Raised By Scar (18+)

Morning came, soft and golden. The air was crisp, windows half open, and the scent of clean earth drifted through the curtains.

I woke up with my legs aching and my body sticky with heat I hadn't fully processed yet. The room was still dim, the curtains only letting in a faint line of light across the floor. I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, unsure how to move, how to think, or even what I felt.

Was it shame? Satisfaction? Regret?

For once, I wasn't dreading the day.

I made tea because I needed it but that small act of choice felt important.

I didn't flinch when Josh passed behind me to grab his keys. Didn't retreat when our hands brushed.

He looked at me.

I didn't look away.

POV: There's a difference between fear leaving and control returning. One frees you. The other teaches you to breathe again.

I woke up with my legs aching and my body

I didn't know. Everything was a blur.

My thighs still tingled. My chest felt sore, swollen, and marked by his mouth faint bruises hidden under the skin. I didn't remember falling asleep. I just remembered giving in. Again. And again.

I sat up slowly, brushing my hand across my shirt Josh had pulled it halfway back down, but not fully. My nipple ached as the fabric rubbed against it. I winced, still caught somewhere between last night's wildness and this morning's silence.

I needed to get ready. My outing with Anna started in less than an hour.

But just as I stood to reach for my bag, the door creaked open again.

Josh.

He didn't knock this time.

He came in shirtless, eyes darker than before, like the night hadn't ended for him yet. He shut the door quietly behind him and locked it. My heart sank or maybe it jumped. I couldn't tell the difference anymore.

I couldn't stop thinking about last night, he murmured, stepping toward me.

Josh— I started, but he was already in front of me, already pressing his hands to my waist, already lifting my shirt back up.

I need to feel you again," he whispered, his voice more husky this time, more desperate like the hunger had deepened overnight instead of satisfied.

Before I could even say his name again, he had me backed up against the wall, kissing down my neck, his hands already moving with urgency. My shirt was pulled off. My bra followed. My breasts bounced as he sucked one into his mouth, harder than before so hard I gasped, not sure if it was pain or pleasure that made me press my hand to his hair.

Josh....stop I'm late, I said weakly, but my hips were already betraying me, arching toward his hand.

You'll leave when I'm done, he muttered against my skin.

And then he was kneeling again, but this time, everything felt deeper. More intense. He didn't tease. He buried his face between my thighs like he was trying to drown in me, licking with long, slow strokes that left me breathless.

When his fingers slid back inside, they curled with intention, hitting spots that made my knees shake. My breasts bounced each time he moved, harder, faster. The sounds wet, unfiltered, shameless filled the room. I could hear myself, feel myself. I didn't know whether to cry, scream, or hold on for dear life.

My body was shaking, my legs parting wider without thinking, and the more he worked me open, the less I could breathe.

It was a marathon. Longer than last night. Deeper. Rougher. Like he was trying to prove something.

And just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he looked up at me from between my thighs and said, "You'll be thinking about this all day in your outing with Anna

I wasn't sure if that was a warning or a promise.

But I knew he was right.

I could feel every inch of him, every slow push forward, every drag back. It was maddening. My walls clenched around him like they were trying to pull him deeper. Each thrust hit something inside me that made my legs weak. My moans weren't quiet this time. I was loud. I didn't care.

I felt him press deeper, one hand reaching under to stroke where I was dripping. The wetness made everything louder, slick sounds mixing with my breathy cries. And then… that strange, aching pressure built low in my belly.

It was thick. Heavy. Like something was shifting inside me. My stomach tensed, my hands gripped the edge of the bed tighter, and I whimpered.

Josh… I feel it. Something's… I couldn't finish the sentence.

He didn't stop. He only bent me down lower, his chest almost against my back now, grinding in deeper making me feel every inch of that thickness. He whispered in my ear, his voice dark and hot.

Don't fight it. Take all of it. You're made for this.

My body responded before my brain could argue. I was trembling, overwhelmed, dripping down my thighs. Every part of me was open, stretched, pulsing.

And for a moment, I got scared.

I was afraid my body had changed opened

too much, swallowed too deep. Maybe I am ruined now. That I'd never feel normal again.

After he left the room, I wash up to meetup with Anna, nothing is going to stop me from the outing not even josh

After washing up, I dressed up with confidence and brushed my hair.

I had finished brushing my hair, the strands falling like soft shadows over my shoulders. The mirror caught my eyes wide, restless, unsure. I didn't know what I was waiting for, but I had that feeling again.

My reflection stared back at me like it didn't know what I'd done.

Like it was wondering if this new strength was really strengthor just another version of surrender.

But in the middle of that fear…

I also didn't want it to stop.