Marked

~Cali~

I reached the cabin where Evan and I are supposed to meet at around three in the morning, worn out as the tires of the cab. The bumps we rode over, the curves we took are means to a meaningful destination.

My coat draped languidly on the couch, each shoe I had on earlier now nowhere in sight. The thousand-dollar dress I flaunted on the fundraiser ripped in two, and so were my undergarments.

The kitchen worktop is cold against my front, our mingled sweat dampening the chilly surface. My hand grasping the edge of the counter, holding on for each pound he made in me, is pushing my body to slide further.

He’s mad. Each intrusion of his member is a punishment for the choice I made.

Evan had never been this rough with