(Completed) As my fear escalated, I struggled against him, urgently exclaiming, "Stop! William, please, you're not understanding." He pressed me firmly against the bed, taunting, "Would it ease your discomfort if it were your British lad doing this to you?" His words slurred as his hands dared to touch my face. I swiftly turned away, witnessing the tension in his jaw. "You don't desire me like this," I spat. With a glare, I insisted, "Not like this, get off me!" Despite my push, he trapped my hands above my head, refusing to let go. "Stop resisting," he snapped, convinced this was what I wanted. "This is what you crave," he falsely claimed. "No, it isn't!" I cried out, desperately trying to kick free from his weight, which was numbing my limbs. He raised an eyebrow, challenging, "You do love me, correct?" The question was a trap – if I admitted affection, he'd manipulate, and if I denied it, it would be a lie. Tired and frustrated, I replied, "Yes, but not in this manner!" He shifted his weight, positioning himself on my legs, asserting, "Well, you need to accept all aspects of me, including this side," he hissed into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. With a sinister grin, he undid his belt and lowered his trousers. Little did Karen realize that confessing her feelings to William would only deepen the rift between them, turning her expectations into a nightmare.
