“Drake, stop.” “You love me, I know you do,” he whispers. And it triggers something in my mind. A flashback I’ve tried so desperately to bury. Him on top of me, my hands zip-tied to the headboard. His lips drag over my throat while he spreads my legs. “You love it, I know you do…” Fear clutches me, burns my limbs, smothering me from the inside until I can’t breathe. “Drake, stop.” I gasp for air. “Please stop. Get off…”
Something is breaking rn
