zammiewrite1

"Lily," he growled one evening as I helped adjust his pillows. "Why are you still here?" His eyes were hard, and angry when I turned to face him. The accident had taken so much from him, and he hated feeling helpless. He still hadn't accepted it. "Because I care about you, I'm not going to leave you like everyone else." "You're wasting your time!" He snapped. "Look at me! I'm a broken man. I can't walk, I can't even take care of myself. What do you expect to accomplish by staying here?" "I expect you to fight! I... I expect you to try and get better, Marcus. You're not done yet. You still have a chance." He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "There's no chance Lily. The doctors said-" "I don't care what the doctors said! I believe in you, Marcus. I know you can recover. You just have to try." For a moment those eyes softened, and in that split second, I thought maybe, just maybe, I'd gotten through to him. But then his face darkened and he turned away. "I don't want your pity, just... leave me alone."

Enough, Aria," he growled with a dangerous but very low voice. "You forget your place." But I didn't relent. "And you forget that I’m your wife, Derek. Lily’s mother. I have a right to ask you to be there for your daughter. That was the breaking point. His grip on me tightened and before I knew what was happening, he spun me around and pressed me against the door. "You son of a bitch-" I cursed but it was quickly cut off when his sharp fingers dig against my skin, hurting me. My heart began to hammer faster as I felt his rough and demanding hands on me. I tried to protest, but he grabbed my neck and spun my face around, almost breaking my neck before silencing me with a crushing and punishing kiss. I tried to scream but he saw it coming. He shut my mouth by putting his strong palm over it, turning the scream into a muffled groan. Then he leaned in and groaned. "Maybe this will teach you a thing or two, bitch!" I struggled yet again, but he was too strong. I knew I'd never be able to get away. This was his way of asserting control, of reminding me who held the power in a relationship. I couldn't stop the tears that came rushing down my cheeks as he roughly pulled up my skirt and tore my panties in half, then he took me roughly, making my whole body pounded hard against the wooden door with each painful thrust.