Her heart sank to know that the time for remorse and begging had come and gone. A pang of regret slammed into her as he nudged her trembling legs, parting them to align his hips with hers. Her skin crawled as he leaned over her, and though his breath was warm against her ear his words were chilling. To the bone she was frozen, paralyzed by fear. The eve before her wedding day—a day meant to be the one of the happiest in her life—she was going to be taken brutally. Over the booming sound of her heartbeat in her ears she could hear his palm gliding over his shaft, a fleshy and rhythmic noise that barely penetrated the pounding pulse. “Please, don’t.” She whispered, trying to plead with him one last time. The tear in voice made it apparent that her resolve was fracturing with each passing second. Her squirming ceased and the rigidness of her prone body had lessened with the realization that she was about to be violated. In her darkest moments, the ones where she laid awake at night wondering if her captors would return to kill her or take her away, she always took solace in the fact that they<i>hadn’t</i>abused her sexually—and likely wouldn’t. Their motivation had been money and respect, nothing more.<br/><br/>This time was patently different.<br/><br/>Her abduction had been planned, not some crime of opportunity. The men who took her years ago were emotional and disorganized, but the man behind her now was cold and collected, like ice water coursed through his veins. He felt nothing as he pressed into her, parting her delicate pink petals to shove his long, girthy manhood into her tight hole. Though she was significantly less rigid before, she was most certainly tense now. Fear made her cling to him despite the absence of lubrication, even when it felt as though he was going to tear her apart inside. Clara whimpered, a pitiful noise that seemed to echo in the empty nightclub. It was the knowledge that there were other eyes on her that made her press her lips together to stifle the pathetic sounds that would fall from her mouth. There was only the clap of his hips against her plush cheeks, rippling and jiggling enticingly with every powerful thrust. On occasion she sucked in a sharp breath, or let out an uncontrollable whine at the pain. The friction was borderline unbearable, and already she was sore and tender between her legs.<br/><br/>Clara closed her eyes at his mention of Andreas. It was manipulative, and it was clear that he preyed on her humiliation and her need to preserve her image in her fiancé’s eyes. For now it suited her to be compliant, but she could hardly contain the overwhelming emotions that threaten to turn her deep breaths, the gasps and the hitching, into sobs. It didn’t help that the man was relentless behind her. His hips crashed into hers repeatedly and mercilessly, allowing her no respite. She attempted to go somewhere else in her mind, think of anything else other than the thick length that was ramming in and out of her achy tunnel. Each ruthless thrust brought her back in the moment. Clara could only hope that it was over soon.