𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐦

SEVEN

"Come to me slowly."

7

Resiliance requires mental toughness, the ability to laugh through all life's troubles, I think it's a beautiful thing to have. I can't say my life has been fulfilled in terms of thrilling experiences. My ex taught me to be unapologetic. He was out of my league and I liked it. Archie was a narcissist asshole with great qualities, but a shit boyfriend.

He was a tough pill I had to swallow. I defied my parents behind him, lost my virginity to him and it was all for nothing. I still feel the heartbreak. He disappeared without a word, without a trace. Just like that—gone.

There was no trace of Archie Valdwin.

There had been so many late nights, so many moments when I'd gone head over heels, doing everything I could to keep him out of trouble, to protect him from himself. I'd been there through the chaos, the endless drama, the reckless decisions, believing that if I just loved him enough, if I was there enough, maybe—just maybe—I could be the one to change him.

It felt like I was grieving him, I was so alone with my thoughts for very long time, maybe I was to blame. I was so attached I almost forgot why I was in college. I wasn't the one who could save him

•••

I struggled to grip the sheets underneath me, Reign thrusts were so deep I was sweating. The hold he has on hips were going bruise but the pleasure made up for it.

We've been at this for about a hour, without any breaks, I have reason to believe this was another punishment.

I'm trying to keep my moans to a minimum not giving him satisfaction, but he is really stretching me out without giving me time to adjust to his inches.

"R-reign, ss-slow please," our breathy moans bounce off each other. I was in for trouble when he slowly pulled all the way out just to slam back into me again. My eyes watered, my  nipples got harder pressing against the bed sheets. Our juices ran down my leg. It was no speaking just my soft moans and his heavy groaning.

"Give me your hands." He took both my hands holding them in his one placed on my lower back, he plunged deeper into me. My bruised behind smacking against his pelvis irritated my pain.

Regin found a rhythm he liked before pulling out real slow. I heard a slight pop sound, as he sucked on his index finger inserting it in my aroused core. It was no denying that I am a leaking mess.

"You feel that?" In and out his finger went before adding another one.

"Y-yes I-." I softly muttered.

"Do you know what you do to me princess?" His accent almost sent me. "Look at this pretty pussy hm, wet for me?" He slapped my already bruised ass, I flinched jumping forward.

"Y-yes Reign for you." I softly whispered back knowing how much he prefers verbal response. He didn't waste anytime flipping me onto my back. Holding himself up on both hands above me, my body instantly succumb when our lips touched.

It's fascinating when you think that such a man who's tattooed himself neck down, and lived by a gun can be so enticing in a forbidden way. I began to crave it, but other harsh factors are currently haunting me.

Groaning into the kiss, he's sucked on my bottom lip before letting go. His signature glare landed me stuck I couldn't look away, it was intimidating. My anxiety fought and my insecurity it was displayed all over me.

"Don't force my hand Ami, I don't want to have to take your life." He whispered looking down at my lips. I kept my eyes on the ceiling as a tear roll down my cheek.

He moved his body down mine before diving in to suck on the most precious part of me. I shut my eyes drifting into ecstasy all while tears fell out one eye.

•••

My eyes fluttered open it was the next morning, here I am laying alone in a sinners bed with only panties on. My mind went back to the event that's took place last night, a little grin grew on my face. I'm being to think we both need psychological help.

The bathroom door opened, my face instantly fell. Reign stepped out fully clothed in his usual white dress shirt with black slacks. He was fixing his cuff links before looking up at me, a small smile graced his lips.

"Morning princess, there's a surprise for you downstairs I have to go. Behave." Just like that his demeanour changed with that one word. He gave me a kiss on the forehead leaving.

I closed my eyes reminding my self there is some hope. I used it to get up and go in the shower. I stood under the shower head letting the water run attempting to clear my mind.

My life took a sudden turn for the worst, I keep sinking truly afraid of this man. Small parts of me wanting to fall to his feet wanting to please him would soon kill me in the end.

I've obviously been kidnapped and I'm stuck in this house with a sociopath. The only outcome will be broken with severe trauma, I'll be left empty and there's no way around that.

•••

I was heading close to the end of the stair case, there was female laughter heard from the other room. I managed to make out little giggle knowing who it may be.

I made my presence known clasping my hands together stunned. The girls from the city were in this house with Amaya. Stassie noticed me first and sprinted over before desperately falling into each other's arms.

"I thought I'd never see you again." She whispered gripping onto me tighter. Her soft fingers wiped my tears, the look in her eye held so much questions.

She lightly kissed my cheek whispering 'Are you okay?'

I gave her my safe answer before deciding to change the subject knowing she will question me to death.

"Where's Chalynn?" I glanced at the two girls on the couch.

"After what happened." Her voice broke, her eyes began to fill. "She decided to leave New York, I'm not sure where to since her and family are no longer speaking. Who knows?" I noticed her struggles to keep from crying.

"I didn't know you knew Irina." Amaya asked potentially tried to shift the dark energy.

"W-well yea, her and Stassie's are friends."

It fell quiet after that.

"How do you guys know each other?" Stassie asked Irina giving her a playful grin.

It fell quiet again, the silence was enough to let things fall into place. The Russian accent, Amaya mentioning four children one girl that lives in New York, quiet but noticeably observant.

•••