Worth It

By Nicki DeStasi

Anna lives every day the best she can while struggling against the demons that threaten to consume her and drag her back into the darkness of her troubled past. The last thing she needs right now is a guy, especially one as sweet and sexy as Jed.
When the attraction becomes too strong to resist, she gives into it. Even when she knows it’ll only end in disaster and leave her more her scared and broken than she was before.
Jed wants to find the right woman and he’s drawn to Anna by carnal magnetism, but she also brings out an alpha side of him that he’s never known. When his alpha rears its head, it triggers memories in Anna and her carefully crafted wall of protection begins to show cracks.
When fate and misunderstandings threaten their already delicate relationship, can they survive? When Anna’s demons threaten to be unearthed and Jed’s inner alpha only seem to make them worse, can they overcome?
Is it even worth it?
WARNING: this book contains violence, sex and adult language. Not recommend for readers under 18.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicki DeStasi
• Release date: Jan 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781484944295

Book preview

Anna! Mom snaps as she flicks on the blinker and switches lanes. Would you cut the knee-bouncing shit? I’m stressed enough without you fidgeting all over the place.

Putting a hand on my knee, I attempt to keep it still, but I’m so nervous right now, and the energy wants out. My heart is sprinting, my palms are sweating, and my nerves are way beyond frayed, but I try to relax anyway because I know my mom is having a hard time with this. It can’t be easy for her to see the man who once knew all her demons and who impregnated her at fifteen before abandoning her. I was told that when he’d made her take a paternity test, she had been shattered. Her love for him was unrequited, and that killed her. Ultimately, in the words of Maury Povich, He is the father. I guess his mom, my grandmother, forced him to visit on occasion. Then, he bolted completely when I was two, and my mom met my stepdad, Mike. I guess Rick—my biological father—thought Mike had the father thing covered, and he does—kind of.

Sorry, Mom, I mumble, looking out my window. I focus on the afternoon summer view, attempting to calm my jackhammering heart and brace myself for what’s coming.

How can I possibly prepare to meet my biological father? In my fourteen years, not a day has gone by when I haven’t daydreamed about meeting Rick. I don’t know how to describe the desire to know the man who gave me life. His absence eats at me and makes me wonder why he’s not there for me. What’s so wrong with me that he doesn’t want to know me? I ask myself that question every day. Every single time we take the trip from our small town of Groton, Massachusetts to Green Bay, Wisconsin where Rick along with my extended family lives, I’ve envisioned what it would be like to meet him. Almost every year, we come back to Green Bay to visit family, and every time, Mom contacts him to ask if he wants to visit with me.

Every time, he says no.

But this time, he said yes. I have no idea why he agreed to see me, but my heart swells with hope that I’ll finally have Rick in my life, and I’ll finally have someone who can love me like I need to be loved.

I’m sorry, Savannah. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, Mom says quietly while running a shaky hand over her blonde hair, which is haphazardly thrown together on top of her head. I’m so fucking stressed about having to see him that I could vomit. Not only do we have to come back to this shit place with all the shit memories it brings, but I have to see this asshole, and I’m barely hanging on to my sanity.

It’s okay, Mom. I understand, I mumble, wringing my fingers now that I’ve managed to still my knee.

A piece of me is hurt that she’s not more understanding of the emotional roller coaster I’m riding, but I brush off the self-centered thought. I’m getting used to it, and what she’s been through is much worse than having an absentee father. She’s struggling now, and it’s selfish to let her lack of concern wound me. I don’t know what triggered it, but for the last year, she’s been locking herself in her room and crying, only surfacing to lash out. I want to be there for her to help her, but I don’t know how. My dad, Mike—well, technically, stepdad, but he’s my dad in every way that counts—can’t help Mom either. He’s broken, too. He’s quiet and doesn’t show his love for me or the two sisters he gave me, but I know he loves us. He adopted me, and that in itself speaks volumes for how he must feel about me. He also works his butt off to provide for the family, and he gives up almost all his time to do it, too.

The car turns into the parking lot of the park where the visit will take place. My hope is overwhelming, but I’m also shaking with nerves. What if I’m not good enough? What if I’m not pretty enough, smart enough, skinny enough? What if he meets me and decides I’m not worth the trouble? The idea that my hope of having a relationship with Rick might be for nothing has my heart beating out of my chest.

I have to be perfect.

Mom steers the car into an empty parking space and roughly throws the car into park before turning off the ignition. When she sighs heavily, I glance over to see her face is drawn, and she looks a lot older than her thirty years. I wait for her to make the first move as the summer sun begins to bake us in the car now that the air conditioner is off. I don’t say anything though. I’m afraid that I might set her off.

She leans forward to rest her forehead on the steering wheel. I can’t believe I’m doing this. She lets out a soft, choked sob. I can’t fucking deal with any more stress right now, so just be good, Savannah, okay?

Okay, I whimper softly.

I don’t want to be the reason she withdraws further, so I’ll be as good as possible.

I’ll be good. I’ll be strong. I’ll be perfect. Not just for her, but for me, too. For us.

I have to be perfect for us.

The pressure makes my throat tighten and creates sweat along my forehead.

Failure is not an option. I have to be better than perfect.

She opens her door without another word, and I do the same. I round the corner of the car and meet my mom by the trunk, and we begin walking toward the park entrance where my actions will make or break the future I want, the future I yearn for, the future filled with someone who can love me.

I know my parents—my mom and Mike—love me the only way they know how, but I need more. I’m starved for a simple I love you or a hug.

A man dressed in jean shorts and a navy blue T-shirt, seated on top of a picnic table, comes into view. When his gaze lands on us, he stands to his full height that must be over six foot, and he begins strolling in our direction. My heart rate picks up as I watch the man, who has my jawline and my dark brown hair, approach closer and closer until he stops in front of us.

Not one of us speaks for an agonizing moment, but his eyes drink me in, and mine do the same with him. Finally, he reaches out, hooks his arms around my shoulders, and envelops me in a tight embrace. His display of affection startles me, but my heart soars, and tears of happiness prick my eyes. This is my dream come true, and no words can express the giddy happiness and relief I feel. My arms encircle his waist and I melt into him, breathing deeply with pure contentment.

My stomach bottoms out when the stench of alcohol assaults my nose.

He’s drunk. The stink makes my face crinkle in disgust, and I swallow the impulse to gag. I need to be strong. I need to be good. I need to be perfect. Fighting against the urge to pull away, I remain locked in his arms, clutching to the positive—he’s here with me.

Hi, Lynn, he says to my mom.

I hear nothing but the laughter of children and the chirping of birds close-by for several tense moments. Holding my breath as the seconds tick by, I wait to hear my mom’s response. I know she must be struggling to cope with this encounter, but when I hear her burst into tears, it breaks my heart. Prying myself away from Rick’s chest, I watch my mom sprint back to the car. I stare after her with wide eyes, fighting the urge to cry. I have no idea what to do.

Do I stay and talk to my biological father, knowing I might never get this opportunity again? Or should I console my mom, knowing I can’t leave her alone right now because she’s upset?

Go talk to your mom, Savannah. Everything will be fine, he says, the alcohol making his speech slower.

I peek up at him to see his eyes soften. He reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and then settles his wobbly hand on my shoulder.

He gives me a soft smile and says, I’ll call you next week when you’re back home, okay? I promise.

My heart melts, and I tentatively smile up at him. You sure?

He nods and lets his arms fall to his sides, swaying a little, and I drop my arms too. I’m sure, Savannah. I’m so happy that we were finally able to meet, and I know it’s going to work out between us. I promise I’ll call and write you. We can get to know each other, okay?

A big smile spreads across my face, and happiness explodes inside me. I’m so thankful for him right now that I don’t think I can put my feelings into words. He’s clearly drunk, but he also understands the predicament I’m in, and he promises to call me.

I throw my arms around his thin frame and whisper, Okay.

Squeezing him tight once more, I turn and sprint after my mom. Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t be more hopeful.

Everything is going to be okay. Rick will be there for me, and I’ll have someone to lean on, so I can help my mom, and everything is going to be great. It’ll be wonderful.

It’ll all be worth it.

It’s been three months since Rick decided to meet me, and I was so hopeful that he’d be the one to save me from my loneliness.

But he didn’t.

One step in front of the other—it’s the only way to move forward when everything is falling down and crumbling to pieces.

Rick never called.

He never wrote.

I’m starting to come to terms that he’s not going to.

I’m not worth it.

My biological father rejected his only child.

I fight back tears threatening to spill. I swallow them down and will my eyes not to water. Starting school and returning to my norm feels like Rick’s rejection is final, and that thought twists my gut.

I’m ripped back to reality when my earbud is snatched away.

Whatcha listening to? asks a deep, husky voice.

My head snaps in the direction of the voice, and my eyes lock on to pale green ones. My eyes widen as I take in the cutest boy I’ve ever seen. He’s tall, muscular, and obviously older than me. His sandy blond hair falls over his forehead. I want to reach out and run my fingers through his unruly locks. I’ve had a crush on my friend Jared for a long time, but this feels different. The tingling in my body and the hammering of my heart is like nothing I’ve ever felt. His handsome, perfectly sculpted, boy-next-door looks could be used in a Gap commercial. His smile is broad, perfect, and completely disarming, and I smile timidly in response.

He thrusts his hand out. I’m Todd.

A blush heats my neck as I smile back, take his hand and tell him my name. But when my gaze settles back on those beautiful pale green eyes, my smile slips faintly from what I see. His eyes seem…off. I don’t know what exactly is off about them. I’ve never seen this look before, but the feeling that seeps into the pit of my stomach is…ominous.

A month later, I’m walking home from the bus stop after school with Todd. I’m basking in the calmness that settles in my heart and throughout my body. I’ve felt this way since he asked me out two weeks ago, and the feeling only seems to grow stronger, especially when he does little things to make me feel special. Even though he’s three years older, he took a chance on me. He tells me I’m pretty, and gave me my first kiss. He does other little things that make me stand up straighter and give me a bounce to my step. This is the first time in my life when I’ve felt special and wanted, and I cling to it.

I cling to him.

He reaches down and interlaces our fingers, and a thrill shoots through me. Every time he touches me, I can’t help but grin. The happiness that fills my heart and lifts my spirit is almost addictive.

I smile up at him. How come you don’t hold my hand at school?

His bark of laughter startles me, and my lips tip down in a frown.

What? I ask.

Why would I hold your hand at school?

His tone of voice makes me feel childish, and my nose crinkles in confusion.

Because we’re dating?

Yeah, but I don’t want other people to know.

My mouth drops open. Why not?

Before I realize what’s happening, I tumble forward and land on my hands and knees, scuffing them both. I look up with wide eyes and parted lips to find him staring down at me. His jaw is hard, and so are his eyes.

Despite his stare that makes my stomach churn and the disapproval seeping from him, I ask, Did you just trip me?

He bends over to get in my face, and the underlying anger in his tight expression sends a shiver of fear down my spine. Don’t ask stupid questions, Savannah, and I won’t have to do things like that, he says, his tone is as hard as his expression.

I don’t want him to be angry with me. I don’t want to lose him or the relief from the pain and happiness he gives me, so I quickly whisper, Sorry.

A few weeks later, I approach the lunch table.

Shannon shouts, Happy birthday!

I think she enjoys embarrassing me. The smile on my best friend’s face is the only thing that stops me from smacking her.

Why don’t you say it a little louder Shan? I don’t think people across the street heard you, I mutter as I plop in between her and Jared.

She rolls her eyes. Smile, it’s your birthday. You’re not allowed to be grumpy.

Jared snakes an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a half hug. He plops his usual friendly kiss on my head. Happy birthday, beautiful. How does it feel to be fifteen, like the rest of us?

Feels like any other day. It kinda sucks to be born in the fall though. I smile up at him as our hug separates.

Until I met Todd, I’d wanted Jared. He’s sweet and gorgeous with dark brown hair and matching eyes. My eyes shift and catch his newest girlfriend scowling at us. A month ago, her presence would have been a smack in the face, a reminder that my feelings weren’t shared. But now, I have someone who does share my feelings.

Thinking about him, my eyes drift around the cafeteria to see if I can catch a glimpse of Todd. Even though we’ve officially been dating for a month, he still doesn’t want people to know that we’re together, and that is a little jab to my heart. I don’t want him to be embarrassed of me, but I try to understand. I want to make him happy, so I swallow my disappointment.

Who are you looking for? Alison asks.

Alison and Aaron, who are dating, are the final two in my little group of friends. Well, Shannon’s boyfriend is part of our group, too, but he goes to a different school.

I quickly bring my attention back to the table because Todd doesn’t want even my friends to know, and I don’t want my wandering eyes to spark questions. No one.

Really? You looked like you were trying to find someone, Alison pushes

Nope, I say. So, are you guys going to the football game on Friday?

I know I won’t be able to go because my dad is working, and someone needs to be home with my sisters. Mom will be there, but she’ll probably be in her bedroom—again.

The distraction works, and they chatter on with their plans for Friday night. No one is surprised when I say I can’t join them. I zone out until I notice everyone has stopped talking. When I realize that their eyes are focused behind me, I look over my shoulder, and ice seeps through my veins. Todd is standing with clenched fists and a blank stare that just barely conceals his anger. My heart starts to race, and my palms begin to sweat.

Something is wrong, very wrong.

Savannah, he says evenly, can I talk to you in the hall for a minute?

I glance back at my friends, who are wearing matching shocked expressions. When their eyes shift back to me, I see the questions forming. I stand up and mumble, I’ll be right back.

I start to follow Todd when Jared puts a hand on my arm, stopping me, and I turn to see his brow furrowed.

You okay? Jared asks.

I open my mouth to respond, but Todd clips, She’s fine. Let’s go, Savannah.

My gut is a jumbled mess, but I give my friends a half smile and turn to follow him out into the hallway.

When the cafeteria door closes behind me and the two of us are alone, he turns to me and pushes me against the nearby wall. His hands grip my biceps and his face is an inch from mine when he asks through clenched teeth, What the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to make me angry?

My eyes widen, and my body electrifies with anxiety. I rack my brain to figure out what I did wrong, what I did to make him so angry. My heart races as I stammer out, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know what you mean.

Why is that little shit putting his hands on you?

Who? Jared?

Todd’s jaw clenches, and his hand on my arm squeezes tighter, but he says nothing.

He’s just my friend. We’ve been friends since middle school, I say in a rush. Even though I’ve had a crush on Jared since I’ve known him, my feelings for him are nothing compared to what I’m feeling for Todd.

If he’s just a friend, why the fuck did he kiss you? His eyes flash with anger.

I…I don’t know. He’s always done that, I explain quickly.

I don’t like him. I don’t want you hanging around him.

My face drops. Jared is my friend, and he has been for a few years now. I don’t want to make Todd mad at me, but I don’t want to lose my friend either. But he’s my friend.

That little asshole wants in your pants, and I don’t want him anywhere near you.

My face flames at the mention of sex. Todd was my first kiss, and other than a few make-out sessions, I’ve never done anything more than that. Jared doesn’t see me that way anyway.

I shake my head. He doesn’t.

His hand grips me harder, and I wince.

So, you want him then, huh? Is that it?

What? No! I guess, on some level, it’s a lie, but I’m not pining after Jared anymore.

I have Todd, and I care about him. I think I might even love him, so I don’t want him to think that I want Jared. He might leave me, and that thought makes me tense and scared.

You sure? he asks, his face softening a little.

The stiffness in my body begins to melt away. Yeah, I only care about you, I reply gently.

He rewards me with a gorgeous smile. My body relaxes completely when he envelops me in his arms and presses his lips on top of my head. He keeps them there for a few moments, allowing contentment to settle over me.

I think you should prove it, he mumbles against my head.

I tip my chin up to look at him, my face puckering in confusion. He smiles at me, but it makes me uneasy. Something about it doesn’t seem right. It reminds me of the first day I met him at the bus stop.

He doesn’t clarify, but he takes my hand and leads me down the hall until we come to a stop in front of the janitor’s closet. My body begins to tense when he opens the door and motions for me to enter the small enclosed space.

What are you doing? I ask him carefully.

He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. We’re going to prove our feelings to each other.

My brow furrows. In a closet? How are we going to do that?

I’ll show you.

I peek into the dark closet and then back at him.

His lips twist with annoyance, and he says, That is, unless you don’t care about me.

Of course I do, I say automatically.

Despite the warning bell sounding off in the back of my head, I walk forward. He follows behind me, and when the door clicks shut, I suck in a breath. I hear rustling, and I begin to worry my bottom lip because it sounds like he’s undoing his pants. My shoulders tense, and my face flames in the quiet darkness as understanding begins to sink in.

Come here, he says quietly.

I move slowly, my uncertainty causing me to stall.

When I finally reach him, he takes my hand and guides it onto him. When my fingertips touch the soft skin of his privates, and I try to jerk away, but his grip tightens painfully.

I thought you cared about me. Don’t you want me to feel good?

I can’t see him in the darkness, but I can hear the warning in his voice. Tears prick my eyes when I realize that I have no choice but to take this step. I could refuse, but it would make him angry, and I don’t want that.

Resigned, I say just above a whisper, Yes I want you to feel good.

Good, Savanah, he says tenderly.

My shoulders tense up to my ears as he wraps my fingers around the hard length of him. None of this feels right. I’m not ready for this, but I feel a strange warming sensation between my legs.

Mmm, he moans quietly as he guides my fist up and down. He tightens my fingers around him and increases the pace.

My cheeks are on fire when I realize that I think I like touching him.

Does that make me a slut?

I want you to keep moving your hand up and down on me like this, and I’m gonna help you feel good, too, he says in a hoarse voice.

My rhythm falters slightly with his words. This is all too fast, but both his likely anger if I refuse and the growing heat between my legs won’t allow me to stop him as I feel him reach for my jeans. The warring humiliation and desire make my body shake as he unbuttons and unzips my pants and reaches into my underwear.

Don’t stop your hand, he pants as his fingers move lower, trailing through my soft hair.

I gasp when he reaches my privates, and I tense when he slips a finger inside.

That’s right, Savannah. It’s okay. Don’t be scared. We’re showing each other our feelings. This is the way it’s supposed to be, he whispers into my ear.

My body relaxes a little, and I try to shove down the unease.

He’s showing me he cares, and I should be happy.

Move your hand faster, he says with ragged breathes as he continues to explore me.

His touch is igniting something inside me. I’m trying to do what he says and relax my body, but I can’t do it completely. I can’t shake the shame of acting like a slut, but I try to ignore it and move my hand up and down faster. I feel him grow rigid, and a part of me is glad that I can make him feel good. I like the pulsing between my legs and the fact that Todd wants to make me feel like this.

You’re so wet, he groans.

His finger dips deeper, but this time, it hurts a little, and I wince. My grip on him stutters.

Don’t stop, he growls.

His tone of voice washes away the throbbing between my legs, and my body stiffens again. He groans loudly, and I feel warm liquid on my hand. I flush, realizing that I have jizz on me. I swallow the lump that formed in my throat and look around for something to wipe my hand with.

Once I’m clean and straightened out, I turn back to him.

He wraps his arms around me and sighs that sounds like he’s content. See, isn’t that nice? Showing each other how much we care?

I feel humiliated, but a big part of me is pleased that I made him happy, so I nod my head.

Good girl.

I smile into his chest. Earning his approval fills me with warmth, so I squeeze him tighter, and he returns the gesture.

I think I love him.

***

A year later, I’m sitting with Todd in his bed. I lean into him as he runs his fingers through my hair. Turning my head, I smile up at him. As my heart swells, I lean over and kiss his bare chest. He snakes his arm around me and pulls me closer, causing me to wince. We just had sex again, and I’m sore down there. I don’t really like sex because it always hurts, but I want to show him I love him.

You really are beautiful, he muses before ducking his head and pressing his lips against mine.

My heart soars, and I reach up to tangle my fingers in his hair. I really am the luckiest girl in the world. When he pulls away, my lips curl into a contented smile.

Thanks, I say.

He smirks back before getting out of bed and stepping into his boxers and then his jeans. Although I’d love to stay here with him forever, I need to get home, so I can finish my homework and check on my sisters.

Getting out of bed, I sigh, and I start putting my clothes back on when I remember I wanted to ask Todd something. Do you think you can go to homecoming with me?

He snorts before saying, Don’t be fucking stupid, Savannah.

My lips tip down into a frown. But it’s my junior year.

He turns his head, raises his eyebrow, and twists his lips. Shit, I’m arguing with him. He hates that. I lick my lips as my heartbeat speeds up. I don’t want to upset him, but I really want to go. I couldn’t go last year because people didn’t know we were together then, but after the closet incident, everyone knew. I thought we could have a nice time together this year.

Please, I say in a small voice. It would really mean a lot to me. I really want to go, and I don’t want to be there without you.

His body tenses, and his eyes harden as he turns to fully face me, making me immediately regret pushing the issue. As his still bare chest heaves, he appears to be trying to control his anger.

My body turns to stone, and my eyes grow wide. Oh shit.

Are you fucking kidding me? You think that you’re going to go with someone else, you little fucking slut?

I shake my head quickly and take a step backward when he moves closer to me.

No, no, no. That’s not what I meant, I stammer out as I raise my hands in defense while backing up from his advance.

You’re not going—not with me, not with anyone else. He reaches me and grabs my hip hard.

I just nod my head quickly, too afraid to open my mouth and make him angrier.

I knew I shouldn’t have argued with him.

He grips my hip tighter. I should fuck you again, so you understand that you’re mine.

My mind races, and tears prick my eyes. I know that I’m yours. I’m sorry.

He releases a breath through his nose, and his lips purse, but his body starts to relax with my compliance. A few moments of silence passes as he studies my face, and I inwardly pray that he believes me, that he won’t be mad anymore. Finally, his body completely unwinds. He leans in to kiss my nose, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Good. I don’t have time to fuck you again anyway. I need to get to work.

I smile up at him, thankful that he has forgiven me, and I count my lucky stars because I got off easy—this time.

At seventeen, I thought I was smart, but I know I’m about to do something stupid. My heart races, and my body curls into itself, knowing that my only choice will upset him.

Take off your clothes, Savannah, Todd demands from across his bedroom.

It’s been two years since I met him, and I knew this was coming. I know the drill. It’s ingrained into every microscopic cell of my body. Dread makes my stomach churn as the words I need to say crawl up my throat.

I don’t think I can do it tonight, I whisper.

My body shakes as I watch his face turn scarlet, and his eyes grow wide with rage. He stalks toward me, but I scramble backward. Soon, my back meets the wall with a thud that mirrors the pounding in my chest. The blood drains from my face because I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry. Time both slows and speeds up as I watch him march toward me, each step making my heart hammer faster.

When he reaches me, he leans in so close that I can see every single hair on his stubbled face. My body shakes as I avert my eyes. I’m terrified to see how much I’ve upset him.

What the fuck did you just say, you dirty fucking whore? he grits out, spit peppering my face.

My chest heaves, and tears prick my eyes. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. I’m really sore from yesterday. I don’t think I can do it today, I choke out.

I flinch as he brings his hand up, but instead of the slap I was expecting, he runs his hand through my hair gently, soothingly. He says nothing, but his change of behavior makes my body tense more. Eventually, the stroke of his hand relaxes my muscles, and I melt into his touch. I remember that he can be gentle and caring. He loves me.

Then, it happens.

Pain sears through my scalp when his fingers grip the hair close to my head. My heart gallops in my chest when he shoves me down, my knees hitting the hardwood floor, fast and hard. Without thinking, I let a cry escape my mouth. I expect the slap when his palm lands on my cheek, and my face stings. My heart sinks because I know better than to make noise.

Your worthless little pussy too used up, huh? Fine, this will have to do. Agitated, he unzips his pants with his free hand and then pulls out his dick.

I swallow back bile and shame when I realize what’s coming—my well-deserved punishment. I shouldn’t have refused him. It’s my fault he’s angry. Stupid, stupid, stupid! My cheek stings more when his hand crashes to my face again.

Open the fuck up, you dirty slut.

My face still burns, a reminder of what happens when I upset him, so I part my lips quickly to avoid provoking him more.

Eager for my cock, aren’t you?

I gag when he hits the back of my throat. He grips his fists in my hair, and he roughly moves my head back and forth on his length, violently fucking my mouth. My arms hang limply by my side as I shut down the best I can.

Trying to clear my head, I repeat my mantra over and over, He loves me. Everything is fine. He loves me.

If I do this, he won’t be mad. He’s my safe haven, and I cannot lose him. I need him, and I’ll do anything to make him happy, to make him stay. But tears well up when I can’t escape into my head. Every time he lowers my mouth onto him, I’m reminded that I am a dirty whore, and I deserve this. My tears spill over, and my gut tightens as shame sets in. It’s my own fault for refusing him. Spittle slides down my chin as he repeatedly gags me, making it difficult for me to breathe.

You’re such a dirty slut. You love my cock in your mouth. You love it when I fuck you like this. You…ah, he groans. Jesus Christ! Fuck, fuck, fuck, he pants with every surge forward.

His pace increases, going deeper, harder. I can’t hold back when a particularly brutal thrust triggers the reflexes I’ve been desperately trying to suppress, and bile crawls up my throat.

No, no, no!

Jesus, fuck! What the fuck? he shouts, pushing me backward roughly to stare down at his vomit-covered jeans.

I’m sorry. I scramble backward, my trembling body hitting the wall.

I’ve made him even angrier. I’m entering new territory now, and for the first time ever, I have the urge to flee. I fight it because it’ll only make him irate. I need to make him happy. I can’t lose him. I’m worthless without him.

God, can’t you do anything right? You’re so fucking disgusting. He slides down his jeans and boxers before stepping out of them.

He prowls toward me with shining, narrowed eyes. You’re going to get it now.

A tremor slices through me, and an overwhelming need to run pulses through my body. I rise to my feet while scenarios of escape scatter through my mind. I take a step toward the door, my eyes never leaving his. His eyes widen before his face hardens, and his jaw clenches. Then, his lips curl into a grin that I’ve come to know well. It can only be described as foreboding.

Are you fucking kidding me, Savannah? You’re gonna run? He chuckles ominously. This is going to be fun.

My body goes rigid, and I start panting as panic wipes away all other thoughts. My bare feet make a move of their own accord. I don’t want to lose him because I love him so completely, but my survival instinct kicks in as I lurch toward the door. He lunges after me just as fast and wraps his fist in my hair. A whimper escapes my lips, and my scalp stings with the sudden change in direction. He chucks me face down on the floor, and my cheekbone aches as he pins me down. He’s always careful not to leave bruises on my face, but I can already feel one forming.

"Don’t forget you asked for this. You are my Savannah, and I will always catch you if you run. You can’t escape me," he rumbles dangerously as he presses deeper into me.

I close my eyes. My heart sinks as despair shoots through me, and tears roll down my cheeks. I know better. I don’t know why the thought of escape ever flew through my mind.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Please, I beg. I mean it with every ounce of my soul. I hate myself when I make him mad. I wish I weren’t so stupid. I wish I hadn’t tried to run. Why can’t I do anything right?

He lifts off of me, but I don’t dare move. I deserve whatever is coming. He hoists my hips, so I try to make him happy by complying with him and lifting myself up on my hands. I let out a yelp when he whacks my ear with his palm.

Keep your fat ass down, he demands, his deep voice threatening.

I’m sorry, I whisper. A soft sob escapes as I return my torso to the floor. I berate myself for screwing up and doing the wrong thing—again. I’m so fucking stupid.

I snivel when he pushes my yoga pants and panties down to mid-thigh, exposing me to him.

Shut—he lays a hard smack on my ass—up.

Tears run down my face when I realize