LOGINI woke up to the sharp and excruciating pulse coursing through my body.It would sound exaggerated but every inch of me was screaming in protest and my muscles were trembling beneath my skin as I tried to shift on the bed. My breasts ached at the foreign sensation of metal o my skin. Reminding me how mercilessly he had taken what he wanted.There was no part of me left untouched by his brutality. My throat felt raw, my skin marred, bruises blooming in violent shades of purple and blue. All that belonged to him.I winced as I sat up. My legs refused to cooperate. Even breathing hurt, he was like a beast that had ravaged me last night. To my relief, the room was empty and the bed sheets were twisted and soaked in his scent.Tears welled up, unbidden, and rolled down my cheeks in silent despair. How cruel could he be?It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough for him.My chest tightened and a sob threatened to escape, but I swallowed it down. He couldn’t hear me now. I wouldn’t give him
I always hated mornings.Even when I was a four-year-old—naive and curious little boy.Waking up to the same damn world that never understood shit about me. The sunlight? It felt like a fucking burning light, burning through my skin, exposing every twisted thought I tried to keep hidden. Other kids—those little morons—laughing and running around like life was a goddamn fairy tale.I watched them from the shadows, always disgusted and bothered by something I couldn’t understand.I wasn’t like them. Never was. Never would be.They were the worst. That’s when I had to play nice. Smile, nod, pretend to give a shit about their useless lives. It made me sick. Every fake grin felt like swallowing small shards of glass.Even my teacher had to call my parents to the school just because I smashed open a fool’s head cause he made fun of my sister’s ponytails.I mean she did looked a bit funny with those green clips but the point was, no one mess with Romanovskis.The point was—I hated mornings.
My breasts throbbed and so did my insides as he rammed deeper an deeper regardless of how many times he had came inside me. I had lost count.Punishing me for something he himself couldn’t understand.I had begged. Pleaded. But it didn’t matter. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer with every thrust, until I thought I might break.It was relentless. Bruising. He had no mercy, no restraint. He wanted to take. And I let him. Cause that’s all a vulnerable woman like me could do.The bed creaked beneath us, but it wasn’t enough. His rage spilled out. We crashed onto the floor, then the couch, until I was pressed against the cold glass of the window. My skin seared from the icy touch of the pane. Yet he only pressed harder.Pain is the price of betrayal, they say.And I was paying in full.There was no escape. His punishment was for both of us. Every thrust, every bruise—his wrath, his desire.The harder he went, the more his control slipped. I could feel it, sense it in the air.
The belt came down again.And I cried out. Again. I didn’t know how long or how many strikes it had been.Only thing I could focus on was his belt and my screams.Tears spilled from my eyes as my body convulsed under the force of the blow. Despite the desperate will to stay strong, I felt the words slipping out. A plea. Weak. I hated myself for it, but it was as though he was forcing it out of me. He liked this—loved the sound of my voice breaking, of my heart crumbling under his hands.My vision blurred, darkness pressing in at the edges, and I silently prayed for unconsciousness. But it never came. Instead, I was flipped onto my back, my body trembling against the cold sheets. He hovered over me, his hands braced on either side of my head, his pale blue eyes piercing into mine. One hand moved to my jaw, his fingers gripping hard.“Will you disobey me again?” Low and deep voice blocked my senses.Tears spilled down my temples, hot against my skin. My chest heaved with ragged breaths.
I should’ve known better.I should’ve seen it coming, the storm behind his eyes. The violent tempest that lurked behind the soft-spoken threats, the poisonous words that slipped from his mouth like honey laced with venom. But I didn’t. I was too blinded by the fleeting hope that, maybe, just maybe, there was a shred of humanity left in him.Now I was trapped in his suffocating grip and the brutal reality was sinking in. There was no humanity. Not in him. Not in the man who stood before me now, he was a monster dressed in the skin of someone I once thought I could understand.Hell.Yes. He was hell.th his touch. He wasn’t holding me anymore—he was claiming me, as if every bruise and mark was a reminder of his twisted ownership.I wanted to scream, to lash out, but I couldn’t. The force of his hand on my throat was too much, the pressure unbearable. My vision was going dark around the edges, and I could feel my strength slipping away.Just as I thought I might pass out, he released me,
“Where were you, little bird?”Clouds rumbled in the skies, dark and heavy. A loud gust of wind whooshed through the open window, and I staggered back. I didn’t know if it was the force of the wind or the weight of his gaze that knocked the breath out of me.I tried to move. Run, my mind screamed, but my legs refused to obey. Every muscle locked in place, as if bound by invisible chains. His eyes—those pale blue, soulless eyes—pinned me to the spot. He wasn’t just dangerous; he was death wrapped in human skin.My heart hammered in my chest. The walls seemed to close in, the air thick with his presence. His hair was tousled, his clothes wrinkled and damp from the storm outside. He didn’t wear a coat or jacket, despite the biting cold. He didn’t even seem to care.I swallowed hard, trying to find words, but my mouth was dry. Say something. “I-I was… I was just… outside.”His expression darkened, and my stomach twisted into knots.“With whose permission?”I opened my mouth to speak again
A groan left my mouth and pain wrapped around me like an old, familiar shroud, something that felt like my body had been stung by thousands of needles. I didn’t need to see the bruises blooming across my skin to know they were there, didn’t need to touch the tender, aching spots to feel the damage
I struggled against his grip, but he was too strong manhandling me with ease as he shoved me down, bending me over the edge of the bed. Panic surged through me, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.One hand forced open my legs as he pressed against me. “Do you have any idea how l
He pulled away, and I managed to suck in a shaky breath, relief washing over me for a fleeting, fragile second as he hummed to himself. The sound made my blood run cold, and casually strolled toward the table where a bouquet of flowers and several bottles of alcohol were place I failed to notice.F
I was squirming, fidgeting, doing everything in my power not to open the door and jump out of the car. The urge to flee was overwhelming like a primal instinct screaming at me to escape while I still could. But I couldn’t.Kyle was driving and I sneaked a glance at his knuckles, white on the steeri







