She is confused... his warm body is pressed against her and her mind cannot grasp what her body already has. She whispers his name, her voice faltering as he inches his way closer to her.

She thinks about everything he has meant to her these past months, and she decides this odd embrace feels all right… after all, she does feel an undeniable attraction to him

Even as he's running his hands over her body, she lets it happen… this touch, it feels good. It feels right. Her body tingles to his warm touch and responds.

Now he rips off her clothes with intensity… and suddenly her body comprehends. She grabs his shoulders, meaning for it to be a message for him to stop but he misinterprets it. Even as her mind is yelling no, she can feel her arousal.

And now he's inside her and thrusting so hard. And she lets out a scream that is part passion, part agony. He is ripping her in half.

And then it is over. As the virgin blood drips from between her legs, her aching body throbs, wanting more. Wanting more of this… thing she has never felt before. She hears his panting, part lust, part sobs.

She feels him collapse to his knees.

And she lies there in silence, him hovering over her. His face is a mix of grief and regret. He runs his hand gently along her cheek in concern, and she flinches.

He murmurs her name, his eyes roaming her bruised, naked body with concern, the way they had just done with lust.

She rolls over and vomits, vomits to let out the pain, to let out the dirtiness. She feels so dirty. What's wrong with her? Why was it so wrong… and yet so right? She feels his reassuring hand rubbing her back and holding back her hair and only retches harder, trying to empty herself of the ache between her legs and in her heart.

She lies on the ground, shuddering. Her mind has already begun to shut this away in some dark place… never to be dealt with again.

She struggles to open her eyes and her gaze rests on his face… tears roll down his face as he sees in her eyes what he has done to her… what he has done to himself.

He gently picks her up, murmuring into her ear… her shivering body sinks into the warmth. She feels his racing heartbeat return to normal as his heat envelopes her limp body. And he is whispering sweet nothings and bitter apologies in her ear.

And then he is dressing her, covering the pain with a flimsy bandage. And his hands are trailing over her body, checking for wounds when he really should be looking inside her… inside.

And then she is reliving it and the memory of his hands groping her and ravaging her rips through her mind. She shrinks away from his vile touch, praying to be anywhere but here, anything but this.

And then her consciousness slips away from her, dulling the pain. She fades away to darkness, shying away from the last shreds of sanity and clinging desperately to this small semblance of relief. But she can still feel it. She can always feel him.