She woke to bound arms and splayed legs. A calloused hand wrapped around her throat the moment her eyes popped open, applying pressure that kept her in place when she would’ve struggled.
The textured ceiling stared back at her, whirling for a moment before she squeezed her eyes shut. Fear turned into a snake in the pit of her stomach that slithered up to wrap around her lungs and suffocate her.
A rough hand trailed up her thigh, giving her hip a pinch when it reached that far. A tremble coursed through her when something parted her lower lips. It pushed deep, deeper, ignoring the way her body tried to deny it entry. The drag of it, the way it filled her up, was steady and unyielding. She opened her mouth to cry out, but the hand at her throat tightened to cut off any sound she may have made.
She tugged frantically at the rope binding her arms, desperate for breath and distance from the invasion of her body. If she could just inch back, if she could just find a little give…
As he withdrew and then surged back in with bruising strength, she realized that only thing giving is her.