My back hurt from getting slammed into the wall, but it was nothing compared to how painfully Christopher’s hands were gripping my shoulders. This side of him was scaring me and causing me to have flashbacks of the past.
“What’s going on, Christopher?” I inquired in a small voice, shrinking away from him. “If you’re mad, could you please tell me what I did wrong? I’ll change, I promise — Mmph…”
Two hands held my face as he suddenly kissed me, every motion seemingly brimming with frustration. He bit on my lips harshly and manhandled me without much care. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see bruises starting to form on my shoulders where he was grabbing me.
“Christopher, please don’t…” I begged, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. The next thing I knew, I was hoisted into midair, and he’d wrapped my legs around his waist.
I opened my mouth to speak, but a yelp came out instead upon feeling a sharp, burning pain in my lower abdomen. Tears blurred my vision, and my entire body was shaking. Yet, Christopher showed no signs of stopping.
My pain tolerance was usually high due to having gone through lots of physical harm in the past — my body had learned to grow numb to pain. However, this was different; this time, I was crying because Christopher was the one hurting me.
He was usually so gentle and tender with me during sex. He would never abruptly enter me like that. However, none of that gentleness or tenderness was currently present.
I turned away from him, refusing to look him in the eye as I silently cried. The dark room was filled with only the sounds of Christopher’s feral grunts and the rhythmic thumping of my back against the wooden door.
Suddenly, fingers brushed at my wet cheeks, and I felt his movements stutter. He leaned down to kiss my tears away, but his kisses were fierce and provided no comfort at all, only serving to draw more tears out of me.
By the time he lowered me down to lie on my stomach on the couch, I’d stopped crying, letting him kiss my neck and my back before he resumed thrusting.
I couldn’t derive any sort of pleasure from this kind of rough sex without communication between us. Even if Christopher later reverted back to his normal, gentle behavior, the damage had already been done.
His grip on my hips tightened, and he forcibly turned my head, pressing his lips to mine and slipping his tongue into my mouth. I wasn’t sure how to react to this, but I froze up when I saw the expression on his face.
It was one of disappointment and loneliness like I’d never seen before, his eyes dim with sorrow. He looked like his heart had just been broken, and he was holding the shattered pieces in his hands with no idea how to put them back together.
I felt my chest squeeze tightly, and I subconsciously reached out to loop my arms around his neck and pull him closer. “Don’t be mad, Christopher,” I whispered. I rubbed my cheeks up against his in a placating motion, like a kitten rubbing up against an older cat; this was one of his favorite things.
The brief intimate moment was immediately shattered by the man’s following violence.
It was only when he picked me up and set me down on the bed that I noticed the large plastic bag from the adult shop this morning. The realization that he hadn’t been using a condom abruptly dawned upon me. This wouldn’t do; I couldn’t afford to get pregnant — not like Crystal.
Before I could dwell on the thought any longer, Christopher started thrusting into me once more.
“Wait, stop… You didn’t use protection…” I begged weakly, lying lifelessly on the bed. In the end, the only thing that crossed my mind before drifting off into unconsciousness was, He’s really mad at me this time.
