Page 59 of Deliria

I shake my head.No. No, that’s a lie.

He lowers his head, his mouth right by my ear as he thrusts. “You wanted it Scarlett, you took off your slutty little dress, and while your husband watched on, you sucked my cock like you couldn’t get enough.”

“I didn’t.”

His laughter fills my ears as his disgusting body continues to abuse me. And I can see it. That scene. That moment.

We were here, in this very house. It was the first time I’d met them, Alex’s parents. Irene had retired early for the night. Alex and his father and I, we were having a nightcap. We were talking. Alex was trying to impress me with some business thing and I’d just sat there, feeling like the alcohol had gone to my head far too quickly to be normal, feeling like my mind couldn’t focus.

I’d tried to blink, to gain some composure. Was I drooling? God, I hoped not. But it felt like I was.

I’d only had one glass, two at most. Why did everything feel like it was spinning?

God it was hot. So hot.

Something seemed to prickle beneath my skin, like an itch I couldn’t quite pinpoint. I’d let out a gasp, and it had sounded far too salacious, far too inappropriate for the setting.

What the fuck was wrong with me? If I didn’t know better I’d think I was high, no, not high, turned on, gagging for it. I could feel arousal pooling between my thighs, but why? Why was I reacting like this? Why did it feel like my blood was pounding in my ears while desire pounded in my most intimate of places?

And then Vincent had made some crude remark, something about wanting a real look at me, without all the fancy wrapping getting in the way.

And Alex had laughed and said ‘what else had he brought me here for?’.

I’d looked between them, confused. What was going on here? What even was this? Did they know, could they tell that I was feeling… I don’t even want to define how I was feeling. It was shameful, disgusting, no decent human felt the amount of lust that was churning in me at this moment.

But my dress, my dress was being undone. Unzipped. I hadn’t done it. I know I hadn’t.

And that cool air swirled around my body.

No.

NO.

I didn’t want to do that.

I didn’t…

I shut my eyes. I shake my head more violently, swearing that I can hear my screams ringing out in my ears, but I know it’s just the past. Just more ghosts demanding to be suddenly let out and vanquished.

“You bastard.” I scream. “You drugged me, even then…”

He thrusts into me so hard my hips slam into the wood, and more pain explodes in my body.

“You were always a whore, Scarlett. That was the point.”

“I didn’t, I wasn’t…” Tears start to pool. I don’t know whether it’s the fact he’s raping me, or the realisation that this abuse had been going on far longer than I’d realised. Far longer than just my supposed sickness and my move to this infernal house.

“You took after your mother in that regard too.” He continues. “She liked to strut around our office in those tight little dresses. She enjoyed the attention, preened under the gaze of so many men.”

“No,” I choke. That’s a lie. A nasty, horrible, bullshit lie.

“Yes,” He groans. “She was a filthy little slut. Oh, she pretended not to be, but I knew deep down what she was. We all did.”

“My mother was a kind…”

“Filthy. Fucking. Slut.” He punctuates every word with one brutal thrust after another.

The pain of her death hits me harder. The pain of this entire situation seems to break me more. I just want it over. I just want whatever this ending is to be here. Right now.

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