"Hello, Daniel."
Her voice slides like ice down my spine. I can't move, frozen in the most vulnerable position imaginable, still mid-stream.
Holly presses against my back, her arms snaking around my waist. I can feel her breath hot against my neck, her glasses digging slightly into my shoulder blade.
"You can't marry her," she whispers, her lips brushing my ear. "You know that, right?"
My heart pounds so hard I'm sure she can feel it through my shirt. I try to finish peeing, my body rigid with tension and fear.
"How did you even know about that?" I manage to ask, my voice strained. "We didn't tell you anything about getting married."
Her soft laugh vibrates against my back as her hands tighten around my waist.
"I was watching you two last night," she says, her tone casual as if admitting to checking the weather.
"This is getting ridiculous," I say, trying to inject so strength into my voice. "Let go, Holly."
"Or what?" she asks, her tone suddenly sharp. "You'll tell Mommy that I'm being an to you? That I invaded your precious bathroom ti?"
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the panic rising in my chest. "I'm marrying Emily tomorrow. There's nothing you can do about it."
Holly's arms finally release , and I turn to face her. The bathroom suddenly feels claustrophobic, too small for both of us. Her expression is cold, calculated behind those wire-rimd glasses.
"I wonder what my mother would think if she saw our little video," she says, her head tilting slightly. "Do you think she'd still want to marry you after seeing you force yourself on her precious daughter?"
The threat hangs in the air between us, heavy and poisonous. My stomach twists into knots.
"Enough, Holly!" I snap, my patience finally breaking.
Her face transforms instantly, the cold calculation lting into sothing more vulnerable.
"Please, Daniel," she whispers, her voice suddenly soft and desperate. "Please don't marry her."
Before I can respond, she's pushing down onto the toilet seat, her hands already working at my belt buckle. I try to stop her, but there's sothing frantic in her movents that catches off guard.
I'm trying to protest, but my words die in my throat as Holly's fingers wrap around my still-exposed cock. Her touch is electric as usual, sending unwanted signals straight to my brain as she strokes with determined precision.
"Daniel, please," she whispers, her voice cracking with emotion I didn't think she was capable of. "Please don't marry my mother."
Blood rushes to my groin despite the alarm bells screaming in my head.
"I love her, Holly," I manage to say, my voice strained with the effort of fighting my body's reaction. "I'm marrying her tomorrow."
Holly's eyes fill with tears, the sight so unexpected it montarily stuns . Behind those wire-rimd glasses, her blue eyes, so much like Emily's but sohow different, shine with genuine pain.
"But I love you, Daniel," she says, each word landing like a physical blow.
Sothing inside snaps. The manipulation, the blackmail, the violation, and now this ridiculous declaration? Anger surges through , hot and clarifying.
Before I can verbalize my rage, Holly's already hiking up her skirt with her free hand. In one fluid motion, she pulls her panties aside and positions herself over . I try to push her away, but she sinks down, enveloping in that now-familiar tightness that makes my breath catch against my will.
"Fuck, Holly, stop…" My protest cos too late as she settles fully onto my lap, her inner walls gripping with possessive force.
"Can't you feel how perfect we are together?" she gasps, rocking her hips in small circles. "She doesn't deserve you."
I grab her waist, intending to lift her off , but she misinterprets the gesture as encouragent. She leans forward, her forehead pressed against mine as she establishes a rhythm that makes coherent thought increasingly difficult.
"She's twice your age, Daniel," Holly whispers, her breath hot against my face. "Think about it. When you're thirty-nine, she'll be sixty-four. When you're in your pri, she'll be a senior citizen."
Holly's lips find my neck, hot and desperate as she rolls her hips with increasing urgency. Each kiss burns like acid against my skin. I feel myself responding physically even as my mind screams in protest.
"Holly, stop," I manage, my voice breaking. "You don't love . You're just confused."
She pulls back just enough to look at . "I do love you," she insists, never stopping her movents. "I love you so much, Daniel."
I grab her shoulders, forcing her to et my gaze fully. "Every ti you've fucked has been rape," I say, the words tearing from my throat like broken glass. "Do you understand that? This isn't love. It's assault."
A cruel smile twists her lips, so different from her mother's warm expressions. "But your body enjoys it," she whispers, grinding down harder. "Look how hard you are inside right now."
Sothing inside shatters. All the compartntalized pain, all the carefully contained rage I've been suppressing for weeks cos rushing to the surface like magma from a volcano.
"Holly," I say, my voice suddenly steady despite the tears welling in my eyes. "I hate you. I hate you so much it hurts. You disgust ."
The words hang between us, raw and honest in a way I've never allowed myself to be with her before. Rage-filled tears spill down my cheeks as she continues riding , her body betraying no reaction to my confession.
Her face contorts, sothing between agony and fury flashing across her features. "No," she shrieks, her voice cracking with desperation. "Please don't say that."
I turn my face away, unable to look at her anymore, but she follows, suddenly frantic. Her lips find my neck again, this ti with teeth. She starts nipping at my skin, little stinging bites that make gasp despite myself.
"Stop it," I hiss, but she's beyond listening now.
She latches onto the sensitive spot on the left of my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. The suction creates a bizarre counterpoint to the rhythm of her hips, and my treacherous body responds. I feel myself tightening, the pressure building at the base of my spine despite my emotional revulsion. Follow current novels on novel(ꜰ)ire
"I hate you," I repeat through gritted teeth, even as my orgasm crashes through without permission.
Holly moans against my neck, her inner walls clenching around as she feels pulsing inside her. The physical release brings no relief, only a deeper sense of violation and self-loathing that makes want to crawl out of my own skin.
When it's over, she collapses against my chest, breathing heavily. I sit frozen, tears still streaming down my face, feeling hollow and used.
"Get off ," I say, my voice empty of emotion now.
Holly doesn't move. She sits perfectly still, her weight pinning to the toilet seat, her eyes studying my tear-streaked face with clinical detachnt. The mont stretches between us like an endless void until a soft knock breaks the silence.
"Danny? You okay in there, sweetie?" Emily's voice filters through the door, concerned and gentle. "You've been gone a while. Did you fall asleep on the toilet or sothing?"
My blood freezes in my veins. Holly's eyes widen behind her glasses, but that cruel smile returns to her lips as she places a finger against them, signaling to stay quiet.
"I'm fine!" I call out, trying to keep my voice steady despite the panic clawing at my throat. "Just... stomach issues. I'll be out in a minute."
"Do you need anything? So dicine, maybe?" Emily's voice is so tender, so caring, it makes fresh tears spring to my eyes.
"No, I'm okay. Thanks." I'm impressed by how normal I sound while Holly remains firmly seated on my lap, my release slowly leaking between us.
"Alright, baby. Don't rush. I'll be waiting in the living room."
I listen to Emily's footsteps receding down the hallway, each one like a hamr blow to my chest. When I'm sure she's gone, I grab Holly's shoulders and physically lift her off , not caring this ti if I hurt her in the process.
"Get out," I whisper, my voice shaking with rage as I stand and pull up my pants. "Now."
Holly adjusts her skirt with maddening casualness, watching with those calculating eyes. "You're mine, Daniel," she says, her voice eerily calm. "You always will be."
As her words sink in, sothing in Holly's face changes. Her usual calculated expression fractures, revealing sothing wild and unhinged beneath the surface. Her eyes widen behind those wire-rimd glasses, pupils dilating until they nearly swallow the blue irises entirely.
"If you marry my mother," she whispers, her voice trembling with an intensity that makes the hair on my arms stand up, "I promise I'll make you regret it."
The threat hangs between us, vibrating with malice. I see Holly completely unmasked, no manipulation, no gas, just raw, unfiltered desperation and rage.
I say nothing, just stare her down with all the contempt I can muster. Sothing in my expression must finally reach her because she takes a small step back, her shoulders sagging slightly.
Without another word, Holly turns and slips out of the bathroom as quietly as she entered, leaving alone with the aftermath of her violation.
I pull my pants up with shaking hands, my skin crawling with the need to wash away any trace of her.
At the sink, I turn the water as hot as I can stand it, squirting a generous amount of soap into my palms. I scrub until my skin turns red, but it doesn't help. The feeling of being used, of being violated, clings to like a second skin.
I splash cold water on my face, trying to erase the evidence of tears. My reflection in the mirror looks haunted, red-rimd eyes staring back at a stranger wearing my face.
After one final deep breath, I force myself to leave the bathroom. Emily's sitting right where I left her, scrolling through her phone.
I watch her face light up when she sees , and sothing inside just... snaps shut. Like a door slamming closed on all the ugliness. I can feel myself compartntalizing in real ti, shoving all that horror and violation into a ntal lockbox and burying it deep beneath layers of denial.
The bathroom incident wasn't real. It never happened.
I force my lips into what I hope resembles a normal smile and make my way to the couch. My body moves chanically, like I'm piloting it from sowhere far away.
"Hey," I say, my voice steadier than I expected as I sink down beside her.
Emily sets her phone aside and imdiately wraps an arm around , pulling close until my head rests against her shoulder. Her familiar scent envelops like a security blanket.
"Rough trip to the bathroom?" she asks, a hint of teasing in her voice as she runs her fingers through my hair.
"Yeah," I manage, grateful for the ready-made excuse. "Just one of those mornings, I guess."
Emily continues stroking my hair, the gentle rhythm almost hypnotic. I focus on her touch, on the warmth of her body against mine, letting it anchor to this mont, to this reality, the only reality that matters.
Her hand suddenly stops its soothing motion. I feel her fingers brush against my neck, right where Holly's mouth had been minutes ago. The shift in Emily's energy is imdiate and palpable, like a room temperature dropping ten degrees in an instant.
"Oh," she says, her voice completely drained of emotion. "Did I accidentally leave a hickey on you last night?"
"I, uh…" I stamr, my hand flying up to cover the spot on my neck. “I didn't even notice."
Emily's fingers gently pry mine away, exposing the mark again. Her touch is feather-light, but there's sothing almost clinical in the way she examines it.
"Strange," she says, that sa emotionless voice sending chills down my spine. "I don't rember doing that."
My throat closes up, panic spreading through like wildfire. I can't think of a single explanation that won't sound like a lie.
"I..." My voice cracks pathetically. "I don't rember either."
Emily's eyes bore into mine, searching for sothing I'm desperately trying to hide. The silence between us stretches like a rubber band pulled to its breaking point.
Then, in an instant, her entire deanor changes. The ice in her expression lts away, replaced by a warm smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"Well, I must have done it," she says lightly, her fingers tracing the mark one last ti before dropping away. "I was quite... enthusiastic last night."
I force a laugh that sounds hollow even to my own ears. “I guess so.”
Emily shifts on the couch, her posture straightening.
"You know," she says, her voice taking on that thoughtful tone."I think tonight would be a great night for a family dinner. Don't you?"
My stomach drops to my feet. A family dinner. With Holly. After what just happened in the bathroom. The thought makes bile rise in my throat.
"Family dinner?" I repeat stupidly, my mind racing for an excuse, any excuse.
Emily nods, that not-quite-right smile still fixed on her face. "Yes. Our last night before we beco husband and wife. We still have to tell Holly.”
I can feel sweat breaking out on my forehead as images from the bathroom flash through my mind. Holly's cruel smile. Her words. Her threat. But looking at Emily's expectant face, I realize I have no choice.
"Yeah," I manage, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. "That sounds great."
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