His wet lips press hard against her supple skin, causing the rough hairs of his beard to scratch against her delicate flesh. As he moans into her, she can feel his breath hot against her throat, silencing her before her mind even has time to consider crying out in protest.

In the darkness his nimble fingers already unclasped the fabric covered buttons that shielded her from the cold breeze that had been blowing through the room for years.

Not since before the meteor shower had she felt loved by him, her mere presence seeming now to be the point of his displeasure in what his family had become; she being the one that bore the son whose infirmity weakened his powerful name.

As his callous hand paws at her like a piece of meat, she feels like less than a person, less than alive. Like a lion cornering his prey, he seized his moment, devouring her flesh like a mighty cat would do a lamb, leaving her an innocent victim to his every whim.

Thankfully she has been spared of his carnal desires as of late, knowing he was finding pleasure on every continent, scarcely coming home to face the pair of eyes that would always be able to see the real him.

Every thought and noise around her silenced by his growling breath, she can only hear the sounds of her own heart pounding against her eardrums as the threads of her silk nightgown are torn apart by his ravaging hands.

Digging her fingers deep into the sheets beneath her, she tries to imagine herself out of this moment, out from under the weight of his body, away from his hardness that eagerly presses against her.

She can't breathe out the word filling her mind, knowing she's defenseless against the man to whom she's bound.

Well aware he would snuff out her existence should she not honor his every demand, she does not risk him inflicting judgment onto her son by not giving into his desires.

As her dark locks drown the pillow, he tangles his fingers within them, wrapping the hair around his fist as his teeth bite hard against her breast, nearly drawing blood as his actions summon tears from her heartbroken eyes.

Turning her face away from him, biting her lip against the pain, she focuses on the white roses in the vase by the bed, the pure blooms picked by her son's hand to grace the sad room with a breath of life, his innocent eyes already having seen enough to fully understand his mother's pain.

Closing her eyes, she tries to think of him, her Alexander, the only thing her heart continues to beat for. This child to whom she gave life, she would gladly give her own life for, proving as much in this instant.

"Please," she lets slip out of her lips, wanting her captor to do the one simple thing she fears he's not capable of.

Of all the pleas filling her mind, none are for her self, above all needing him to love her child, their child, the one that seems to bring him so much shame.

Her soft word and gentle request seeming to fuel his desire to dominate her, he suddenly clamps his hands down on her wrists, chaining her to the bed in which she is enslaved.

His powerful knees parting her thighs, she feels ripped apart, exposed and violated before he's even entered her.

Praying the world will end, the pain will stop, and she will disappear, she lets her tears soak the pillow, trying with all she has in her to free herself from his grip.

With her eyelids tightly closed, she can feel him briefly release his hold on her hand to push his thickness deep within her, her muscles losing the battle against his as he penetrates her delicate flesh. Disregarding her discomfort, he returns his hand to her wrist, holding her down as he roughly takes her, every dry thrust feeling as though he's tearing her within.

Disbelieving this act ever brought her pleasure, she digs her nails into the back of his hands, igniting fire behind his cold stare as she tries to fight against him, flooding his ears with the sounds of her cries as over and over again he violates her.

Her body feeling raw from his continuous thrusts, she shivers with the feel of his sweat on her skin, his hot mouth drawing breath straight from her lungs.

With every stroke she feels herself die, his liquored breath proving her agony will be prolonged, his drunken condition stretching this violation out far beyond her endurance.

Laying broken against the sheets she prays he will soon finish, her body continuing to accept its punishment, all the while feeling this torture is happening to someone else.

Suddenly possessed with the desire to break her, he grabs her throat, pumping hard into her as he reaches his peak. His tight grip robbing her of her life's breath, she claws at his flesh, fearing the blackness looming about will soon consume her.

Just at the brink of unconsciousness, when she's ready to succumb to the fight, he snatches her back, his powerful hand freeing her, leaving her gasping as he falls breathless on top of her, spilling his hot cum deep within.

X x X x X x

Unable to look herself in the mirror, she pulls herself into the shower, letting the hot water drown her with heat equal to the hate raging within her.

Hoping every ounce of him will run out of her, she stands over the drain, knowing all too well the damage had been done. What he seeks, he finds, and somehow he knew just when to strike in her cycle to secure the creation of his heir.

Sliding the soap over her skin, she longs to rip the flesh from her bones, needing to be free of this life in which she has found herself.

Desperate to find an escape, her wide eyes lock on the straight razor in the corner, the sharp edge whispering to her, longing to glide against her skin until all of her pain drains away.

Clutching the cold metal in her hand, she can visualize the cut, can feel the warm blood flood out of her veins, staining the white tile crimson. The image slowly dominating her mind suddenly makes her fear how far he has pushed her, a victory she will not let him have.

Throwing the razor to the ground, she doubles over, her stomach rising within her to expel it's contents to her feet, the very thought of leaving her child alone in the world with the monster sobering her back to sanity.

Sliding down the slick wall, she crumples to the ground, the water beating against her as she drowns herself in tears, promising herself to think tomorrow about the beast growing within.

X x X x X x

Her small feet take the walk to his bedroom, leaving wet prints as she goes, her long hair dripping droplets of water on the hard wooden floors.

Holding herself tightly within her thick robe, she cracks open the door, allowing a sliver of light to penetrate the darkness in his room.

Tiptoeing softly up to his bed, she cannot stop her tears from falling, the very essence of his being able to invoke her most passionate emotions. For as long as she might live, she would never be able to understand how he that could chain her within the most horrible nightmares, could also give her the most beautiful dream come true: Her love. Her life. Her son.

"Lex," she says quietly, barely cutting the silence with her tone.

Her gentle call goes unanswered, the beauty of his dreams continuing to enrapture him; a gift his mother is grateful for.

A rare smile sweeps across her face before her finger takes the kiss lingering on her lips, the small gift she longs to deliver to her sleeping son.

Pressing her fingertip softly against his lips, she quietly whispers "I love you," saying so much more inside her heart.

Unable to pull herself away from him, needing a moment of peace herself, she climbs into his bed, cradling his form with her own. As he readjusts against her, his soft breath warms her cheek, allowing her eyes to finally close on the night and somehow find tomorrow.