All Chapters of Once Bitten, Twice Broken, Forever Loved : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Ethan “Yeah, fuck me. Just like that.” A long moan breaks her cooing. “Yes, yes, right there. Fuck me with that big cock. I'm your fucking slut. Yeah,” she screams, thrusting back to rival my thrust, her meaty ass flapping at the collision of our fucking skins.They always scream, in pain at first, then in a staccato of lewd cries and utterances. And they don't stop, which I have to put up with sometimes. Like now.“Fuck,” I cuss beneath my breath with my head tipping back and my eyes drift shut.The past few days have been a hassle, starting from the wedding preparation to the wedding night. But nothing compares to the achievement of now finally having the woman I crave to have my vengeance on.All that joy, rush of adrenaline, dopamine, serotonin and endorphins that comes with remembering my win. I can't help a smile. She can be stubborn now, which is cute, but that surely won't last. After I'm done with her, she'd be a puppet that panics and hides at the mention of my name, and act

EthanBret pulls into the driveway of my mom's house and kills the engine. We step out and head for the backyard. She probably heard the news and had sought my presence for a brief discussion. “Uncle Ethan!” A swarm of pests of different sizes and colors comes running toward me, and it feels like a scuttle of centipedes crawling toward me. My stomach churns, and gooseflesh spreads across my skin as revulsion courses through me. I frown, anger roaring within me. Kids! I fucking hate kids! They're useless, selfish, stupid, stubborn, just to mention a few.“Get the fuck away from me, you little things,” I yell before they can even think of coming any further closer. “Someone get these pests out of my sight before I fall sick.”They do what they do best, their only defense, cry. Fuck, I hate their cry just as much.“Ethan, that was harsh. Get used to them already,” Mom tries to sound convincing as she leaves the table and steps closer to hold me by my arm. “Delia, please help me with the

VioletArm in arm, Ethan and I step into the exhibition hall. Ethan’s aunt’s art show is having its anniversary tonight.A glimmer of sadness drains the smile from my face. I don’t care about wealth or luxury. Peter’s arm around mine instead of Ethan’s is all the luxury I need. What happened between Peter and me was my fault. I chose to work in Aion Soft, knowing it was Ethan’s establishment.The grand, breathtaking, and sophisticated gallery is alive with the soft hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, occasional bursts of laughter, and the soft, graceful pitter-patter of feet. There’s excitement in the atmosphere as most visitors move around sipping wine while they admire the jaw-dropping artwork on display, some sharing their passion for creativity.There are so many artworks on display. Visual arts, applied arts, digital arts gathered from many sources, mixed media, just to name a few.This sophisticated space is where the line between artists, viewers, and artwork blurs. I

VioletAn eerie silence, thick as fog, hangs over us. I worry with my sweaty hands, anxious.This whole new dark side of him unfurls by the minute, and the more he unveils his dark side, the more I fearfully doubt that I can survive this marriage.Kurt, just as impatient as his boss, pulls up at the concrete parking lot. What I hear the following moment is a shriek from me as Ethan fists my hair and yanks me to his side of the car.He pushes open the car door and pulls me roughly out of the car, dragging me into the house by my hair. My crying becomes endless as I pull on his strong fist to peel his hand off my hair, my ankles occasionally twisting and I cry out loudly each time.“Stop. It hurts. Let go. Let go!” I scream.He doesn't listen, doesn't care. He just wants to unleash his long-standing fury. The force and his quick steps have my stilettos pulling off my legs. I'm left in my pantyhose.The housekeepers and maids in the living room are going about their activities, complete

VioletPaisley helps me to the cage they call a bedroom seeing as I can barely stand on my feet, let alone walk. She lays me down on the bed slowly and painstakingly. I whimper, my breath shallow as my butt touches the mattress as I huff for relief.Tears roll down my face as the memory of a few minutes ago replays in my head, his promise even more so. Will it make any difference if I told him I have a trauma? I'm afraid it won't. What will I do when he comes back to shove a bottle inside me and do wicked things to my body?“It’s seven in the morning and yet there you lay,” Vanessa's voice drills into my reverie, drawing our attention toward the doorway. “Ethan sent the housekeepers home. Be downstairs in five minutes. The chores won't do themselves.” She turns and walks off.My heart skips in fear. Ethan meant what he said earlier. I've always lived in a small apartment. My family house was small, and still, we shared the chores among ourselves. I may pass out after cleaning only th