in the wisps of her curly hair when she snuggled her face into her pillow, slowly sinking into sleep.
With a jolt she opened her eyes, when she felt eyes roaring over her barren skin.
There was someone in her room.
The night wasn't as dark as it should be; faint light seemed to be hanging in the air, coming from nowhere and yet being everywhere, enough of it so she could see the tall figure standing at her bed's edge. Pale skin, black hair falling into his eyes, a sharp face. Everything about him looked ... average. And yet her very core screamed at her to hide, to run away, to just get away from him, because something about him was ... off. Grotesque, despicable, absolutely wrong.
His stiff penis jutted as if he had heard her thoughts - and liked them.
With flying breath she wanted to sit up, but her body didn't obey. Only her chest lifted and fell frantically, and her heart pounded in her throat. The rest of her body laid still under his parching eyes, looking at her as if she'd be a gift. HIS gift. Her shirt still hid her breasts, pronounced by her arms laying above her head and her chest stretching, and her slip was still on her hips, but the rest of her skin laid naked and unprotected before him.
And then he bent forward to run a single, cool finger softly across her stomach, from her solar plexus slowly down to the edge of her hipbone, and she wanted to scream. But from her mouth only came a tiny whimper, floating away in the silent night's air before really becoming audible.
He smiled.
"Rebecca", he hummed, in a dark voice that was supposed to be pleasant, her name. And Rebecca whimpered again when she felt cold nesting in her chest. Her name. He knew who she was. And he laughed quietly as if he'd listen to her frantic thoughts.
"Off course. You are mine", he said - and his hand splayed flush, possessively, on her hip and pushed, until her lower body laid flat on the bed. Only then he let his fingers glide upwards, for stopping this time at the hem of her shirt and softly, nearly lovingly, streaking over her rip bow. "My Rebecca", he murmured, and she shuddered again, when he finally met her eyes.
Darkness and flickering flames, heat, avidity and lust that took her breath away and made a tremble wander through her body.
It had to be a dream, it had to be a mistake, he, this, this couldn't be true...
And again he laughed, mildly and softly, as if listening to her every thought.
With one smooth movement he was next to her, his legs gliding against hers when his upper body bent over her, until his proximity vibrated on her skin, until his mouth hovered above hers. Gently one hand swept over her cold cheek.
"Don't be silly. You are mine. You know it. Deep down in yourself, where one part of you is waiting for me, for all your life, you know it. You always knew. I", he breathed just before his lips delicately touched hers, "am your destiny." And before she could breath, before she could process what he had said, he pressed his tongue into her mouth, splitting her lips open and kissed her till she couldn't breathe anymore. Vaguely she felt his fingers ghosting across her shirts, searching for the arch of her breast, and then he ripped her shirt apart and grabbed her breast harshly. She gasped, her breath swallowed by his mouth, and he let go of her lips and laughed, while she wanted to squirm, to fight, scream, scratch, kick - and her body just shivered, only a whimper in her throat and a shake under her skin, when his thump stroked her nipple, his fingers fierce and cool kneading her breast. Again he lowered his head, closing in on her mouth, and she yelled at her muscles to move, to bite him, when he'd come close. Smiling he scratched her nipple, pain bright and red proceeding from her chest through her body, and she squint her eyes shut.
"Sht, my love. Not tonight", he murmured into her ear before suavely kissing her neck, while his free hand glided to her other breast and ran coarsely over the skin, seizing her, centimeter for centimeter. When he pinched her nipple between thumb and forefinger, she mewled. "I would enjoy it, though." His voice rough from lust, his lips slid lower, until he, nearly playfully, bit in the nape of her neck.
"Resistance. To struggle with you about who'd be in control. I would enjoy it, every stroke, every bite..."
His tongue slipped soft, wet, warm over her throbbing chest, circling around her harassed nipple, while the other one was tortured by his thumb nail.
"I would enjoy it, because we'd both know, you and me, that you don't really want to win. Under the facade, behind your human face, your oh-so-demure breeding, below the fear and the pain of your body, we both know you're mine. And isn't there a spark, spreading inside of you, slowly, unstoppable, telling you that you want it?"
He bit down on her nipple, hard, and Rebecca heaved a groan when lurid, white pain scudded through her upper body. Faint tingle between her legs, in her core, answered, and Rebecca opened her eyes wildly, only to stare into his amused, hungry eyes.
"Believe me, love. I will enjoy it. Soon. But not tonight."
With one jolt he turned her to lay flat on her back, and placed her arms above her head like moving a doll. His hands were warmer than before when they stroke over her arms, down onto her sides, slowly gliding across her upper body, taking in every inch, until his fingers ended up at the hem of her slip, toying with it, while he sat back on his knees. His looks roamed over her skin, scorching it, wandering over her neck, where her pulse throbbed painfully, her barren shoulders, where he left wet spots she still could feel, her naked breasts, hastily going up and down in the cadence of her breathing, down onto her flat stomach, where his fingers had formed traces feeling like scratches. She couldn't understand what he was, what he wanted, she couldn't understand how he could even be here... But when she looked at him taking of her slip, nearly without touching her skin, pulling it down from her hips, her legs, and finally tossing it carelessly aside, she understood. She had no say in what was going to happen. In this night, in her home, her room, her bed, every bit of control was his. Not even her body belonged to her anymore, not under his hands, his looks. And while fear and disgust choked her, the tingle in her womb grew stronger, up to a soft pulsing and the hazy feeling of emptiness that wanted, needed to be filled.
As he shoved his hand to the back of her knees, the look he payed her was nearly caressing. As well as that he spend her when he made her limp body spread her legs for him pushing between her knees.
"Shall I make you like it, my love?" he asked, and his voice held amusement. His fingers glided up her inner thighs, slowly, millimeter after millimeter, towards her throbbing vagina.
"Shall I touch you? Kiss and lick you until you want to scream, until you beg me to fill you? Shall I caress you until you come, and thrust inside you just as you break, for your empty cunt to have something to writhe around? Would you like that?"
Rebecca felt tears rising in her eyes and her cheeks grow hot with shame. She wanted to scream, to yell at him to get lost, that his hands, his looks on her made her sick, that his pure proximity to her barren skin disgusted her, that just the thought of him touching her there felt like a violation... But only gasps and whimpers came across her lips, and even while a single tear made its way across her cheek her womb throbbed emptily and warm, and she felt embarrassed to the bones, because a tiny part of herself was aroused by it. By the way he looked at her. By her lying naked and vulnerable in front of him, for him to do with her whatever he wanted. By him touching her, talking about fucking her, making her wrench in lust and desire. Even by the pain in her breasts and the fear she was aroused.
