CW: assault, Erwin Smith

Petra stood against the balcony's railing and looked out to sea, rubbing her thumb against the uncomfortable gold band on her left ring finger. She'd only been wearing it the last three hours, since the little ceremony up in the crumbling chapel higher in the hills. She'd never seen the Italian southern coast before—hell, she'd never seen Italy until yesterday morning, when Erwin and his people had taken her from her father's house and driven her down here. She'd known it was coming and had resolved not to cry. She'd been good all throughout the wedding ceremony, but now that she was here she couldn't control herself much longer.

They'd come down from the chapel with only a few of Erwin's men as witnesses, and now her husband had left her in their hotel room. They were in Ravello, a picturesque resort town on the Amalfi coast. Far ahead, Petra glimpsed the blue of the Mediterranean, a sight she'd always dreamed of seeing. The hotel where she was to spend her first hours as Mrs. Smith was nestled against the cliffside, the narrow and winding brick pathways leading from one stuccoed bungalow to the next. The balcony was tiled, and fragrant lemon trees shielded Petra from the harshest rays of the summer sun.

The sunlight was dappled upon her face and at her feet. The tart citrus aroma of the lemons calmed her a bit. She'd slipped out of her heeled satin shoes when they let her into the room, and stood in her stockinged feet. She'd spent extra time today making certain her nylons were straight, the one aspect of her life over which she still had control.

You knew this day was coming. You knew one day he'd look at you and tell Papa it was time.

But now that the moment had come, she wanted to jump over the railing and take her chances tumbling down the sheer cliff face.

"Mrs. Smith?"

Petra shuddered at the voice of Erwin's bodyguard. The man was the polar opposite of her husband, small and slender and mean as a whippet. Levi, that was the man's name. Levi stood just outside the French doors, dressed in his dark suit. He'd taken his hat off, putting his jet black hair on display. The sunlight cut across him in a diagonal, highlighting his legs and a slice of his upper torso. His affectless face never showed any emotion. His flat, blue-gray eyes appraised her. Whenever he looked at her, Petra began to sweat. She hated him.

"Yes?" She could be short with him now. If he worked for her husband, he worked for her.

"He's on his way. Wanted me to tell you."

Erwin was on his way to their honeymoon suite. Petra knew if she opened her mouth she'd scream, or worse, burst into tears. She hated crying in front of people, but she especially hated sobbing her heart out in front of indifferent men. They'd let her have her tears, then do what they wanted with her.

"Thank you, Levi. You can go."

He didn't move. A bee hummed as it passed through the branches of the lemon tree, bobbing around his head a moment. Levi didn't blink, or flinch, or wave the insect off. He never lost control, no matter what. The bee wandered off in search of a sweeter conquest.

"He told me to keep watch over you till he got here."

Yes, Erwin's dog. Petra didn't think she'd ever hated anyone the way she hated this diminutive man. Even her husband was preferable. Erwin had charm, a forceful charm but charm nonetheless. Levi watched the world with a shark's dead, empty eyes.

"Do you have to stand in the doorway and stare straight at me?"

He snorted, then turned and wandered back into the room. Good. At least she'd exerted herself in some small way.

Right now, Papa and Will would be finishing up at the market and going home for lunch. Mama and Gitta would be setting the table, probably laying five places before Gitta thought twice and took one plate away, trying not to cry. They had all known this was coming.

Ever since Petra was five years old, her father had paid his yearly 'tribute' to the local boss in their area. One year, when she was about nine, a young blond man had been with the boss. By the time she was twelve, that blond man had taken over the top position, though he wasn't Austrian. Some Nordic fellow, they said, cold as a glacier. Erwin Smith—his father had been English, hence the last name—had taken over as 'protection' for Petra's father and other tradespeople in town.

Petra had smiled at Mr. Smith when he made his yearly visits in order to collect his dues. The man had been charming and easy, very handsome. Over six feet tall with blond hair, blue eyes, and an aquiline nose, his voice had sounded like a matinee idol's. He'd been polite to Mama, kind to the children. Petra always thought he had a soft spot for her, bringing her little spice drops or a doll. He told Papa that she was spirited.

Then, when Petra was sixteen, Mr. Smith had made his yearly visit and looked at her in a different way. He'd stared at her while Papa went about his business. After they were done, Mr. Smith had taken Papa outside to have a discussion. Petra had watched the men through the kitchen window. Papa had started rubbing the back of his neck, his brow wrinkled as he spoke to Mr. Smith. He looked agitated, almost like he was pleading. Mr. Smith did not move, and eventually Papa slumped his shoulders and nodded.

That night at dinner, Papa had been quiet. So had Mama; he'd spoken to her when Mr. Smith went away. Petra had been worried when they asked her to stay after supper and talk to them.

'Mr. Smith had a proposition for your father.' Mama had looked pale. Her eyes looked red, almost ready to cry. 'Petra… This is impossible to ask, but…'

'What?' She'd been terrified as Papa got up and made excuses, shuffling into the kitchen. Then Mama asked for absolute honesty: was Petra still a virgin?

Petra had gotten blotches all over her face, she felt so uncomfortable. She stammered that it was a weird thing to ask, then finally said yes, she and Oruo hadn't done anything and they were only friends anyway. Why did her mother ask?

'Because you need to stay that way. No matter what. No more time spent with Oruo or the other boys without supervision.'

'What the hell, Mama?' Petra had always had a temper, and practically knocked over her chair as she stood. 'What do you think gives you the right—?'

Then Mama said that Mr. Smith had told Papa that he would marry Petra one day, but she had to remain chaste for him. He'd give her a good life, a life she could never have remaining in this town. Her parents would never have to pay their 'taxes' ever again for protection. There'd be a good job for Willem down the line, and opportunities for Brigitta in society. But he wanted Petra as his wife.

'What?' She'd choked on her words. 'Why?'

Because he liked her. He liked the way she'd grown. And Petra knew, despite how spirited she was and how defiant, that she couldn't refuse this. No one refused Erwin Smith anything if they were smart.

For the next four years, Erwin had come to collect. He'd asked to see Petra. They'd spoken a few minutes, her eyes down, and then he'd dismiss her and leave. Every time he left without taking her, she'd felt like a death sentence had been commuted.

But yesterday, he'd come to collect and looked at her.

'How old are you now?' he'd asked.

'Twenty-one, sir.'

He'd nodded, dismissed her, and ten minutes later Mama came to her room trying not to cry. She'd started packing Petra's case without a word, and Petra had sat on the floor, clutched her knees to her chest, and begun shivering. An hour later, she was seated in the back seat of a luxury car, beside the man who was going to marry her. They drove away from her parents' house, and went to a hotel. She'd been terrified, but he'd left her in a room of her own. He would not touch her until they were married, he said.

They'd been married this morning.

Petra heard the door handle to their room turn. Her knees began to shake as she heard Erwin's dense footstep on the tile floor of the room, his murmured voice speaking with Levi. She heard the bodyguard step outside, the door close behind him. Petra kept her eyes shut, her heart pounding, and listened to Erwin's footsteps come up slowly behind her.

"You looked beautiful at the ceremony," he said.

"Thank you."

She stared out to sea, thinking of diving into that ocean and swimming far away from here, sinking to the bottom of the endless blue and holding her breath while all sight and sound disappeared around her.

"Turn around, my dear."

It was politely put, but an order. Erwin Smith gave the orders everywhere he went. Petra had spent all last night practicing, telling herself over and over to shut off her feelings and do whatever he wanted. But she was passionate, and always had been. This would be hard.

She faced him, letting one arm rest upon the top of the balcony's railing. It was warm from the sun, and felt good on her otherwise chilled flesh.

Petra looked up at her husband. He was a full foot taller than her at least.

"Welcome, Mrs. Smith." He smiled. Petra had never seen such full, voluptuous lips on a man before. "What are you thinking?"

"I…"

She wanted to go home. Maybe if she burst into tears and fell at his feet, clutching at his leg and begging, he'd take pity on her. But all it took was one glance into those vivid blue eyes and she knew it was a hopeless cause. He looked so certain. He looked happy to see her in front of him like this.

"I'm thinking, um, that I like it out here," she said, almost choking on the words. "It's warm."

"It is indeed." Erwin gazed out to sea. He was still dressed in that elegant gray silk suit, only with the tie gone. The first button of his pristine white shirt was undone. Other than that, there was nothing informal about him at all. His blond hair was slicked back immaculately, not a bit of it out of place. His square jaw was clean shaven. He was almost thirty-nine or forty, but he looked extremely youthful. Only the faintest hint of lines at the corners of his eyes betrayed his age.

Petra had never seen anyone so tall, or so well muscled. For a man of such energy, he could be quite silent and thoughtful. Now he was her husband. But why the hell had he chosen her?

"Why don't you come inside?" Erwin gestured towards the room. Petra thought of the bed, almost like a predator in wait.

"Oh. Um. It's colder in there, don't you think?" she asked pathetically. He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"There are ways to keep warm," he said.

Petra felt dizzy as she obeyed, even as her heart screamed to fight or fling herself over the balcony. But she knew that if she did, if she resisted in any way, it could put her family in danger. Petra could handle possible death to herself, but she could never let anyone else suffer on her account.

She heard Erwin shut the double doors, but he didn't close the curtains.

"You don't want more privacy?" she asked.

"There's a hundred foot drop beneath our balcony." He sounded amused.

"Um. Just in case you wanted more darkness."

"I think I'd like to see you," he murmured.

Petra stared at the bed, a king sized affair with satin coverings. Some officious maid had strewn rose petals over the sheets, probably a standard service for honeymooners. Petra felt her stomach clench as her husband approached.

"Why?" she said.

"Why what?" Erwin had stopped behind her, and she could feel the heat of his body. Even though she was terrified and furious, her body reacted to his on instinct. The muscles in her lower abdomen seemed to relax, and she felt warm between her thighs.

"Why did you marry me?" She began to shiver as the dam burst, as she was unable to hold in her emotions any longer. "You could have had anyone, couldn't you?"

"Yes." It wasn't a brag, merely a statement of fact.

"Then why me?"

"Because I wanted you." It was as if he were speaking of a nice car or a new house. He wanted it, and he took it. Only Petra was not a car.

Asking him if it ever occurred to Erwin that she did not want him seemed near suicidal.

"Why did you want me?"

"Because you have everything I desire." This time, his large, warm hand cupped the back of her neck. Petra bit her tongue to hold in a scream as her new husband wrapped his other arm around her waist, pressing her against his body. "You're young, beautiful, intelligent enough, and spirited."

Intelligent enough? Somehow, that felt like a bigger insult than calling her stupid.

"I'm sure other women have those things, too." Her voice almost broke as he leaned down and placed soft kisses upon her jawline. Erwin's arm tightened around her waist.

"I've also wanted to do this," he said, one hand playing with the zipper of her dress, "since you were sixteen years old. Every year, my anticipation has increased." His breath fanned hot against her ear. "I'm done with waiting."

With one sharp movement, he unzipped her. Petra responded on instinct, flinging herself forward and across the bed, cowering on the other side of it like a child playing a game. Erwin seemed amused. Fuck him.

"It doesn't make sense." Thank God her voice didn't break. "We don't know each other."

"Do we need to?"

"If you want to marry me, yes!"

"This thing between us isn't complicated." He sounded as calm and officious as if he were standing at the head of the classroom, lecturing Petra. As if he were the teacher and she the little girl. "It rarely is between men and women. At least, between men like me and women like you."

"And what kind of woman am I?" Now she was getting angry, and that only seemed to amuse him further.

"Stubborn and arrogant, for one thing." He approached her with controlled ease, but also as deftly as he would a growling dog. "But I've always been attracted to spirit. There are two types of women in this world, my dear. There are those of the mind, and those of the body. My associate, Hange, is an example of the former. You'll meet her later. Women of the mind are of the greatest service to the world as thinkers. Creatives. Hange would be useless as a wife and mother; women such as she should live more as medieval novices, chaste and industrious. Though, of course, I don't get in the way of her dalliances." He stood before her now, a tall, imperious god of a man. Those vivid blue eyes seemed to glow, as if he were lit from within by some infernal flame. "And then there are women of the body. Women such as you." His voice deepened, seemed to caress the words that followed as intimately as his hand would her breasts or hips. Erwin hypnotized her with his approach. "Women like you are made for experience. Physical pleasure, and pain. The pleasure of sex, and the pain of childbirth. I want you to experience both of those things in equal measure." He pressed her against the wall as he bent his head to her, his breath mingling with hers. "You were made to be loved by a man, and to be fertile. You were made to be possessed. Now. You've stayed a virgin for me, haven't you?"

Tears clouded her vision, and her nipples hardened. Even though she hated this man more than she'd ever hated anyone else, even that hideous Levi, Petra felt how wet she'd grown between her legs.

"You know I have," she choked out. "Your doctor examined me yesterday, didn't he?"

Erwin smiled, a smile so terrifying she almost screamed.

"Good. Because it's time to rectify that situation."

Such clinical language from such a warm, sensuous mouth. Petra thought his as his lips claimed hers. He'd kissed her during the ceremony, a dutiful and chaste kiss. This was not chaste. His lips demanded everything that she could give. Petra moaned as he deepened the kiss, cradled her body against his. She felt the hard, hot press of something against her thigh as he hitched her leg up, fit it around his waist. She gasped as that throbbing part of him aligned with her core. She was so wet that she'd soaked through the fabric of her undergarments, and so terrified that she shook in his embrace.

Erwin teased her lips with his tongue, and she opened for him with a gasp. As they kissed, Petra's arms wound around his neck as if by magic. He slipped the wedding dress from her body, and it collapsed to the tiled floor in a heap of satin.

"I like this." Erwin suckled at her neck as his large, rough hands traced her body, her breasts, her hips and legs and backside. "Yes. This was a beautiful choice."

Petra's lingerie had not been her choice. She'd been told what to wear, given a white satin bra, white lace panties, and white silk stockings held up with a garter. At the center of the bra, directly between her breasts, was a small, pink silk rosebud. Petra knew in some instinctive way that the rosebud was a crude joke that she only vaguely understood.

Erwin sank to his knees in front of her and began to kiss between her breasts, to lick her nipple through the silk of her brassiere.

Petra felt herself losing control, desire flooding her mind and her body. She wanted this now, wanted him as much as she despised him. Her gasps came strangled and soft as he began to unclasp her bra, so she could be naked for him. So he could plunge inside of her and ride her on that big, soft bed. Make her his.

"No. No, stop!"

Erwin stopped in surprise, and Petra raced into the bathroom and slammed the door. She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, shivering and sobbing as she looked at her reflection.

She saw a young redhead with wide amber eyes, with swollen lips from kissing and flushed skin that dotted the space between her breasts. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. Even though the space between her thighs ached with want, pulsated even with frustrated longing, Petra couldn't stop the way she trembled. He wanted her body, he wanted to possess it and fill her with his seed. He saw her as a tree, as a plot of earth, something that would give to him what he wanted.

Petra had worked in the garden alongside her father, pulling the vegetables that grew there. She knew a lot about seeding and planting. Her mind rebelled against being an object, even as her traitorous body grew wet and sore with the thrilling idea.

The door opened. Shit. She hadn't locked it!

Erwin entered and stood behind her. He'd removed his jacket, shirt, and tie, and stood bare chested. His body was as devastating as she'd imagined it might be, hard and sculpted. His arms were corded with muscle, veins standing out along the tops of his hands and the backs of his wrists. His arms were covered with dark gold hair, and Petra cried out when those arms wrapped around her. One snaked about her waist. As for the other, Erwin traced his fingertips along Petra's breasts.

He gazed at her in the mirror, almost with wonder, as he slipped the brassiere straps from her shoulders. The garment fell from her arms, putting her breasts on display. They were small and narrowly set together, but pert. Her upturned nipples were pink, and now hardened into beads from her arousal and the cool bathroom air.

Erwin groaned softly as he cupped her naked breasts in his hand, one at a time. She couldn't bear it, and shut her eyes.

"No," he whispered in her ear. "I want you to watch yourself."

She couldn't refuse, both out of fear and dreadful desire. Petra stared into the mirror, watching his sun-darkened hands rove the delicate white flesh of her body. No other man had ever seen her naked breasts before. He squeezed one, and then the other, rolling her sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Petra gave a rushed gasp, watching her skin flush upon her chest, her cheeks, her stomach.

Erwin's hand slipped under the band of her lace panties and she felt him touch the slick, soft core of her. Petra shivered, yelped, and felt him press her harder against his naked chest.

"So beautiful," he whispered. Petra couldn't stop watching in horror and fascination as he kissed her ear, nibbled her lobe, all the while sliding his finger up inside of her. She winced with the way her body strained to accept this strange new sensation. "You're so small and tight. I need to make you ready for me."

She struggled, making soft, pleading gasps as he stroked the seam of her body, began to rub the little bundle of nerves between her thighs. Petra was the only one who had ever touched her clit before, biting her lip as an adolescent in an effort not to make noise as she orgasmed in the dark of a shared bedroom. Dreaming of a man with vague features and flashing eyes who would adore her and make love to her beside the river, or in a bed in a grand hotel.

Erwin stroked her, and Petra felt that deep, powerful surge that began in her hips and shattered her whole body.

She moaned her climax, seeing her face darken with the passion. She bent over his arm, gasping as Erwin shifted his hips against her backside. She felt his erection brush up and down the bottom of her spine.

"Again," he whispered.

"No. Stop, no," she said, crying.

He didn't stop, but touched her bud and made her come again, harder this time. Petra cried in ecstasy even as she sobbed real tears, and felt her legs giving out as he turned her about to face him, cradling her to him, sucking at the nipple of her right breast.

"Now," was all he said, beginning to remove her panties.

In a final burst of adrenaline, she somehow screamed, pushed him away, and raced out the bathroom door. So what if she was naked? She'd fly down the hall, out to the lobby, scream for help. She wanted this, but she didn't. She was scared to death.

She flung open the door and came face to face with Levi.

"Ah." That was all he said, but it was the first expression of surprise she ever saw on his face. He cleared his throat and looked over her shoulder while Petra crossed her arms to shield her nakedness. "Erwin?"

"Please get me out of here." Petra was crying and begging now, she didn't care if it was pathetic. Her body was desperate for more, but she felt so cheap and dirty now that she'd die if it continued. "Please. I don't want to do this. Don't make me do this!"

Levi readopted his stoic, dead expression. If she tried to run past him, he'd stop her. There was nothing she could do. The man was lethal, death personified. All Erwin's other men had whispered that.

But for a moment, just an instant, Petra could have sworn she saw him wince at her words.

"Better go back inside, Mrs. Smith." His voice sounded dead, mechanical. Petra screamed in frustration as Erwin came up behind her and grabbed her, held her tight to his body.

"Thank you, Levi. Stay right there, if you please."

He turned and thrust Petra back into the room. She fell against the bed, weeping, and looked at the glass doors. For a moment, she thought of really jumping, letting her body shatter on the rocks below. Dead, but not violated. Even if her family suffered, why should she protect them? Papa had given her away, like she was property!

But she couldn't hate them. They had been so scared and miserable, the same as she.

Through Petra's tears, she thought she heard something strange. Levi's voice, sounding almost unsure.

"Oi. Erwin? Are you…?"

Then murmurs between the two men. Levi, the faithful dog again, shut the door and remained on watch duty. Petra heard her husband step up behind her.

"You're going to like this," he said.

"Please no. Please!"

"All right."

That shut her up. She froze, though, as she heard the clink of a buckle and then a zipper. The whisper of clothing being removed.

"All right?" She sniffed.

"If you truly don't want this, then we won't do it. But," he said, approaching her, "I should be given a chance to test your resolve. Yes?"

Petra wanted to say no, that if she didn't want it then she didn't want it! But as she turned to say so, she fell backwards onto the bed in shock.

She'd seen penises before. Her brother, Oruo and the guys, they'd all played in the river as kids. But she'd never seen a man hard before. In her naivete, Petra had thought she knew what it would look like. Not even close.

He was longer than she could have imagined, his member almost an angry red. It was veined, a bead of something glistening on the very tip. Erwin touched it, smeared it around the crown of his penis with a satisfied sound.

"I want you very badly," he whispered. Petra shivered as he knelt before her, and deftly undid her stockings. While she struggled to breathe, he rolled them down one at a time, kissing her thigh and knee as he did. "And you want me."

She could deny it, but when he tugged at her panties the evidence of her arousal glistened on the delicate satin. He removed them, then spread her legs wide. Petra lay back, shivering beneath his touch as he inspected her body. Her vulva. Her cunt.

Gently, so gently it was almost imperceptible, he helped her to inch back further upon the bed. He lay atop her but didn't enter, and gazed down on her. His large blue eyes seemed to caress her face. His fingers stroked her jaw. Even in all her terror, she couldn't deny how beautiful he was. Her cunt hurt with longing, sore deep inside of herself with the want.

He reached down between their bodies, and she tensed expecting the pain of his first thrust. Instead, she felt the thick crown of his cock as it pressed against her clit.

The first orgasm was like fire, the second, mere instants later, like running water. Petra panted, thoughts obliterated as he kissed her.

"Such a beautiful girl," he said, making her come again. She'd never known pleasure like this before. "Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"No," she croaked. "I don't. Stop."

But he didn't stop, only began to move his cock up and down the line of her pussy. She shrieked at how good it felt, and every time he reached her clit she came again. She could feel how wet she was between her thighs.

"You want this?" he whispered, now moving his body with the rhythm. It looked like he was riding her, but he hadn't breached her virginity yet. Petra gasped as he moved above her, so hungry for him to be inside of her. When she refused now, it was with some reluctance.

He kissed her, his tongue stroking hers, kissed her neck, sucked at her nipples one after the other while continuing the glorious assault on her body.

"My virgin pearl," he murmured, rubbing the tip of his cock around and around in a maddening circle in the exact center of her bud. "My treasure."

Petra's whole body clenched as she screamed her climax, and this time when his lips found hers and he whispered to ask what she wanted, she said him.

Then she felt the pain of his entry.

Petra gasped, squealed as she felt how huge he was as he ripped through the tissue of her body. Even though he'd made her as wet as she could be, he was too big and she was too small for this to be without blood. The agony raced through the ecstasy like wildfire, obliterating the pleasure of moments ago, but now it was too late and he had mounted and claimed her.

Erwin groaned, luxuriating in the feel of her body around his. Petra felt the tears on her cheeks, but didn't know how to beg him to stop now. Would it do any good? Did she even want that?

His hips moved, and his cock slid in and out of her, slowly at first, then with greater strength and speed. Petra laid back, giving small gasps with each of his thrusts. She wasn't a virgin anymore, and the pain and the pleasure were beyond anything she could have imagined.

"This is mine," Erwin said, reveling in the sensation. "No other man will ever touch you here. I'm the only man who'll know you for the rest of your life."

She whimpered as he rode her, claiming her mouth with hot, searing kisses. She wriggled against him, moving to get away, but that only increased the pleasure for both of them. Erwin kissed and nibbled her jaw, her neck, her collarbone as he fucked her. When her body had accepted his a little, he hooked one of her legs around his waist and ordered her to keep it there. Sex became tighter after that, and she could feel the full, hot, pulsating length of him as it moved in and out of her. His cock rubbed against that small, perfect spot again.

Petra shut her eyes, feeling as though that little part of her was all that existed now, the slit for his pleasure. She was nothing more now than the part that embraced him.

"You like this?" he murmured.

"Yes. Oh." She sighed.

"Do you love me?"

"I hate you."

"Oh, that's so fucking good."

He speared her harder than before, claiming her to the hilt.

"If you ever let anyone else have this," he said, his voice sounding tight as his climax neared, "I'll kill you."

"Yes. Yes. Oh God!"

He made her come so hard that for a moment she couldn't see, and she heard his howl and felt the hot surge of his seed as he came inside her body. Petra thrust against his hips, wringing her body of every drop of ecstasy until she lay there beneath him, her heart pounding. He rolled out of her, and she felt sticky between her thighs. When she touched herself, her fingers came away bloody.

Erwin lay on his side next to her, propped on an elbow. The bloody, slick length of his cock was already softening, but it looked like he might want to have her again, and soon.

"You're going to submit to me," he said. He was like a prophet, delivering what he had glimpsed of some divine future. "You'll want to please me more than you've ever wanted anything in your life. You'll give me your body whenever I crave it, and you'll get pregnant with my child. You'll be so fertile for me. Whatever I request from you, you'll give gladly. And I will keep you safe, always. You'll never fear or want for anything." He stroked his hand along her breasts, the curve of her waist. "I'll give you ecstasy. Submit to me, and I won't refuse you anything. The world will be whatever you want it to be." He kissed her mouth, his lips hot and demanding. "But your cunt is the most valuable thing that you own, and it's only for me. Remember that."

She was wrung out from the pleasure, and now a deep, searing pain opened up her soul, made it ragged. This was going to be her whole life. Unimaginable physical ecstasy, wealth and power, and nothing else. It would never be anything less, or anything more. Petra would only ever be defined by that slick little place between her legs.

"Say yes." Erwin rolled on top of her again, his muscled weight pressing her down. "Because I'm a covetous man, and I enjoyed you more than I imagined I would. And I imagined a great deal."

"I…" She cried, simple and honest tears. "I want to go home."

The merciless god smiled upon her.

"You are home. Don't disappoint me, Petra."

There was threat in that velvet voice, and she slumped beneath him. For her family's sake, if not her own, she said yes. He kissed her again.

"You submit to me so gorgeously." He got on his knees, clasped her hips, and yanked her body against his ever-hardening cock. "I'm going to teach you so many things."

For several hours, Petra learned positions and rhythms, tender spots on her body she'd never discovered before. He gave her rapturous pleasure, and when she thought of what she'd never see or be again, he gave her unimaginable pain.


"Mrs. Smith? Oi, Mrs. Smith?"

The voice woke her. Petra was lying on her stomach, the rumpled sheets strewn across her naked form. She hoisted herself up on her elbows, struggling to cover her breasts as Levi gazed hard out onto the balcony. The sun was rising on another day, blood red and golden orange on the horizon. Petra sat up, patted her rumpled hair, and winced. It felt like swollen fire between her legs now. She felt like she needed an ice pack. Erwin was nowhere to be found.

"What is it, Levi?" She rubbed her eyes.

"Boss says I need to see to it you're showered and dressed. We're leaving in an hour."

"What?" She shook her head in disbelief. "This is where we're spending our honeymoon."

"No. This was where he wanted to have his wedding night." Such delicate language. "The yacht's off the coast. We need to get you down to the dinghy and take you out there. Your luggage is already on its way."

Petra tried to wrap her brain around all this. A yacht? Of course, it would be a floating palace entirely under Erwin's control, going wherever he wanted. A universe of his own. Her stomach growled fiercely; she hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. She winced when she stood up, pulling the sheets with her, revealing the blood stains. The wreckage of her virginity.

Levi looked, then looked away hard. It seemed his cheeks darkened for a moment, but maybe that was a trick of the light.

"How you feeling?" He sounded strangely gruff. "Okay?"

"Fine."

Petra felt hatred solidify in her heart. How dare he look concerned now? She had stood before him yesterday afternoon, sobbing, begging for help, and he'd refused to lift a finger.

She despised him. It was the thing that would keep her going, this hatred. It would fuel her through the long, empty days ahead.

"Be useful, and go run me a bath," she said.

He glared at her from the corner of his eye.

"I ain't your maid, kid."

"And I'm not a kid. I'm your boss's wife. Do it, or I'll tell Erwin."

"Tch. You're his bride, sure, but don't overstep the mark. He doesn't like being ordered around. Neither do I."

"I won't tell him what to do. But I'll be unhappy, and he won't like that."

Levi considered that, finally shrugged.

"Fine. Whatever. Spoiled brats," he grumbled, and headed into the bathroom. She heard him turn on the tub's faucet and looked at herself in the bedroom mirror.

Dark spots covered her neck from livid marks, where he'd kissed and suckled her flesh. Petra's thighs were raw and chafed; he'd had her ride him over and over, loving the sight of her speared upon his cock. She would do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it.

She wasn't Petra anymore. She was Mrs. Smith.

She glared at the open bathroom door, watched steam start to billow out as the water heated up. Levi exited the room, then leaned against the wall beside the hotel door. He crossed his arms, cocked an eyebrow, as if to say 'It's done. Don't expect it to happen again.'

"Thank you, Levi." She made sure to sound as insincere as possible. He smirked.

"My pleasure, brat."

Of course he'd speak to her like that. He didn't respect her unless Erwin did. And Erwin valued her body, her cunt, her uterus. He'd said as much. He liked what her body gave to him. That's all about her existence that mattered now.

For a moment, she nearly shattered under the pain of that realization. Then, instantly, she pulled herself together and made herself a promise.

She didn't know how, or when, but she knew one thing: she was going to get her revenge. On Erwin, on Levi, on the men she loathed most in this world. No matter how long it took, Petra Ral would get her fucking revenge.

NOTE: This is a rivetra endgame story, just to be clear. HEA but with lots of angst first.