Page 48 of My Dark Divine
“You’re so beautiful, Venetia,” he cuts in, his hand cupping the side of my face as he looks down at me, lust burning in his eyes. “Have I told you that before?”
I manage to nod. “Yeah.”
“I will never get tired of telling you this,” he adds, plastering a kiss on my cheek, the side of my nose, and between my brows. It feels like he’s trying to put a patch onto a wound that needs stitches. “So beautiful. Every inch of your body. Do you realize how beautiful you are?”
Warmth spreads through my lower stomach as I mumble a soft, “Yes,” allowing the words to blend with the positive sensations, hoping they will consume my thoughts. I truly feel beautiful when he keeps reminding me of it.
“I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”
That’s the last thing he says before he plunges into me. A violent shriek slides past my lips when every inch of my body ignites with fire. I’m not wet enough to ease the intrusion, and it feels like he’s splitting me in half. My hands travel to his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin as I seek some sort of support. He eases out, and I inhale a deep breath, trying to blink off the black spots that dance across my vision, blurring the line between reality and fantasy.
“Relax, Venetia,” he grumbles. He parts my legs wider, and I’m so consumed by the aftershocks that I can’t react, allowing him to do whatever he wants. “This won’t work if you don’t fucking relax.”
Shame and guilt rise within me, creating a tight knot in my throat. Even after I pushed aside my needs and forced myself to enjoy this, I still feel like I’m messing everything up.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out weakly, and then, it happens again. Only this time, pain immediately spreads like wildfire, stealing my vision, hearing, and breath. The only thing I feel becomes the agony that rips me apart, both mentally and physically.
It hurts.
It hurts so much.
Something wet trickles down my legs and my eyes, and it feels like he’s pushing dozens of knives inside me. I’m trying, really trying to relax, but it doesn’t work. The muscles of my lower stomach are tight, the pressure inevitable. My legs keep closing back no matter how many times he forces them apart.
“Slow down,” I mumble, pulling him closer by his shoulders so he will notice my struggle. “Just slow down a little.”
“No, this is good,” he moans, throwing his head back, the pleasure etched onto his face. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So perfect for me.”
Minutes pass by, and finally, after all the struggle, the pain numbs my body to the point it feels like I cease to exist. My form keeps jerking up and down, pulling the sheets along with it. The ringing consumes my ears, and I slip into another world, feeling nothing.
Feeling everything.
When after what feels like years Zayden rolls away from me, violent tremors course through every fiber of my body. Every inch of my skin aches, and as I muster what little resolve I have left, I glance down, my sobs intensifying in my throat.
I didn’t even realize he was leaving marks all across me.
“Oh, baby.” He inches closer to me, his touch cold against the heat radiating from him. I can’t tell if that makes sense—nothing I think about right now feels coherent. “First time usually hurts like this. It’s okay.”
I cry harder when he wraps his arm around me, pressing me closer to his body. I cry because I feel used, and alsobecause I turned our first time into a disaster. I didn’t even kiss him back. The moment he started touching me, I couldn’t do anything, and I don’t know why.
I failed yet again.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper in his chest. He deserves someone more confident and more skilled. Someone better than me. “I’m so sorry I ruined this.”
He laughs, his hands cupping my face and turning me to him. “You look so funny right now with that red face of yours,” he says, his thumbs wiping off the tears that won’t stop streaming down my cheeks. “Like a pouty little tomato.”
Shame sweeps through me like never before, and I try to turn away from him, but he tightens his grip on me. “Stop feeling ashamed. You did okay. Next time will be better.”
That ‘okay’ feels more painful than everything he just made me feel. An ache grips my chest as he basically confirms that I ruined everything.
“I don’t know if I can handle this again,” I say, feeling as if it’s already beyond repair, and there’s nothing I can do to make it worse. “I’m sorry.”
He kisses my forehead. “Silly. Of course you can. I have an idea for you.”
Zayden releases me, and as he pulls away, I take a deep breath, only now aware of how suffocating his presence has been.
I watch as he searches through the nightstand before pulling out a small bottle of pills. “Have you ever tried these?” he asks, shaking the bottle for emphasis.
I swallow hard. “I—Drugs? No, I haven’t.”
