Demon's Physco obsession

Shattered in Silence

The tyres screeched against the paved driveway as the black limo stopped before the sprawling, white villa. Before the engine even coughed its last breath, Adhiraaj flung open his door and rushed. He yanked the passenger door open, the force making Ankita gasp. He didn't offer a hand to help her out; instead, his grip clamped around her wrist, fingers digging into her delicate skin, and he hauled her out onto the gravel.

Ankita stumbled, her wedges catching on the uneven surface. Before she could regain her balance, Adhiraaj had scooped her up in his arms, his movements bordering on violent. The world spun as she was lifted and carried, the opulent façade of the villa blurring past. Fear pulsed in her veins, a frantic drumbeat against her ribs. The raw energy radiating off Adhiraaj, the storm brewing in his dark eyes, promised anything but peace.

He didn't pause in the grand foyer or the elegantly furnished living room. He took the stairs two at a time, his breath ragged, a stark contrast to the strained silence emanating from Ankita. Their bedroom door swung inwards with a thud as he shouldered it open, and he deposited her on the plush king-sized bed with a lack of ceremony that sent her bouncing slightly against the soft mattress.

She barely registered the luxury of the room, the tasteful décor, the panoramic view. Her entire world had condensed to the man looming over her, his face a mask of barely controlled fury. He didn't speak, didn't waste time on words. His hands, strong and possessive, went to the delicate silk of her dress, the expensive fabric. With a brutal rip, the delicate material tore, the sound echoing sharply in the otherwise silent room. He didn't stop there. The dress was ripped further.

Ankita gasped, instinct taking over. Her hands flew to cover her suddenly exposed chest, shame and terror flooding her. But her hands never reached their destination. Adhiraaj's grip was like iron, seizing her wrists in mid-air, pinning them above her head on the soft pillows. He leaned over her, his face inches from hers, his breath hot and ragged against her skin. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, were now cold, hard chips of obsidian, sending a silent, chilling warning. Ankita swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, her fear coalescing into a heavy, suffocating ball in her stomach.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached for his shirt, his movements jerky, fueled by an unseen rage. Buttons popped and scattered across the room like tiny projectiles, the sound sharp and brittle. Then, his mouth descended on hers, a harsh, bruising assault. Ankita whimpered against his lips, the force of the kiss stealing her breath. Panic flared. She thrashed her hands, trying to push him away, to create even a sliver of space, but his body was a wall, heavy and unyielding. He held her captive, his mouth grinding against hers, his dominance absolute.

Finally, he released her hands, still trapped above her head by his weight, and pulled back just enough for her to gasp for air. Desperate, choked, she lashed out, her fist connecting with his chest, a small, futile attempt to reclaim some control, some space.

The sound of her whimper seemed to cut through the haze of whatever rage had consumed him. Adhiraaj froze, his body going rigid. He blinked, his eyes losing some of their harshness, confusion flickering within their depths. He pulled back completely, releasing her hands.

"Dove," he breathed, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. He stared at her, his gaze softening, and then something shifted in his expression – remorse, regret? He reached for her, this time his touch gentle as he pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. "Shh, shh," he murmured, his voice thick with self-reproach. "I'm sorry. God, Ankita, I'm so sorry. I lost control."

He rained soft kisses over her face, his touch now feather-light, a stark contrast to the earlier brutality. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, and the tip of her nose, then gently nuzzled her neck. This time, when he kissed her lips, it was soft, and tentative, a stark departure from the forceful assault. He broke the kiss, looking at her searchingly, his eyes still clouded but now filled with a different emotion – vulnerability, almost pleading.