Chapter Seven - Rosalie

He stands over me. Towers over me.

I want to reach up so desperately and twist my fingers through his hair but fear, or nervousness, or something I can’t define, stops me.

I can hear his breath, I can feel it as it hits my skin. It’s hot and it sends goosebumps through me.

He leans down, scooping me up and I practically melt into his hold.

“Little dove,”

Even that pet name sounds more enticing, more sensuous.

And the way he kisses me, the way his tongue is delving into my mouth, it drives me wild.

I grind against him. I don’t even realise I’m doing it but my hips are rocking back and forth and I can feel beneath the fabric of his pants, that he’s hard.

All that pent up longing erupts inside me, all that desperate need for pleasure explodes.

He isn’t even touching me, he hasn’t done anything but hold my body against his and yet it feels enough.

I moan. I gasp. I writhe against him, feeling as my very blood begs for more, as it pleads for it.

“Rosalie…” the way he says my name, the way he speaks every syllable, he makes me sound like I’m some enchantress, some deity, and not some abused waste of space.

“Don’t stop, please…” my words turn to another desperate moan as his hand dips beneath the waistband of my leggings, and I lose all coherent thoughts.

He kisses me again, kisses me harder as he starts touching me.

Oh god. Oh god.

I’ve never been touched like this. Never felt anything like this.

I don’t want this to stop. I don’t want this to ever end.

I throw my head back, I arch my back and I swear I see stars as something inside me literally explodes.

I wake up, confused and ashamed. I’ve never had dreams like that. I’ve never felt like that for a man.

After everything that Silas had done to me over the two years I was captive, I hate men, I fear them. At no point do I desire them, at no point do I want to be close to a man, intimate with one.

When Silas took me, he’d mistakenly believed I was a virgin. I guess that was part of the appeal. Only I wasn’t. I’d slept with a guy more as a rebellion against my strict parents. I knew we weren’t going to last. I knew it was a one-time thing but at the time it’d seemed like a good idea.

I guess in some ways I was lucky, that at least my first time had been consensual even if every other time since hasn’t been.

I want to get these clothes off me. I want to get whatever this smell is away from me. It feels like some trick, some strange game these Wolves are playing and it makes me more fearful of what they plan for me. Only I have nothing else to wear, nothing else to cover myself with.

I roll the sleeves up, trying to let my skin breathe, as if it could somehow keep the flashbacks away. But every time I blink, I see it; moments, Cain touching me, his lips against mine, the feel of his skin, the way his eyes watch me. I’m blushing, my body is heating up at the just thought of it. My heart is thumping in my chest and it’s not just from fear, it’s from lust, from want.

I don’t even know who I am right now. Who I’ve become. Perhaps this confinement has made me mad. Perhaps I’ve lost all sense entirely. I want to scream, to claw at the walls, to beg them just to end my torment and kill me already but I don’t make a sound. I sit here, confused, and scared, and alone. Hiding in the darkness hoping I might disappear into it entirely.