PUCK ME BREATHLESS

VERA'S P.O.V

Hunter's palm struck my cheek, forcing my head to snap to the side. For a split second, there was nothing, just a ringing white noise flooding my ears—then the sting came hot.

"What do you want from me?" My boyfriend questioned.

"Hunter," I whispered, my voice inaudible.

"I'm here now Vera, what do you want from me?" He repeated.

My mind scrambled and my thoughts tripped over each other. What answer did I have to that?

I had many answers because I wanted many things from Hunter.

I want a man who loves me. I want this to stop. I want you to treat me right, and if you don't, I want out.

But I knew better than to say any of that.

"Nothing," I cried instead, too afraid to confront him.

The look in his dark brown eyes changed, not anger exactly, but something much worse.

Hunter lunged towards me; his fingers closed around my throat before I could even gasp.

He drove me into the wall, claiming every inch of space around me—the impact rattling through my bones.

He leaned in, his eyes met mine, and they showed no mercy.

This was the first version of Hunter, the drunk one. The one that scared me and the one I had to deal with now, because if I didn't, there would be consequences...consequences I could not physically handle.

Air slipped away from me completely, and my face flooded with heat until I knew it must be crimson. My eyes filled and then overflowed as fresh tears slid shamelessly down my cheeks.

Then everything started to fade.

My mouth opened on instinct as I searched for a word—a plea, anything to voice out, but nothing came. Just a raspy gasp caught in my throat.

I was too breathless to speak, too overwhelmed to move.

"Just a little more," Hunter growled lowly.

My eyes fluttered, fighting to close— but I didn't let them.

Hunter loomed over me, reminding me how small I could be, how little he could always make me feel.

One hand remained on my throat, while the other moved to unbuckle his belt, throwing it behind him.

He revealed his manhood, hard, thick and throbbing. I watched through half-lidded eyes as he traced it firmly with his free hand, his motion controlled. Every line and vein was amplified in my vision, impossible for me to ignore.

His hand ran over it as he continued to pleasure himself, stroking and twisting aggressively to his liking. Beating it harder while his fury eyes remain fixed on me.

His fingers dug further into my windpipe and my eyes pleaded, but his grip only tightened more.

A heavy weakness spread through me, and everything felt far away. Hunter, the room, even my own body—I was barely hanging on.

If I gave up now, only God knew what would happen. I wondered if Hunter would stop if he saw I was passed out, if he saw his Baby girl was really, truly hurt.

I knew one thing, I knew this was the last night Hunter would ever treat me this way— I couldn't give up now.

If I want to live tomorrow, I cannot die today. I have to endure, I just have to...

But my eyes gave up already, rolling to the back of my head.

Fuck no. It's just my eyes. My body is still present. It's not over yet, it's not...

Luck was on my side, because that involuntary act seemed to do it for Hunter. Watching my eyes roll back threw his body into an immediate fit. It triggered him and he reached climax immediately.

A jagged groan ripped from his throat, and his head snapped backwards, his entire body tensing violently.

Streams of thick fluid spurted from the tip of his manhood, dripping onto my thick thighs, left bare.

His hand shook against my neck, as it did, his grip loosened, and air gradually returned to my system. I drew it in, desperate for it.

I forced my eyes open, then slid down the wall as Hunter lost his grip. My limbs were unable to support me, leaving me drowning in the pool of my unconsciousness.

The air I longed for moments ago slowly began to suffocate me and every nerve in my body screamed with the intensity of it.

Hunter moaned. "Fuck."

He bit down hard on his lip and staggered forward. His hands reached out to grip the wall, holding on for a moment before staggering towards the bed, falling freely onto it.

I remained in the corner of the room, exactly where he left me, afraid that even the slightest shift would draw his attention back to me.

My face streamed with tears, and my hands clasped gingerly around my neck. I whimpered, crying with each touch, every brush of my fingers sent a fresh wave of panic through my body.

It still hurts, I can still feel your hands.

"Vera," he called my name, his voice softening suddenly, just like before.

This was the second version of Hunter. The one that I'd wake up to the next day. The one that would swear he didn't mean it, or claimed to have forgotten, making everything worse.

"I need you to be quiet."

But I couldn't; his words didn't soothe me. I couldn't calm myself, not after everything... I just couldn't.

My chest heaved as he spoke.

"You know what happens when you don't listen. You know what happens when you cry."

I knew, and yet I still didn't stop.

"You're asking for something you won't like."

His harsh words were followed by a low, humourless laugh rumbling from the depths of his throat.

I heard the bed creak as he got up, I heard him walk towards me, his footsteps light and quick.

"Get up."

I should have listened, I should have stopped crying and done what he said.

I feared for my life once more.