Page 83 of Deliria

“Scream all you want, Scarlett. No one is coming to rescue you.” My husband says in a voice that is eerily calm.

Something forces its way into me. I jerk, gritting my teeth and I realise it’s Vincent’s hands, his fingers.

“Such a whore.” Vincent mutters as he penetrates me further.

Tears begin to stream down my face. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to give in and show weakness, but they’ve already beaten me before I could even try to defend myself.

How long has this been going on? How long have Alex and his father been abusing me?

My body jolts, rocking as Vincent starts thrusting in and out. Is he trying to get me off? Is he trying to pretend that any of this is about my pleasure?

“So fucking wet.” He groans. “The bitch is dripping all over me.”

I’m not, I know I’m not. I know it’s a lie.

Maybe that’s what he has to tell himself. To convince himself, because deep down he knows this is wrong. That it’s rape. That he’s a fucked-up piece of shit.

Is he trying to pretend that this is consensual, that I’m into this? That I what, get off on fucking both Alex and his dad?

Bile rises up my throat before I can stop it. Instinct and reflex has me swallowing it back down, and I can’t tell if that sharp acid taste makes this situation better or worse.

My eyes dart around the room. I don’t know what I’m searching for, what miracle I hope to find. But that sinking feeling hits me harder as I suddenly realise from the view out the window exactly where I am.

I’m in the mansion. The Forster Mansion.

Alex brought me here.

“Alex…” I cry again, praying that this time might be enough, that whatever they’ve done to me now might be enough.

My husband grabs my hair, yanking my head to the side as he too moves to kneel on the bed.

“Do me a favour,” Vincent says from between my thighs. “Shut up her crying. I’m sick of hearing it.”

“With pleasure.” Alex says, unzipping his pants, pulling his cock out and pressing it to my lips.

It’s engorged, red. He’s obviously getting off on this whole thing.

I clench my jaw, pressing my teeth tightly together. No fucking way am I letting his disgusting cock in my mouth. No fucking way am I sucking him off.

Only, something happens. Something horrific.

I scream out, writhing in pain as something unfathomable shoots right up my core. Alex chooses that exact moment to ram his cock into my mouth, and the grip on my hair becomes a silent threat that if I dare to do anything now, he’ll snap my neck in half.

But it doesn’t matter. None of it does.

Whatever his father is doing to me is so much fucking worse than Alex’s treatment.

“Listen to it,” Vincent laughs. “Listen to her greedy cunt. Listen to how she squelches.”

He’s fisting me.

Jesus fucking Christ.

My toes curl in agony as my body locks up. Nothing about this feels pleasurable. Every cell in my body is consumed by the feeling of his hand forcing itself into me, demanding space I don’t have.

“Filthy. Fucking. Whore.”

He punctuates every word with one brutal thrust after another.

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