18: For Your Throat

LILLIAN

I don’t know how long I stayed on the cold floor of the suite, but I couldn’t bring myself to get up from that position because of humiliation.

My body trembled and I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face, mixing with the remnants of his cum still on my lips. I couldn't believe what had just happened and my stomach churned with a mix of disgust and self-loathing.

I wasn’t disgusted because he fucked my mouth, although that was part of it and my throat will definitely be sore for days.

What disgusted me more was the fact that my body enjoyed being used like that, being violated like that.

That made me feel sick… dirty.

I wanted nothing more than to scrub my skin under scorching hot water till I was sure I had washed away every trace of him.

The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on me as the reality of what had happened settled over me like a heavy, oppressive fog.

Xavier.

His name felt like poison on my tongue. I hated him. I hated how he made me feel powerless, how he stripped away every ounce of my dignity. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold in the sobs that threatened to break free.

The sound of the door opening broke through my haze of despair. I looked up to see Xavier standing there, his eyes unreadable, his presence overwhelming the small space. He walked towards me in slow strides.

I couldn’t help but feel like he was mocking me in his head.

"Get away from me," I spat, my voice hoarse from the sobs and the soreness of my throat. “Stay the hell away from me, your asshole,"

He didn't respond, didn't offer any words of comfort or apology. Instead, he simply watched me, his gaze cold and detached, The silence between us was suffocating, filled with unspoken words and unhealed wounds.

Without a word, Xavier turned and left the room.

What a dick! So he just came to see how much damage he did to me?

I exhaled shakily, my body still trembling with the aftermath of my emotions. The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as I remained curled up in a ball, my mind a chaotic swirl of anger and despair.

Five minutes passed and he came back, holding a steaming cup of tea on a saucer. I watched him skeptically as he set it down on the table beside me before meeting my eyes.

“You should drink this,” he said. “For your throat.”

I stared at him like he just grew a second head.

The gesture was unexpected, a stark contrast to the brutality he showed me earlier. But what Xavier doesn’t seem to understand is that a cup of tea cannot erase the pain or the humiliation I was feeling.

I looked at the tea, the steam rising in delicate curls, and felt a fresh wave of anger.

How dare he think a simple cup of tea could fix anything?

"Do you think this changes anything?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. "You think you can just pretend to care now?"

“I am not pretending to care. I don’t care,” he answered, the monotony of his response slapping me right in the face. “If you don’t want to drink it, fine. But it’s going to help with your throat whether you like it or not.”

It was infuriating how nonchalant he was.

I wanted to scream at him, to make him feel a fraction of the pain he had caused me. But I was too exhausted, too drained to do anything but sit there and glare at him.

Xavier finally turned and left the room again to God knows where, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I stared at the cup of tea, the anger slowly giving way to a crushing sense of hopelessness.

I knew I should drink it, that it might help soothe my sore throat, but the thought of accepting anything from him made me sick,

But I had no choice.

I stayed on the floor for what felt like an eternity, my mind replaying the events of the night over and over again. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, felt his hands on me, heard his voice commanding me to submit.

It was a nightmare I couldn't escape.

Eventually, I picked up the cup of tea with trembling hands and took a sip. It won’t only soothe my jaw, but it will also wash the taste of him away because I could still taste him. The warmth soothed my throat and washed him down, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside me.

I finished the tea, the last sip going down smoothly. It didn't fix anything, but it was a small comfort in the midst of my pain.

Then, I forced myself to stand. My body protested every movement, aching with a dull, persistent pain. I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the shower, the sound of the water a small comfort in this oppressive silence.

The hot water hit my skin, and I shivered, the sensation both soothing and painful. I scrubbed my skin until it was red and raw, trying to wash away the memories of his touch. But no matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn't rid myself of the feeling of violation, the sense of being tainted.

And the thought of my body enjoying it.

Xavier had done something tonight, something no one has ever done to me, something men have only tried and failed to do to me. He had stripped every ounce of power I thought I still had, my sense of self.

And I hated him for it, hated the way he made me feel powerless and small.

I have never felt powerless and small until him and it irritated me!

When I finally stepped out of the shower, my skin was raw and sensitive, but I felt a small measure of relief.

Xavier entered the room again, his expression unchanged. He stood at the foot of the bed, looking at me with that same cold detachment.

“We need to set some rules on this trip," he said, his tone flat and final.

“Your message has been gotten, loud and clear Xavier,” I responded, not being able to bring myself to argue or fight with him right now.

If he was shocked at the fact that I didn’t fight him, he didn’t show it.

“Good,” he folded his hands across his chest. “Because I won’t be responsible for what happens if you defile me again. What just happened,” he pointed to the corner where he just fucked my mouth. “Is nothing compared to what I’ll do to you again,”

“Message received,” I flashed him a faux smile.

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken threats and unresolved anger. I could feel the tension crackling between us, an evident force that seemed to fill the room.

When Xavier saw that he wasn’t getting more than that, he turned and left without another word, leaving me to fume in silence.

I lay back on the bed, my mind racing. The thought of being under his control was unbearable. But what choice did I have? He had made it clear that he was more than willing to show me who was boss.

As I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, I made a silent vow to myself. I would find a way out of this, I would find a way to regain my freedom, to escape Xavier's grasp.

No matter what it took.