Once, my paranoid love

“No, I’ll just stay a bit longer,” Paul replied, his voice a disconcerting mix of persistence and entitlement. His words hung in the air, a looming presence that threatened to prolong the suffocating atmosphere of our shared space.

I couldn’t bear it any longer. The facade of his phony caring had become unbearable, a constant reminder of the twisted game he played with my emotions. I had endured his blabbering for far too long, and the pent-up frustration and anger finally erupted within me.

“Get out of here!” I yelled, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance. I couldn’t stand his presence any longer, couldn’t bear to be trapped in this nightmarish reality of false affection and torment.

Paul’s expression darkened once more when he saw me like this, my voice raised in anger and desperation. He lost his composure and, with a sudden burst of rage, he gripped my jaw with both hands, his fingers digging into my skin.

“You’re a pretender, you know that,” Paul shouted, his anger palpable. “You were crying earlier and are now yelling at me.”

The room felt like a battleground, a place where our twisted emotions clashed in a volatile storm. I couldn’t deny the truth in his words; I had played the role of both victim and survivor, alternating between moments of vulnerability and defiance to navigate this nightmarish relationship.

After silencing me once more by wrapping a cloth around my mouth and binding my hands, Paul hoisted me over his shoulder with a cruel indifference. The room had become a chamber of horrors, and I struggled against the restraints, a surge of desperation coursing through my veins.

“Mmm,” I screamed into the cloth, using all the strength I could muster to resist his grip. It was a futile attempt, but I refused to go quietly into the darkness he was leading me to.

Paul left the mansion, each step he took away from that wretched place sending shivers down my spine. My world had become a nightmare, a twisted reality that seemed to have no end.

He reached his car and tossed me into the back seat with a callous disregard for my well-being. The door slammed shut behind me, and I was momentarily alone, my hands still bound but the cloth removed from my mouth.

“Paul, why are you bringing me here?” I shouted, my voice tinged with anger and desperation. The world outside the car was a blur, but I knew that we were moving away from the mansion, away from the horrors that had unfolded within those walls.

Paul glanced at me, his eyes revealing a complexity of emotions-anger, remorse, and perhaps a glimmer of doubt.

“Is it hard for you to talk normally with me? Why do you yell at me all the time?” Paul replied, his voice a strange mix of irritation and anger as he placed his hand on my bare waist. The car seemed to close in around us, and my heart raced in response to his touch.

As if in a trance, he began unbuttoning his shirt, his actions adding a layer of unsettling vulnerability to the charged atmosphere. I frowned, my hands instinctively moving to cover my body, though I had nothing to shield myself from his probing gaze.

I stammered, “Pa… Paul,” my voice trembling as I took a hesitant step back, the space between us growing wider. Panic welled up within me as I implored him, “Paul, don’t.”

But my pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears, and his intentions remained shrouded in uncertainty. His eyes bore into mine, a strange mixture of desire and desperation, as if he sought something that I couldn’t comprehend.

“Elena,” Paul said in a strangely soft voice as he gently touched my bare abdomen, his fingers tracing delicate patterns. I shivered at his touch, my skin prickling with a mixture of discomfort and fear.

But when he put his hand on my belly, I couldn’t help but jerk back, a reflexive reaction to the unsettling intimacy of his actions. His touch was invasive, his presence suffocating.C0pyright © 2024 Nôv)(elDrama.Org.

As his fingers found my navel, he leaned in and pressed a kiss against it, sending a wave of revulsion coursing through me. It was as if he reveled in the discomfort he was causing, taking pleasure in my helplessness.

“I want to be in love with you,” Paul declared, his words laced with a disturbing mix of possessiveness and desire. “I don’t want anyone to hear us having fun, so I’ve brought you here.”

My instincts screamed at me to fight back, to resist his advances, but I was bound by fear and uncertainty. I gestured and tried to step forward, intending to kick him and break free from his grasp. But he moved swiftly, pressing his body against mine, his hands sliding up to my bosom.

I gasped in shock and horror as he slid my hair away from my bosom and took a bite, his actions a grotesque violation of my boundaries.

Paul’s obsession had taken a dark and twisted turn, and I was trapped in a nightmare of his making. The world had become a place of fear and torment, and I was uncertain how to navigate the horrors that surrounded me.

“Stop it!” I gasped, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desperation.

But Paul ignored my plea and continued his disturbing actions, sucking on my skin with an unsettling intensity. I felt a wave of revulsion wash over me, and I squeezed my eyes closed, unable to bear the violation any longer. I was trapped, my body bound and my voice stifled by the nightmare that had become my reality.

Summoning every ounce of strength I could muster, I forced myself to speak, to try and reason with the man who had become a monster before my eyes. “Paul, listen to me,” I implored, my voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with a desperate urgency.

Still latched onto my bud, he raised his gaze to meet mine, his eyes dark and unfathomable. “Yes, babe,” he replied, his voice dripping with a twisted sense of affection. The proximity of his face to mine was suffocating, and I felt a growing sense of dread.