I could feel it—the hunger in his touch, the power in the way he held me.I was trapped in his world, drowning in the suffocating hold he had on me.And despite all my fears, despite everything that told me to fight, a sick part of me craved it, needed it."Yes," I whispered, the word barely escaping my lips, barely enough to acknowledge what had already become my truth. "I’m yours."He smirked, a satisfied, predatory grin that made my insides twist with a mix of dread and twisted longing."Good girl," he whispered, his lips against mine again, this time deeper, more urgent.He devoured me, as though he was trying to consume the last remnants of who I used to be, and I let him.I let him tear away the pieces of myself that had once been whole.I felt the heat of his body pressing against mine, the firm strength of his arms pulling me closer, making me feel small, insignificant.And I hated it, I loved it—this vicious cycle of destruction he had me locked in.His lips moved to my neck,
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