When Love & Hate Collide [Completed]

Chapter 27 - Living The Darkness

Being back in Fritz Mansion was like reliving my nightmare but after losing my father on the same night, I had wondered what worse could happen now.

Noberto had broken my heart and soul. And then God had snatched away my life from me. The very reason for my existence. My father was everything I had. I no longer had the knowledge of the day or time. I lost track of time and all other elements of life. Losing my father had been the last straw in my utter and complete downfall.

It was dark. And I welcomed it. I thought I was done with life and nothing would affect me anymore. But I was wrong.

That night when Noberto came to my bed, I didn't feel anything at first. I had lost my power to feel, including fear. I wasn't afraid when his hands moved under my clothes to reach out to my nakedness.

He slipped off my shirt and skirt. I let him.

He was breathing heavily when his mouth came on my breasts. He plundered my body with his mouth while his hands pulled off my undergarments. I lay still, holding my lifeless body while trying to keep my brain my blank. But if I had thought I would survive the torture without giving him satisfaction of my reaction I was wrong again.

Before long, the bubble built up in my heart and as his hands reached my core, a painful whisper escaped my lips. "No."

He heard me for his head came up. I couldn't look at his eyes in the darkness but I knew he was looking at my face. I could hear his heavy breathing and feel his manhood pressing against my thighs. I didn't know what he was waiting for. A small hope came alive. May be he would not violate me again. May be he would let me grieve my pain. May be he would let me weep for my father.

But his next words shattered any such hope.

"Let it go," he said before he plunged inside me.

He raped me all night all over again.

He had raped me as my father was dying at my home. He raped me as I wept for my dead father. And he raped all the coming nights.

It became a routine. He fucked me every night. And during the day. He fucked me in the dark and in the light. He fucked me in the studio, in his bedroom, in the kitchen and everywhere else he wanted. Life was one big-never-fucking.

One day he started painting again and asked me to pose for him. Then he fucked me. This became the pattern. All he would do was paint and fuck, starting with either. Sometimes, he would throw his brush and even fuck me in between the painting. His hands would still be covered in paint while he would run them wild all over my body, painting both our bodies into messy colours.

It was as if he was insatiable. It was as if he wanted me every second of every minute of every day and was all set to have it.

One night after the hateful session, when I thought he was done and asleep I went to the shower and stood under. I wanted to rub off his dirty touch off me. But it was useless, nothing would make me forget every detail of the way he fucked me. I wanted to make myself go numb when suddenly the door flew open and he walked in naked.

He had fucked me just ten minutes back and yet he was here. I crowed back into the corner, afraid that he was upset because I left the bed. He came to stand under the shower. Without saying another word he pulled my resisting body into his arms. With water dripping down both our bodies, he had fucked me under the shower.

It was like all other times but something was different. I don't know what but something changed. Water made our bodies slippery and his manhood slip inside me even as I clumsily stood under the shower. He held one of my leg behind the knee and lifted it high enough to make me go on my toes on the other leg. Once I was raised at the height he wanted, he slipped himself inside me. Even though I barely was hanging there, somehow, the penetration wasn't forceful or painful any more.