Rage & Ruin | 18+

4|You do crave me (18+)

Alaric's grip on her wrist grew even tighter, his breath coming in hot, ragged pants against her skin. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, and she knew that this was only the beginning. His tongue flicked out, tracing the line of the bite, and she felt a warm trickle of blood slide down her neck. The room spun around her, and she had to fight the urge to retch.

He slowly started undressing her, his hands moving with a cruel efficiency that spoke of much practice. She stood there frozen, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. She had to stay strong, had to find a way to survive. Each layer of clothing that fell away felt like a piece of her dignity being stripped from her, leaving her bare and vulnerable before him.

Alaric's eyes roamed over her body, a sneer curling his lips as he took in her trembling form. He reveled in her fear, in the power he held over her. Daphne forced herself to stand tall, to not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cower. She watched in the mirror as he slid the dress off her shoulders, the fabric pooling around her feet.

Her corset was next, the laces coming undone with a series of sharp tugs. She felt the constriction ease, but the relief was short-lived as his hands began to explore her exposed skin. He touched her like she was a piece of property, something to be used and discarded. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the malicious intent, and she knew she was in for a long, torturous night.

Alaric's hand moved to cup her breast, his thumb circling her nipple in a way that was both painful and sickeningly intimate. Daphne's body recoiled, but she remained rigid, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble. His eyes never left hers in the mirror, his smirk growing as he watched her fight to maintain her composure.

He made her stand before the mirror, his large form looming behind her. She could feel the heat of his body against her back, his hands roaming over her front, the contrast making her skin crawl. His eyes raked over her nakedness, a possessive hunger in his gaze that made her stomach churn. "You are mine now," he murmured, his breath hot against her neck.

Alaric's hands moved to her breasts, cupping them gently at first, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. Daphne felt a betrayal of her own body as they hardened under his touch, her breath hitching in spite of herself. His fingers grew more insistent, kneading and pinching until she couldn't help but arch her back, a low moan escaping her lips. She watched in horror as his smile grew, feeding off her involuntary reactions.

He leaned in closer, his mouth now against her ear. "Do you feel that?" he whispered, his voice a dark caress. "That's your body's way of telling you that it wants me." His hand slid down her stomach, his fingertips lightly grazing her most sensitive area. She tried to clench her legs together, but he was too quick, his touch sending waves of pleasure and pain through her body.

Daphne's eyes were wide with shock, her breath coming in ragged gasps. His fingers circled her clit, moving in an agonizingly slow rhythm that had her hips jerking forward of their own accord. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing her moan, but she couldn't help it. Each stroke was like a hot knife, cutting through her resolve and leaving her trembling.

Her legs felt like they were made of jelly, threatening to give way beneath her. Alaric chuckled darkly, his breath tickling her ear. "See?" he murmured. "Your body knows who you belong to."

Daphne's eyes remained glued to the mirror, watching in horror as he continued to manipulate her, her body responding despite her mind's protest. His hand moved faster, his thumb pressing down firmly on her clit while his fingers slid inside her, filling her up. The pleasure was intense, overwhelming, and she hated herself for feeling it.

With each thrust of his fingers, she could see the desire on his face, the triumph in his eyes as he watched her body betray her. She was a panting, moaning mess, unable to stop the noises that escaped her lips, no matter how much she wanted to. Alaric's eyes never left hers in the reflection, his smirk growing with every gasp and whimper she couldn't hold back.

Her body trembled under his touch, her legs threatening to give out as he continued to manipulate her. His other hand slid up her throat, his thumb resting gently on her pulse point, a constant reminder of his power over her. Daphne's eyes darted between his face and their reflection, desperately seeking some escape from the horror of the situation.

He watched her closely, his own eyes dark with lust as he worked her body. Each stroke of his fingers brought her closer to the edge, and she could feel the wetness pooling between her thighs. She wanted to scream, to tell him to stop, but she knew it would only fuel his twisted satisfaction. Instead, she gritted her teeth, trying to focus on anything but the sickening pleasure he was wringing from her.

Her breath grew ragged, her chest heaving with each pant. She could see the sweat glistening on her skin in the flickering candlelight, her body a canvas of his depravity. His hand moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against her clit, and she felt the beginnings of an orgasm building inside her. Daphne's eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping down her cheeks. She didn't want this, didn't want to feel any pleasure from his touch, but her body had a mind of its own.

With a final, brutal thrust, Alaric sent her over the edge. Daphne's eyes snapped open, her body arching as the orgasm ripped through her. She stared into the mirror, her vision blurred by tears, as he continued to move his hand, watching her every reaction with a sadistic glee. The pleasure washed over her, unwanted and overwhelming, leaving her feeling dirty and used.

As the last tremors subsided, Alaric stepped back, his hand leaving her body with a wet sound that made her cringe. He took a moment to admire his handiwork, his eyes lingering on the marks his teeth had left on her neck, the way her body was still flushed from his touch. "See?" he said, his voice smug. "You do crave me."

Daphne didn't bother to look at him, her eyes locked on the mirror. She couldn't bear to see the smug satisfaction on his face, so instead, she focused on the girl in the reflection, the girl who looked so lost and afraid. She hated that girl, hated what she had become. "You're wrong," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "I despise you."