28. Helpless

Releasing my arms, he grasped a handful of my hair in his fist, winding the other arm savagely around my waist, trapping me effortlessly in a brutal embrace that had nothing to do with love. As I gasped in pain, he brought his head down, kissing me with ferocity and grinding his mouth on mine. There was no love, no gentleness. Only he needs to brand me as his.

When he raised his head, I could taste blood. He flung me away, his face mirroring self-disgust.

Breathing hard, wide-eyed with shock and a host of conflicting emotions, I watched him, touching my bruised mouth, aware that I would have darkening bruises on my arms where he had sunk his hard fingers into my arms in such a brutish way.

He turned, his eyes glinting almost evilly in the feeble lighting. His eyes dropped to my heavy breasts, the nipples clearly outlined through the coarse cloth of my gown, because he still had the power to arouse me, even with his cruelty. With a low growl, he came closer again, roughly fondling my f