Page 113 of Vows of Silence

“Silas, please s-stop. Please. I will n-never forgive y-you for this,” I sobbed, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely speak.

Silas pulled away from me, and for one amazing moment I thought he had listened to me. I thought I had got through to him.

But then his hands went to his trousers, pulling down the zip.

I didn’t see the rest. I fought beneath him like a wild animal—I bucked my hips and tried to throw us both to the side. I tried to wrap my legs around him to get control and manipulate his weight. I lashed out, I bit, I even screamed until my throat felt like it was bleeding, but none of it mattered.

He was easily able to gather my hands up. He had no issue with pinning me down and opening my legs, settling beneath them. With his hips pinning me down, I was no longer able to thrust my body away from him.

Keeping my arms above my head with one hand, he reached between our bodies and lined his cock up with the entrance of my pussy.

Just before he pushed inside me, he lowered his mask to my face, the silver lips touching mine in a mocking kiss before he thrust his hips forward, slamming his cock as deeply as he could in me.

I cried out, the tears spilling freely from my eyes. But that wasn’t enough for Silas. He needed to punish me more. And so his fingers continued to play with my clit until moans were wrapped around my sobs, and my mind was too confused to comprehend the betrayal.

He grunted above me, sounding almost pained with the pleasure he was finding from violating me.

And I hated how my body responded to that. I hated how my nipples pebbled, how my toes curled, how his moans flooded me with darts of arousal until I could hear how wet he was making me.

I was vaguely aware of the branches on the ground cutting into my skin, spilling my blood, cementing this as the cruel act of violence it was, and I focused on that—focused on the pain as a way to escape.

But Silas had other ideas. He squeezed my clit in the way he knew I loved, picking up the pace of his thrusts. My breasts bounced in time to his movements, and I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped me, the moan of pleasure that was wrung from my throat without permission.

I screamed again. Not just because of what he was doing to me, but also the way my body was betraying me. I screamed for the injustice of it all. For the way, somewhere deep inside me, I wished for him to never stop what he was doing.

Because even though this was a disgusting act, some part of me wanted it. I couldn’t deny how good it felt. I couldn’t deny the way my body responded. But it was also much more than that. Because I also couldn’t fight that Ilikedthat it was Silas doing this. Ilikedhaving his weight on me, his hands touching me, his cock inside me.

I liked that I got a part of him that no one else got.

Even with the blood still on his mask. Even with the lack of consent. Even when my mouth screamed no—I liked it.

And I fucking hated myself for it.

“I hate you,” I sobbed, but he only laughed. How could he do anything else when my pussy was clenching and unclenching around him? When my back was arching into his touch? When my legs were shaking from something other than fear? Something that had everything to do with him and what he was doing to me.

He grabbed both of my thighs, his fingers digging into me, and pulled them further open, spreading me wide. And then his hips were relentless, thrusting into me so fast my body moved up the forest floor.

And then I felt it. The moment this went from mildly pleasurable to mind-numbingly fantastic.

My stomach caved, my vision blackened, and even though I shook my head to rid the sensation, even though I cried and covered my face in shame, my orgasm slammed into me, ripping moans of pleasure from my throat.

I floated away, wave after wave of pleasure taking me further and further away from the act itself and focusing only on how good it felt.

I didn’t notice when Silas finished inside me. I didn’t notice when he pulled his cock out of me, only for his fingers to gather up the cum that was leaking out of me, pushing it back inside my pussy.

I didn’t feel him stand up and arrange his clothes back into place.

I couldn’t feel any of that. Because once my orgasm ebbed away, all I could feel was disgust and shame.

Chapter 37

The Flame

Silas looked down at me one last time, his silver mask looking more sinister than I could ever recall, and then he walked away from me, leaving me alone in the forest.

I don’t know how long I lay there, barely clothed, covered in bruises, the wind whipping against my skin. On some deeper level, I knew I needed to get up, to clothe myself, to clean myself up. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not yet.

Every part of me ached. Every part of me was screaming in protest.