1 - Harper
⚠️This story starts with a pretty graphic assult scene. Please consider your mental health before you continue ⚠️
The key clicks in the lock and a heavy hand pulls at the handle.
I jump from the couch, stashing the romance book I’m reading back on the bookshelf in between a medical textbook and one on Sumarian history.
By the time I hear footsteps in the hall, I'm already in the kitchen, smoothing the skirt of my dress.
My husband is a man that demands a specific kind of lifestyle and he always gets what he wants.
He wants to return home to a beautiful wife, clean home and a freshly cooked meal.
I can’t let him know that I was lounging about reading smut while he was hard at work all day. I need to look busy. I won't make the mistake of looking ‘unproductive’ again.
Grabbing the fresh lemonade that I made earlier, I pour him a drink.The sharp, bright sound of the ice clinking in the glass drowns out the sound of his footsteps behind me.
Strong arms wrap around my waist and I flinch instinctively. My muscles relax as I sink into him. His expensive cologne fills the space, making its way into my senses and helping me to melt. Thick arms pull me back against the hard wall of his chest. His arms hug me tighter and I let my head drop back onto his shoulder, offering my throat to him as he trails little kisses up my neck to my jaw. I let out a soft sigh of contentment.
“Good day?” He asks, his stubble is a familiar tickle against my neck
“Mmm-hmm” I reply. Turning in the circle of his arms to smile sweetly at him, and hand him the glass, the condensation cold and wet against my hand.
“I made this for you”
Luca smiles and takes a sip as he watches me over the rim of the glass.
Letting out a deep sigh, he puts it back down on the counter, pain in his eyes, as he studies the bruises on my face.
His hand cups my cheek, thumb gently grazes under my eye, where it is bruised and swollen.
Last night a migraine turned my world into pulsing, agonising strobe lights. I didn’t feel like being awake, let alone cooking. I met Luca when he got home, with my hair piled messily on my head, and all the lights off and quietly asked if we could get a takeaway instead.
That request was apparently, the unforgivable act of a traitor against his peace
The act was worth him beating me until my skin split and my soul bruised.
It was worth the hour I then spent scrubbing my own blood from the grout while my head throbbed in time with my ribs.
It was worth standing at the counter preparing a salad starter, a meaty main course and something sweet for desert that he never intended on eating.
Instead, the roasted duck sat on the table, congealing in its own fat, while Luca sat on the sofa, eating pizza from a cardboard box without saying another word.
He let the smell of his greasy meal float around the house while my hard work turned to stone.
I wont make that mistake again.
Now his fingers touch my skin with such a gentle reverence as if I’m made of the most delicate china and he’s afraid he’ll break me.
The brush of his fingers calls a lump in my throat. Leaning my face into his touch I close my eyes against the stinging tears building behind them.
“I’m so sorry angel” He whispers with a convincing tremor of regret in his voice
“I hate to see you bruised like this” His brows are furrowed, a look of beautiful guilt on his face.
He leans forward and plants feather-light kisses all over my face, all over each cut, each bruise, each place his fist connected with my skin.
When his lips touch mine, he whispers
“I love you so much.” and I swallow his breath, choking down my sob.
The tragedy isn't that he's a monster. He's not.
The tragedy is that even after he pulls me apart and breaks me into tiny peices, I wait patiently for him to sew me back together. I crave these moments where his careful fingers hold me steady and tug the threads that stitch me back to something whole.
His hands slowly move from my cheeks, to the back of my neck, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin behind my ears, before moving down my shoulders.
As we kiss, he licks my lip that he split with his wedding ring, so gently, as if he's trying to heal me with his touch. The brokenness in me believes that it’s working.
His hands continue down my body, as they graze my chest, his thumbs rub small circles over both of my nipples over the fabric of my breezy yellow sun dress. A dress I chose to appease him. I whimper into his mouth urging him to continue, tasting my tears on his tongue as it continues to explore my mouth.
His fingers continue down my body, leaving my breasts, to follow the curve of my waist, when he lifts me suddenly with a show of strength and sits me on the kitchen counter. The shock of cold marble against my bare thighs makes me gasp.
Without breaking the kiss, his hands land on my knees, pushing them apart so that he can step in between them. I can feel his hard length pushing against my underwear and heat surges throughout my body making my toes curl.
Both of his hands glide slowly up the inside of my thighs from my knees at an agonisingly slow pace, pulling my dress up with them.
When he reaches the top of my thighs, he uses both thumbs to graze my clit over the mesh fabric of my underwear. He keeps a slow rhythmic pace that makes my breath hitch.
I gasp as he pulls his mouth off of mine, so that he can look me in the eyes. His mouth swollen from our kiss,his breath still heating my face. Navy eyes, so rich and deep, they stare into my soul.
“Can I make it up to you?”
His voice is so gruff, a low vibration that sounds like he’s barely hanging on. The longing in his eyes makes me feel like I'm the center of his universe.
I nod, unable to form words through the thick fog of my mind.
His thumbs continue their assault under my dress. The mesh of my underwear is a useless barrier that is becoming soaked with my arousal.
Luca’s hands can be cruel and they can give pain. But they also know how to take me to unbelievable heights. This man knows my body inside and out, every curve, fold, wrinkle. He knows exactly where to touch, tease and taste to have me seeing stars and screaming so loud that we wake the neighbours.
“Don’t cry angel, Daddy’s gonna make it all better”
His mouth is back on mine for a second before he moves his tongue up to lick the tears from my face.
“Yes sir” I sniff, trying to pull myself together.
I've never liked the ‘Daddy’ talk that he does, but right now I am starving for the relief that he's offering. I need him to make this pain go away, to make me feel something other than the hurt and betrayal, so I will go along with whatever he wants.
His mouth makes its way across my jaw, and back towards my ear.
“You want daddy to make you feel good?” he asks, taking my earlobe in between his teeth and giving it a sharp nip that sends a shock of electricity through my whole body.
“Yes. Oh God Yes” I gasp,
Throwing my head back, I let out a long moan when he sinks two fingers into my pussy and curls them forward, hitting just the right spot.
“Then ask nicely pretty girl”
His breath is hot against my ear as he whispers to me. Luca’s voice is so deep and gutteral, I'm nearly undone from feeling it vibrate over my skin.
“Please Daddy.” I pant
“Please… make me cum”
His lips move to the column of my neck. His free hand smoothes up my body, hooking the top of my dress pulling it down to expose my breasts to the cold air, my nipples already hard.
“Look at me Harper” he demands.
My head snaps forward at the command. I watch as he takes my pierced nipple into his mouth, eyes never leaving mine. He sucks gently before his tongue swirls in slow circles.
In his eyes, I see such a twisted adoration. I am so consumed by this man that he could turn me inside out and I would thank him for the privilege.
I watch him with sickening fascination, how can anyone be this attractive?
It's a trap.
His dark hair, perfectly styled everyday before work. A few inky stands now fall down in front of his blue eyes as he leans down to take my body into his mouth. The tattoos on his arms, visible beneath his rolled up shirt sleeves disappear under my dress.
Time stops and the only sounds in the room are my shallow, panting breaths and the obscene wet noises his fingers are making between my legs.
The hand that had pulled my dress down to expose my breast now travels up my chest, towards my throat, his fingers bump the pendant that dangles from my neck, before his hand wraps gently around my throat. Breaking eye contact with me, he glances at his hand and something in his face doesn't just change, it's like a light goes out. Extinguished.
His fingers go still inside of me.
I rock on his hand, my mind a blur of hunger, desperate for the friction again.
“Please Daddy, I’m so close” I beg
His eyes snap back to mine and his hand tightens around my neck.
My blood runs cold, the heat of the moment turns to icy terror.
There is fury in his eyes.
I am totally still. I know this look. Something has shifted under his skin and taken over his body.
“What the fuck is that?” He says through gritted teeth.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
“What?” The word is a thin thread, I genuinely don't understand the question.
He grips tighter and it’s getting hard to breathe.
“This!”
His hand appears from between my legs to grab the pendant around my neck.
The hand around my throat squeezes tighter and I can’t get the words out to tell him, I can't get the air to scream.
My fingers become frantic, animal things. Pulling at his wrist trying to get him off of me, nails scratch his skin as I get desperate.
“Who the fuck gave you this?!” he roars
I try to shake my head, to let him know no one gave it to me.
The little black pendant around my neck, I bought myself from a charity shop a few weeks ago. I thought it was pretty with the black stone in the middle and an ornate brass pattern around it.
“Who’s cock have you been sucking to make them buy jewellery for you?”
My vision begins to dissolve into black static as my lungs scream. My legs have joined the fight to get him off of me. I’m still clawing at the arm holding my neck and kicking out at him, desperately trying to free myself.
Then the world explodes.
His hand shoves me down, slamming my head against the stone worktop of the kitchen island. The sound of the impact is a sickening thud. My vision blurs as a wave of nausea rolls over me but the pressure on my neck vanishes. I choke in a huge gulping breath and cough until my lungs feel like they’re on fire.
“Tell me!” he screams, inches from my face.
“Who have you been whoring yourself out for you fucking slut?”
I shake my head, the motion making the room spin.
“No one” I choke out between gasps
“I bought it…for myself”
“Bullshit!”
Fisting my hair he yanks me off the counter to stand on my feet.
I wobble, and try to grab his hand. I feel a warm, wet slickness at the back of my head. When I pull my hand away, it's covered in crimson.
“Luca, please.” I try to reason with him
“I bought it in a charity shop… I can find the receipt… we can go there…”
“You think I don’t know Harper? That you’re the town fucking whore?”
He sneers at me, face face a mask of disgusted superiority
“You’re an embarrassment. I don’t know why I keep you around. There’s only one thing you’re good for and apparently every guy in town has had a try on your used up old pussy”
I’m sobbing now, big, ugly tears pouring down my face while I try to catch my breath. I hate when he turns into this grotesque force, when he says these things to me. I never have and never would cheat on him, I wish I could make him understand. I would lay the whole world at his feet and only ask that I can live in it.
My fingers still put up a useless fight against his in my hair as he shoves me to my knees. I hit the tile with a scream.
“Open your mouth” he growls at me.
The crack of his belt pulling free from his trousers fills the room. His cock bouncing up as he pulls it out.
“Show me how you earned that necklace. Suck my cock Harper like I’m your lover”
“I didn’t, Luca… I swear, I would nev-”
His fist collides with my jaw, knocking me backwards where my head hits the tiled floor.
Immediately his hand is in my hair again, before I have time to process the pain, pulling me back up to my knees.
“I said suck it bitch, don’t make me fucking tell you again”
Despite the stars in my eyes and the world around me spinning, I open my mouth for him.
Luca grabs the back of my head and I cry out around the monster in my mouth. The sound of my scream doesn’t stop him from gripping my hair tightly while he forces himself down my throat. I cry and gag around him.Trying to swallow down the vomit threatening to climb from my abused throat.
His pubic bone hits my nose with every thrust.
I ball my fists tightly, keeping them stuck to my thighs to stop them from pushing him away.
“This isn’t much of a performance Harper, I know you can do better than this.” He growls as he continues his harsh, punishing movements
“Or are you saving your best work for the assholes that buy you cheap shitty jewellery now?”
I can barely breathe let alone suck or lick him, but I am trying, I need this to be over.
“Fucking useless”
He grunts after a few more thrusts.
Pulling out of me, he pushes me back onto the floor. I manage to catch myself this time, but my left hand lands at an unnatural angle on the floor and a bolt of searing pain shoots up my arm. Before I can even scream, Luca is on me, straddling my hips. His weight is a crushing anchor that pins me to the floor.
He grabs the pendant and yanks it from my neck, breaking the chain and my skin in one violent pull.
“Open your mouth” he growls at me,
I obey instantly with the reflex of a trained pet. Until he dangles the pendant above me and I slam my lips shut.
“Open. Your. Fucking. Mouth.” He emphasises each word with a terrifying calmness.
I shake my head as tears blur my vision, he grips my jaw with one of his hands, squeezing so hard, I fear it might actually break. When that doesn’t work, he pinches my nose. I fight him, thrashing and begging with my eyes and muffled whimpers not to do this.
It isn’t long before my body overrides my will and I have to open my mouth to take a breath.
He doesn’t miss his chance, he shoves the necklace in my mouth before roughly wrenching me over onto my stomach.
The movement sends a bolt of pain through the injured wrist. My weight collapses on top of it.
His hand stays covering my mouth in a seal that keeps my screams, and his ‘gift’ trapped inside of me.
Tears continue to stream down my face as the man I chose to spend my life with shoves my dress up over my back and prepares to erase the last of me.
“If you can’t be bothered to suck me properly, I’ll have to find another hole, that isn’t all used up”
I shake my head and try to form words to plead around the intrusion in my mouth.
He doesn’t take his time to warm up or ease me into it, he shoves his cock into my asshole as roughly as he possibly can. I scream into his hand.
He only ever takes my ass when he’s mad at me, It’s never sweet or tender. Anal sex only ever comes with pain and rage. Every movement of his hips tears me from the inside. I lay flat on the hard floor beneath his weight, my left arm not strong enough to hold me up. His body pushes me further into the cold tiles with every thrust. I lose my breath, my blood and my will to fight.
“Look what you’re making me do” He grunts on top of me.
“If you just kept yourself out of trouble, I wouldn't have to do this”
He continues to pound into me as I cry silently on the floor.
In the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind, I almost wish that I did have another lover. Someone I could run to, to heal me, and tell me everything would be ok. I dismiss the thought quickly. A cold shiver of fear that he might be able to hear the heresy of my thoughts.
“You should be thanking me.” He pants above me
“You’re lucky that I still touch you after everything that you do to me Harper… after the way you humiliate me”
His hips pick up speed as he races towards the desperate, selfish peak that he's climbing. My jaw is clenched so hard around the pendant, I’m worried my teeth will shatter.
“Thank me Harper” He demands
I couldn’t thank him even if I wanted to, with his hand clamped around my mouth my nose is the only thing keeping me breathing.
“Say thank you Daddy, Thank you for fucking my ass”
His hand releases my mouth, only to slap my cheek. Hard
I spit out the necklace, it’s covered in blood, it’s only when I see it that I realise it’s cut up my tongue and the inside of my cheeks while my face has been pressed against the floor.
“Thank you daddy” I wheeze through the pain.
He smacks me again.
“Thanks for what?”
“Thank you daddy, for fucking my asshole”
“Oh fuuuuuu-” he groans and falls against my back, biting my shoulder as he shoots his release inside of me.
He rests there for a minute, catching his breath while I stare blankly at the blood drip-drip-drip from the kitchen island into a pool on the floor in front of me.
My body, somehow numb and aching at the same time.
He stands and begins tucking himself back into his trousers.
“Clean this mess up Harper”
The command is flat, no rage. It's over.
Once he's put himself back together, he squats down in front of me, grabbing my chin in one hand and forcing my eyes away from the wreckage to look at him.
“If I EVER find out that you’ve been with another man, I will kill you. Both.”
I believe him.
He stares at me for a second longer before he stands and walks away. I listen to his steady footsteps make their way up the stairs. Leaving me cold, bruised and bleeding on our kitchen floor.
Again.
