ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʀʙɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇs

"𝑾𝒊𝒑𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕. 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑺ì?"
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The pounding in my chest echoed the frantic thump of my heart. My breath hitched as a choked sob escaped my lips, followed by another, and another. My body trembled, a wave of fear washing over me.

'I hate you!' I screamed, the sound raw and desperate, barely audible over the deafening roar of my own terror.

'I fucking hate you!' I repeated, the words a desperate plea for sanity, for a semblance of control.

A smirk, cruel and predatory, spread across his face. 'Really, I too hate you, sweetheart.' he murmured, taking a step towards me, the sound of his boots on the carpet sending shivers down my spine.

'You can't do this, you can't force me!' I choked out, backing away, as I pressed myself against the wall.

'Yes, I can. And I will,' he said, his voice a low growl, his presence a suffocating cage. He was close, his shadow looming over me, the scent of his cologne, usually a comforting aroma, now a noxious cloud of dread.

My vision started blurring, tears welling up in my eyes, blurring the edges of the world around me. I fought against the overwhelming urge to just let go, to succumb to the overwhelming wave of despair crashing over me.

'You are mine to play and mine to ruin!' His words pierced through the haze of fear, his hot breath fanning against my neck, the sensation sending a jolt of terror through me, making my thighs clench involuntarily.

He reveled in my fear, my helplessness. It was like I was a puppet, dancing to his cruel tune, every move dictated by his monstrous will. I hated him, I hated what he was doing to me, I hated myself for allowing it.
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