Falling Alone

*Trigger Warning* Contains an explicit SA.

Author's note: As always, this story can be read as a stand alone, but you'll have more context if you read the other Falling stories. The order of which is listed in my bio. When crafting this series, it's been hard to know how far to push. It deals with heavy material that I don't take lightly. This story is probably the most sensitive one out of them all. While I debated whether to tell this part of the story, I felt that the prompt was right. It wasn't easy to write. Please let me know your thoughts. Did I cross the line?

“Happy birthday to you.” Jenny finished singing. She held the cake, chocolate Ethan's favorite, in front of him. 

On cue, he blew out his number 3 and 4 candles in one breath. 

She placed the cake on the square wooden kitchen table and took a seat in its matching square chair facing Ethan. He was already sitting in an identical one. He removed the candles from the cake. Then, he swiped his finger through the chocolate frosting, and painted it first on her forehead, then nose, then cheeks, and finally her chin. She laughed. She reached up to wipe her face, and he grabbed her wrist.

“I got that.” His hands held the sides of her head; his mouth found his masterpiece kissing her face clean, but he didn’t stop at her chin. His lips glided down her neck to the spot where vampires bite and hickeys are formed.

She titled her head back, eyes shut. Her breathing became heavier. He dragged her onto his lap so that she was backwards in the chair. Now, it was her turn. She ran her hand through the frosting. She lifted his face, smeared it on to him, and devoured it. He wrapped his arms around and lifted her up. 

After a few steps down the hall, Jenny half seriously and half-jokingly told him to put her down. 

“In a minute.” He walked into his room and tossed her on the bed.

She sat up and leaned against his pillows. “Do you want to watch a movie? I could make some popcorn.”

“Funny.” He replied.

“Why is that funny?”

“Oh. You’re serious. No, I don’t want to watch a movie.” He said. With a thought popping into his head, he ran out of the room. He returned just as suddenly as he left carrying the blue pinstriped tie that Jenny had given him moments before the cake painting. “How about a little tie action?”

“What?” She asked.

“Well…I mean…I thought about using my handcuffs, but that probably wouldn’t be… such a good idea.”

Jenny’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “Ohhh. You thought…Babe, we talked about this.   

“You talked.” He removed his shirt and approached the bed. He grabbed her feet and pulled her down. The tie wasn’t the only gift he wanted.    

“Ethan, I don’t want...”  Jenny propped herself up with her elbows.

“You see, this is why I love you, because you’re cute. You know? Thinking you’re going to hell if you have sex before marriage.” He removed his pants. 

His words slapped her in the face. “I…uh…”   

“It’s okay Jenny. Humor me? It’s my birthday. I should be able to wear my birthday suit.” He winked, removed his boxers, and climbed onto the bed.     

“I’m sorry Ethan. I can’t.” Tears welled in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry too.” He pulled her back down and straddled her.   

Their conversation ended. Jenny succumbed, but was not complicit as he manipulated her out of her shirt and bra. Her dead weight limbs only succeeded in making him rougher. Pinning her wrists above her head, he restrained them with the tie. He hesitated, and for a moment Jenny thought her nightmare would end. He leaned over and reached into the nightstand drawer for protection, but it wasn’t the safety she was searching for. He put it on anyway.   

Fear simultaneously paralyzed her and heightened her senses. His kisses were confusing. They felt good, and yet she didn’t want them. He operated in the same manner as before except this time his lips lingered on her breasts. With every touch she quivered, involuntarily reacting, feeling nothing and everything at the same time. The adrenaline that flooded in gave her mind the false confidence that she could stop him, if only her body would obey. It remained powerless. Ethan unzipped her jeans and slid them off with her panties. He flipped her over and pushed her onto her knees. He reached around from behind. His hand tickled her stomach briefly as it grazed downward. Jenny jolted when she felt his fingers cruelly playing her as if she asked for it. Was this his twisted sense of justice? This act wasn’t going to send her to hell; she was already there.   

Ultimately, his need became too great; he flipped her over again, bent her legs, and forced them open. He thrust himself inside without a second thought. She yelped, but he continued. Her insides tore as pain shot through her whole body every time he undulated, slamming his hips down. Overwhelmed, her body seized and then convulsed. Faster and faster he went until he groaned and buckled. He was sweaty and hot, and he was crushing her. Even after he had finished, his key kept her trapped in her lock.

Afraid of his reaction, but more afraid of suffocating, she whispered, “Ethan.”

“That was good, right?” He sighed, smiling.   

She couldn’t risk making him angry. “Yes.” She squeaked.

“I knew you just needed a push.”

With her stomach churning and bile rising in her throat, she tried again. “Ethan, I need to use the bathroom.”

“I don’t want to move.” He grunted.

“Ethan, please.” She begged. 

He finally extricated himself and rolled off.

She flew out of bed too quickly. Dizzy, she stumbled into the bathroom, slammed the door, and collapsed onto the cool tile. The cake and spaghetti she had so lovingly made hours before looked and felt like lava as it erupted out of a person she no longer recognized. She and the floor were covered.       

He knocked softly. “Babe? What’s going on? Why did you slam the door?”

She didn’t answer.

He knocked a little harder. “You okay in there?”

No response.

He knocked again. “Come on babe. Don’t be like this. Don’t ruin my night.” 

The knob twisted. Using every ounce of energy she could muster she stood and threw herself against the door. 

“Let me in!” He yelled.

“No.” She yelled back. She fought the door as her fingers fumbled for the lock and pressed the button. 

“Fine, be that way. You’ll have to come out sometime.” He called out. 

She heard him retreat. Finding a bath towel, she sopped up the mess before stepping into the shower because while her attorney mind told her to preserve the evidence, the scared child inside of her screamed. The burning water wasn’t enough to erase his touch. The cherry blossom soap wasn’t enough to release his scent despite how hard she scrubbed. It may have been his birthday, but it was now etched into her memory forever.