Unjust Reward - Chapter 2
Part 1 here
I said it yesterday, and I'll say it again: this is dark, bad, terrible. If you are not ready and wanting to read non-con, DO NOT READ THIS.
That said, this was a disturbing amount of fun to write. Evil!Terry ftw.
TW: Violence, sexual assault, rape, non-con, graphic sex, dirty talk, gaslighting.
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“Guess you shoulda listened to Danny-Boy, huh?” Terry says, slowly circling you like a snake coiling around its prey. You turn your head, trying to keep your eyes on him, but you can’t bring yourself to move.
“What are you talking about?”
“Please don’t go see him again, Y/N! He’s not good for you; he’s not good for anyone!” he mocks in a high voice, cackling at his impression of Daniel.
But Daniel had said those exact words to you a few days ago in the park. You thought you had been alone.
He had been there? Had he been the source of that snapping branch that you’d pulled Danny away from?
“You were there?” you ask him with horror, staring at the ground. You feel dizzy; you feel sick.
He gives you a wide smile, as though he had told you wonderful news.
“I should be thanking you. LaRusso may be a naïve little shit, but he probably would’ve found me if you hadn’t pulled him back…”
Your knees go weak, and you sink to the ground.
“I’ve been asking myself what I would have done if LaRusso had spotted me the other day,” Terry continues casually, squatting down across from you, his weight on the balls of his feet like he was prepared to pounce.
“I think I would’ve snatched you up then, Danny-Boy be damned. I’ve thought about this for so long. You’ve been keeping me up at night; I just can’t get the thought of making you mine out of my head.”
You whimper in fear at this confession, and you swear you see his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate in response to the sound.
“I had hoped that having you once would be enough to get you out of my system, but having you here now… I’m not so sure.”
He slides forward suddenly, halving the distance between you, and you scurry backwards on your palms before shakily forcing yourself to your feet.
“Terry, don’t do this, please,” you sob, your focus torn between looking for a way out and never taking your eyes off of him. You’ve never been so scared before in your entire life. “Please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this, I promise.”
Terry slowly gets to his feet, still managing to tower over you from twenty feet away, and gives you a soft, pitying smile.
“You won’t tell anyone about this regardless,” he says with confidence, not at all worried that there may be repercussions for keeping you here against your will, threatening – no, promising to force himself on you if you didn’t offer yourself to him freely.
“Do you know why you came here, sweetheart? Even though you know better?” he coos, slowly approaching you like you were a bird about to fly away; you wish more than anything that you were. Instead, you back away from him until your back hits a cold, smooth wall. You groan, a noise of pure terror escaping you, and you see Terry lick his lips as he closes in on you.
“Because you need me. You can’t stay away, no matter how hard you try to play the innocent, good girl next door.”
He holds you in a cruel imitation of a hug, trapping you in his arms and pinning yours to your sides. You feel him bury his nose in your hair, and he inhales deeply, letting out a deep, primal groan that makes you shudder violently against him.
“I told you before – I’ve seen how you look at me. You’re so overwhelmed by your want, even though you do your best to hide it, to deny it. But I see it, doll. I see everything.”
“No, I don’t –” you try to deny him, but he silences you, pushing your head into his chest. You want to bite him, hurt him and get away, but it might just set him off and make him even more depraved at this point.
“I know, I know. You want to keep playing the sweet, innocent virgin forever, and make me get my hands dirty. That’s alright with me,” he says, pressing his body more firmly against yours and crushing you between himself and the wall. “In fact, I’m thrilled about it. Gifts can be nice, but I much prefer taking what I want.”
“But you saved me!” you protest, unable to reconcile this monster with the man that had saved you, the man you had been so drawn to. He leans away at your words to look down at you, a broad smile on his face.
“I did save you,” he agrees, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “…for myself.”
From somewhere deep within you, an angry, appalled scream bursts out of you, and you somehow manage to swing both your hands together, sending a punch right to his gut that sends him stumbling back. Turning, you run back into the office, forcing a chair underneath the doorknob. You’re not sure how long it’ll hold for, but hopefully it’s long enough for you to break the window and escape.
You drop to the ground, frantically looking for something heavy enough to throw through the glass, your heart beating a mile a minute as you hear him running to the door, throwing his weight against it with a loud bang. You find a set of dumbbells in a corner under the bed and grab one, rushing over to the window. Taking one end in both hands, you swing back, preparing to throw it through the window. You’ll probably only get one shot at this…
There’s a horrible crash behind you, and you’re knocked to the ground by the chair, pieces of the door – he had smashed right through it – and Terry himself. You cry out in pain as everything lands on top of you, but it may as well be a whisper compared to the shriek of terror you let out when Terry’s hand tangles in your hair, roughly pulling you to your feet.
“Let go of me!” you scream, your body seeming to finally lean in to the ‘Fight’ response. You swing your knee up as hard as you can, hoping to hit him in the balls and incapacitate him long enough for you to get away, but he clamps his thighs together hard around your leg, catching it in mid-swing. You let out a wail of pain as he squeezes your leg with both of his own, bending you back with a tug of your hair as you struggle to keep your balance on one leg.
“You may have been able to fight back against those pricks out there, but do you really think you stand a chance against me?” he pants, looking down at you in your awkward, trapped position. He brings your head closer to him, using his grip on your hair to tilt your head back and expose your throat. He licks a possessive trail up the side of your neck that makes you cry out in disgust, then takes your ear into his mouth and bites it just hard enough to sting. You whine, your eyes filling with tears.
“Are you ready to be a good girl for me again?” he asks, his voice husky in your ear, breath hot on your neck and making you squirm. He chuckles darkly against your skin as you react to him. “Though I have to say, I do like this fiery side of you. She should come out to play more often.”
With an inhuman screech you move to hit him in the side, but this time he expects it, turning his body to the side to dodge, the momentum of your swing sending you tumbling onto the bed as he releases your leg, shoving you to the mattress. Before you can get your bearings, he’s on top of you, his massive body pressing insistently against yours. You thrash underneath him, but he’s got you pinned, and as you feel him grinding his erection against you, you realize that you’re only egging him on.
“Fuck, you feel so good like this,” Terry groans in your ear, confirming your theory. “Trying so desperately to get away from me, Y/N, and for what? You know you can’t escape me.”
His words seem to suck the energy right out of you, and you go limp and still beneath him. He was right, wasn’t he? Trying to fight back or escape was only going to give him reason to hurt you more.
“Oh, is that it now? Do you give up?” he asks, pressing you into the mattress with his body as he leans down to whisper the mocking words in your ear. “Pathetic.”
“Terry, please,” you try begging him again, knowing it was the only option you have left. With your head turned to the side, you can see his silhouette in your peripheral vision, and try to look up at him with a pleading expression. “Please stop hurting me. This isn’t you, I know it’s not!”
All you had to do was appeal to a shred of humanity that lurked somewhere inside him, and then you’d have a chance…
“You’re right.”
You freeze at the words. Had you really gotten through to him that easily?
Slowly, he sits back, pulling you up with him until you’re both in kneeling positions. You hold your breath, your eyes clenched shut, trying not to tremble.
“I should stop hurting you,” he croons, and you feel his arms come around you in something resembling a hug. “Let’s start making you feel good.”
He grabs the hem of your shirt with both hands, trying to pull it over your head, and you instinctively fight him, throwing your head back and colliding it with his chin, hard. The impact stuns you and you slump forward, dazed and unable to move or speak.
Faintly, you feel Terry slowly, almost tenderly removing your clothes, taking advantage of your immobility.
“I don’t like you hurting, babygirl,” he coos down at you as he works your shorts and underwear down your legs. “Try to just relax and let yourself feel good.”
“Terry… no…” you groan, slowly regaining the ability to speak. You taste blood on your tongue. He clucks his tongue at you disparagingly, tugging your shirt off and quickly divesting you of your bra, leaving you naked beneath him.
“So gorgeous,” he breathes, ignoring your protests as he strokes your skin possessively. “A few bruises here and there, but nothing too bad. I hope you don’t earn any more, don’t you sweetheart?”
You don’t respond, and Terry presses his thumb down firmly on one of the large bruises on your thigh, making a hiss of pain push past your lips. “Don’t you, Y/N?” he growls, gradually increasing the pressure of his thumb.
“Yes, yes!” you cry out desperately, gasping in relief when he removes his thumb.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asks innocently, stroking your hair gently as he gazes down on your crumpled form beneath him. You shy away from his hand reflexively, and he sighs, clenching his jaw as he quickly flips you onto your back, pinning your hands against the mattress when you try to cover your chest.
“I can make this so good for you, Y/N,” he purrs, leaning down to kiss your cheek in a weak parody of affection. “Let all this resistance go, and I’ll have you begging for more,” he coaxes, stroking your wrists with his thumbs. His eyes follow the path of the few tears that leak out from the corners of your closed eyes, and he wonders what they taste like. “Whaddaya say, doll?”
“No,” you tell him firmly, your eyes blazing as they open again and lock onto his. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”
Terry’s eyes lose the sparkle of amusement they’ve had the whole time he’s been tormenting you, darkening to a flat black, and you know you’ve said the wrong thing. His lip curls as he lets out an animalistic snarl, and he reels back, slapping you hard, his large hand managing to strike the entire side of your face, including the bandage he had gently applied not even an hour ago.
You cry out, your head whipping to the side, but you’re unable to lift a hand to your cheek before his hands roughly flip you over onto your stomach. He pins you down with a knee on your lower back, and you hear the sound of his belt as he takes off his clothes. He shifts down, keeping you still with an elbow digging into your back now, his free hand reaching down to pull off his pants, refusing to give you even a second to try to escape. Your cries ring out loudly in the room despite being muffled, your face buried in the blankets as you sob.
Terry slides back and off of you, pulling your hips with him so that you’re on your knees before him, the rest of you still slumped onto the mattress. He squeezes the flesh of your hips hard, making you whimper, and you feel his bare, hard cock grind against your entrance. You try to lurch away, but he holds fast to your hips, digging his nails into your skin.
“I’m torn, Y/N,” he tells you, kneading your ass as he talks to you casually. “Torn between fucking you hard and rough until you’re begging for mercy, or making you come until you’re begging for more.” You shudder beneath him, and he lets out a harsh laugh.
“Yeah, you’d hate yourself for coming on my cock, wouldn’t you?” he taunts, sliding his cock against your folds. You arch your back, trying to shy away from the contact, and he lets you. You hear him spit and let out a grunt of pleasure, and when he presses his cock against you again, it’s wet with his saliva, and you shiver at the implication of what that means for you. “You know what? I can have both.”
He kneels on the soles of your feet, preventing you from escaping, and you feel him spread you open with his large hands.
“Such a pretty pussy, baby,” he hums approvingly, and your fists clench the blankets more tightly, humiliated and terrified. “And all for me.” He spits directly onto your entrance, making you feel filthy, one of his large fingers forcing its way inside you.
“Fuck me, you’re tight,” he growls through gritted teeth, pumping his finger in and out of you. “My cock’s gonna break you, sweetheart.” You can hear the patronizing pout in his voice, but are too scared about his words to care; him mocking you was the least of your worries.
“But you’re gonna take it all for me, babygirl. Just like you were meant to.”
He withdraws his finger from inside you, bringing his hand around to your face, holding out two fingers.
“Suck my fingers, baby; get them nice and wet. And if your teeth go anywhere near them, I’ll pull them out, one by one,” he warns, and you let out an audible gasp at the threat. Terry takes the opportunity to shove his fingers into your mouth, pumping them in and out and triggering your gag reflex a few times. You try to keep still, crying softly, and after a minute or so, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, immediately sliding them back into your pussy, stretching you out.
“You’re so hot when you obey me,” Terry groans, the pace of his fingers increasing. “I knew you could be a good girl for me, Y/N. You know what good girls get?” he asks, letting out a hum of approval when you immediately shake your head. It wasn’t as good as you answering him with your words, but it was a step in the right direction. “They get rewarded.”
He presses his fingers against a certain spot inside you that makes you buck your hips and cry out in surprise. He chuckles lowly at your reaction, and you feel your cheeks burn with shame.
“You like that, baby? Did that feel good?” he asks you in a rough, teasing voice, and again you shake your head. “No? Your pretty pussy is telling me different, doll.” Sure enough, his fingers move inside you more easily. You’re getting wet, you realize with horror.
“No!” you cry, repeating the word as you sob. You don’t want this.
“I’ll prove it to you, baby; I’ll make you come before I make you mine; how’s that?” Terry says, his tone soothing but his words having the opposite effect. He turns you onto your back like a ragdoll; you’re too tired and scared to fight. You know that if you do anything that makes him feel anything close to pain that he won’t hesitate to give it back to you tenfold, and you’re already pretty beaten up.
Terry crawls up on top of you, and before you can turn your head away he’s caught your lips with his own, his hands running up and down your sides possessively. You squirm against him, trying not to move your mouth in any way that could be considered kissing him back, ignoring the way his tongue tries to coax yours to tangle with his.
Not at all deterred by your lack of response, he lets you turn your head to the side, laving kisses up and down your neck, his hands coming up to massage your breasts. He lets out a groan of pleasure as he caresses your breasts, kneading them gently; you bite your tongue, forcing yourself to remain unmoved.
“Your skin is so soft, Y/N,” he moans against your neck as you fight to keep still. In one fluid motion, he rolls both of your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, and you can’t help the whine that escapes you, even as you bite your bottom lip to try to keep it from getting out. You feel Terry grin against your neck, and hate yourself with every fibre of your being.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos encouragingly in your ear. “Let me make you feel good. You know I’m going to have you either way; you may as well enjoy it.”
“I don’t want to enjoy this!” you scream at him in frustration, your tears flowing freely now. He kisses them as they fall, savouring your taste, and you whimper at the sensation.
“Why?” he asks calmly, utterly unfazed by your screaming and crying. “What are you afraid of, someone finding out that you like this? I won’t tell if you won’t,” he promises coyly. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Y/N. I don’t want to hurt you more–”
“Then let me go!” you shriek, hiccupping through your sobs.
“No.”
One of his hands comes around your throat, squeezing gently in warning, and you immediately fall silent and still.
“This is happening, Y/N,” he tells you bluntly but not cruelly. “I’m making you mine tonight.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, as though he was discussing the weather and not whether or not you would be complicit in your own assault. “I’ll stop trying to make it good for you if you’re just going to fight me on it, but it’s going to make things a lot more painful for you. Is that what you want?” Terry looks straight into your eyes as he asks the question, like he’s trying to search your soul for the answer.
You take a deep, shaky breath, closing your eyes, and for once this evening Terry seems amenable to giving you a moment to yourself.
Was this even something you were capable of? Enjoying him forcing himself on you, or at least not fighting back? How could you live with yourself if you just let this happen? You would hate yourself everyday…
But at the same time, Terry was giving you the option to get through tonight without hurting you. Maybe that would be worth it, for both your body and your psyche. Before learning the truth about him, you had been attracted to him, interested in him… was there any part of that desire still within you after all this that you could cling to, just to get you through the night?
You open your eyes, forcing yourself to look at him, taking in his naked body for the first time. As your eyes roam over the pale flesh of his chest, you try to only think about the memories from before, the things he had done to make you feel like you had butterflies in your stomach.
After taking a moment to look at all of him – your face flushing despite yourself as you take in the sight of his large, hard member – you manage to bring your eyes up to his face without flinching or looking away. You try not to feel too proud of yourself for your newfound ability to dissociate.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?” he asks, and you bite your lip. You should’ve known that he wouldn’t make this easy on you.
“I… I’ll stop r-resisting you.” You force the words out, trying to keep your breathing somewhat regular.
“You will?” he asks, sounding slightly surprised.
“You promise you won’t hurt me?” the question comes out weak and shaky. You don’t know why you’re trying to elicit a promise from him; the man was a psychopath that couldn’t be trusted for even a second.
“I can’t promise that it won’t hurt when I’m first inside you, but as long as you don’t give me a reason to, I won’t hurt you, Y/N.” Well, at least he had been upfront about something tonight.
“Then okay,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about what you’re saying. “I’ll try to relax.”
“Relax and enjoy, beautiful,” Terry croons, his arms coming around your waist as he slowly lowers you onto your back. You don’t resist, focusing on the parts of him that don’t make you want to recoil from his touch. His body comes on top of yours, skin-on-skin, but this time he holds his weight off of you instead of trapping you against the mattress.
“Want you so bad, babygirl,” he moans against your skin, laying kisses all over your neck and across your collarbone. “Wanted you for so long.”
Against your better judgement, you slowly raise your hands to wrap them around his neck, trailing them up to his ponytail. You grip it in one hand, causing him to pause and look down at you, his blue eyes flashing a warning, but you force yourself to maintain his gaze, calmly releasing his hair from the ponytail, running your fingers through it slowly.
It helped him look like somebody else.
A pleased rumble emanates from Terry’s chest and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your chest. He eagerly moves down your body, his hands and lips never leaving your skin as he slowly slides down to your chest. For some reason, you don’t feel self-conscious; you suppose you’re far past that point now.
He gently takes your breasts in his hands, his rough palms rubbing your nipples, and you feel them getting hard from the attention. He slowly rolls your breasts in circles, the motion surprisingly sending a warm tingling sensation low down in your belly, and you buck your hips ever-so-slightly upwards at the feeling.
Terry purrs, catching the movement; he never missed anything. Pleased, he lowers his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, lightly teasing the sensitive bud with his tongue as his fingers toy with the other.
You let out a muffled whimper that you hide behind a hand, the other clutching the blanket beneath you. Terry releases you from his mouth, pausing his ministrations to look up at you from under his eyelashes with a lustful expression.
“Don’t hide from me, doll. Let me hear how good I make you feel,” he implores you, maintaining eye contact as he drags his tongue from the bottom of your breast to the top, laving directly over your nipple. You moan, forcing your hand away from your mouth to mirror your other, clutching the sheets with both fists now, and feel Terry grin as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Sliding back up your body somewhat to watch your face, he uses his fingers to tease your nipples until you can’t help but arch up against him.
“You have such perfect, perky tits,” he whispers obscenely, taking in the way you squirm and turn red at his dirty talk with a wicked grin. “And you’re still so innocent, even for a virgin. Such a sweet, pure, good girl, aren’t you Y/N?” he asks, and you nod reluctantly, hoping desperately that he’s not going to make you say it.
No such luck.
“I want you to say it, sweetheart,” he says, watching you bite your lip with hesitation. He leans in and you flinch, worried he’s going to hurt you. Instead, he moves to speak in your ear, his fingers never ceasing to play with your breasts.
“Say it, Y/N; I bet it’ll make you wet for me.” He lightly pinches both your nipples as he whispers to you, and you cry out, feeling a throbbing in your clit.
“I’m a good girl!” you moan out shamelessly, and he tweaks your nipples again as you give in, causing another wave of arousal to wash over you.
“Mmm, yes you are,” he agrees, humming approvingly, his eyes dark with lust. He trails one hand down your body between your legs, and you tense slightly. He targets a sensitive spot on your collarbone, giving it a hot, open-mouthed kiss and sucking on the flesh there, making you relax and leaving a love bite on your skin. He runs a long finger along your slit, and while you’re still feeling tender from him roughly entering you earlier, you feel your entrance slick with your juices.
“So wet for me, aren’t you babygirl?” he asks, and this time you don’t need any instructions as his finger lightly flits across your clit.
“Yes!” you cry out, rolling your hips against his hand. “I’m so wet!”
“Good girl,” he hisses, thrilled by your response, and rewards you by slipping a finger inside of you, rubbing your clit with his thumb in a way that has you going weak in the knees. “Who made your pussy wet? Tell me.”
“Unh…oh, fuck!” you cry out as he angles his finger, hitting your G-spot again. “You did, Terry! I’m wet for you,” you moan wantonly, your face burning with humiliation. He makes that pleased rumbling in his chest again, and the sound makes your toes curl. He slips in a second finger with ease, pumping them in and out, and you’re mortified at the wet sounds he’s dragging out of your body.
“Damn right you’re wet for me,” he growls, sitting up now so he can watch how your whole body responds to him, his eyes feverishly bright. “This is mine,” he purrs, suddenly adding a third finger to your cunt that has you keening as you arch off the bed. “Gonna make this pretty pussy come and then I’m gonna make it mine,” he groans, and your eyes roll back in your head at his dirty talk. Why did someone who could make you feel like this have to be such a monster?
Terry quickens the pace of his fingers, pulling you away from that train of thought, and starts curling them against the spot that makes you see stars with every stroke, making you mewl desperately as he works you closer and closer to an orgasm.
“Come for me, Y/N,” he demands, rubbing your clit steadily even as he keeps his fingers thrusting inside your pussy, and it isn’t long before you come hard with a scream, your legs clamping down on Terry’s hand and trapping it there. He leans down, kissing you deeply, and this time you find yourself kissing him back. This clearly pleases him, and he groans into your mouth, running his hands lightly up and down your body.
“You’re gorgeous when you come apart for me.”
You blush furiously at the compliment, still feeling embarrassed and trying to stay in this safe headspace you had created for yourself.
Terry widens his stance on his knees, spreading your legs wider to either side of him, and reaches down, coating his fingers in your juices and stroking his cock as he looks down at you spread out beneath him. You immediately start trembling, trying to calm yourself down. Terry’s hands return to your sides, stroking them soothingly and helping you relax again.
You feel his erection prodding your entrance, and instinctively reach up for him as you tense up. He takes in your gesture with dark eyes, before taking the base of his cock in one hand, steadying it while pushing just the head inside you before lowering the rest of his body to be closer to you, giving you the comfort you’re craving.
“I’ve got you, doll,” he murmurs, his forehead pressed against yours, and you make a noncommittal noise, digging your nails into his back as you grip his shoulders. He hisses, thrusting himself slightly deeper inside of you reflexively. “Gonna take you, gotta make you mine,” he whispers huskily, and you’re not sure whether he’s talking to you or himself.
Without drawing it out, Terry thrusts his hips forward, filling you in one motion before stilling inside of you. You let out a soft cry as he stretches you, but it’s not nearly as bad as you had been anticipating. He peppers your face with kisses, cooing words of encouragement and comfort that have you melting against him, rocking your hips experimentally.
“That’s it,” he hisses in pleasure. “There’s my good girl, Y/N.”
He pulls back before surging forward again, immediately setting a hard and fast pace. There’s some pleasure to it, but your body isn’t used to this new and unfamiliar exercise, and it starts to feel like he’s bruising you from the inside out.
“Terry, please! Not so hard!” you whimper, but he doesn’t change his pace, thrusting into you as deep as he can get, his hands coming down to grip your bruised hips tightly.
“Relax, doll,” he says, his lip curling in a grimace as he loses himself in pleasure. “Time for me to get what I want.”
You shudder, tears coming to your eyes at the rough treatment, and your protective shield of ignorance shatters as you come face-to-face with the reality of your situation. You cry quietly as he snaps his hips against yours, chasing his own release, hoping that you won’t set him off again with your tears.
After a few minutes of him fucking you into the mattress, he slides a hand up your body, wrapping it around your throat once again.
“Say my name,” he demands in a rough voice, squeezing your neck lightly in warning.
“Terry!” you squeal in pain and terror, and with his eyes clenched shut, he seems to mistake it for a pleasured moan of his name.
Growling his approval, licks a sloppy path up the bruised side of your face, making you whimper.
“Say it again; don’t stop until I fill you up.”
You force his name from your lips as many times as you can, uncaring of how they sound. You feel strangely numb as he ruts into you like an animal, and are only brought back to earth when he comes inside you, the feeling strange and unpleasant. He moans your name with his release.
“Y/N… my girl.”
He collapses to the side of you to avoid crushing you, the tiny cot somehow big enough to fit you both and support your weight, though you’re still trapped beneath an arm and a leg. You try not to cry, waiting until Terry starts to snore before you slowly worm your way out from underneath him, crawling to the bottom of the bed to climb off, find your clothes and get the fuck out of there. You feel yourself leaking Terry’s come down your thighs, and the sensation almost has you vomiting.
A large hand closes around your ankle as you try to clamber off the bed, and you yelp in surprise.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Getting dressed. Going home?” you ask hopefully, and he laughs at the tone of your voice, pulling you back onto the bed with ease and trapping you in his arms.
“You can’t go out with your face looking like that,” he states, as though it were obvious. “People will ask too many questions. You’ll be staying with me until you’re all better.”
You wrap your arms around yourself in a hug, trying to ignore the feel of Terry’s doing the same to you.
“But, but I thought that once you… once we…” you stammer, and he laughs through a carefree yawn.
“I told you that having you once might not be enough for me,” he reminds you, shrugging before nuzzling into your hair, and you whimper, stiffening against him. Did he really just expect you to play house with him after everything that happened tonight?
“Don’t make this difficult, sweetheart,” he purrs sleepily, his arm tightening around your waist. “Even if you manage to get away from me, you can’t get out of here without a key to the door. I don’t want to have to tie you down just to get some sleep.”
You slump bonelessly in his arms, scowling. He was right, and you were too tired and sore to do anything about it.
“Good girl,” he coos in your ear, stroking your body as he feels you give up. “I’ll take you to my doctor tomorrow to get you patched up. This pretty face shouldn’t be all banged up,” he says, laying a sloppy kiss on your cheek, one hand coming up under your chin to hold your head steady. Your only form of protest is the silent tears pouring down your face.
“Try not to give me a reason to make it look like this again.”
