Silas’s thick shaft buried itself deep within Rachel, pulled back, and slammed inside her once more. Every relentless thrust struck so deep she felt as though the blunt shape of him would outline itself beneath the skin of her stomach.
Her body was utterly slick, yielding completely to his rhythm. Each time the hard head of his cock battered against her cervix, a sharp, fraying moan torn straight from her throat filled the room.
“Hah… ah… H-honey… Ugh!”
Rachel panted, drowning in a tide of blinding pleasure. She couldn’t help but wonder if the world she’d been dragged into wasn’t a horror game at all, but some twisted, explicit erotic fantasy. And with good reason.
Ever since Silas had recovered from his fever, he had kept her pinned to the bed virtually around the clock. Their meals were brought directly to the mattress; the only time she was allowed to leave his side was for a brief shower.
“Hmm?”
Even as her moans degraded into incoherent whimpers, Silas merely curved his lips into a calm, handsome smile, never slackening the fierce pace of his hips.
He would keep going until she broke. No—even when her pleasure-numbed mind went completely blank and her body gave out, pouring liquid over his thighs, he wouldn't stop.
“N-no more…”
“You said you loved being with me. You said it’s always been like this between us, didn’t you?”
“Ngh, y-yes, but…”
“Then shouldn’t we be making up for all the time we lost?”
Silas smoothly turned the very words Rachel had used to gaslight him into a trap, stripping her of any right to plead for mercy. With every deep, possessive drive of his hips, her inner walls clamped down around him in helpless spasms.
The sensation was no longer foreign, but she was still nowhere near accustomed to the sheer intensity of it.
“Ah, ahhk… No… Ha, hahhk…!”
Her desperate cries sounded less like moans and more like tearful screams. Whenever she tried to squirm away, his broad palm would clamp onto her hip, anchoring her in place. Yet, paradoxically, the moment Rachel realized she was completely at Silas’s mercy, her body responded with a treacherous, heightened sensitivity.
Her depths clung to his cock as though begging him never to pull out.
“Honey, you’ll have to untangle your legs from my waist before you try running away.”
Silas chuckled, driving himself deep to the hilt once more, and a searing heat erupted from the pit of Rachel’s stomach. Her body twitched and squeezed around him in uncontrollable convulsions.
She knew from experience that she was right on the precipice. Her physical response had long surpassed anything she could control. Wet, heavy sounds echoed through the room as Silas’s movements turned brutal, desperate, and fast.
Her knees wobbled and shook under the force of his impact. A wave of intense heat rushed up the back of her neck, and Rachel threw her head back, swept under by yet another shattering climax.
This overwhelming ecstasy had been continuous, day in and day out. Yet, strangely enough, Rachel’s heart felt lighter than before. The sharp, constant terror that Silas might suddenly slaughter her had lessened considerably.
It hadn't vanished entirely, of course—her life was still hanging by a thread—so she never dropped her guard, relentlessly conditioning his mind with tales of their "devoted love."
‘I think I’m starting to remember bits of our past.’
‘Y-yes?! W-w-what…?’
Rachel’s heart had plummeted at Silas’s casual remark, beating so violently she feared he could hear it through her chest.
Taking in her trembling face—pale with a horror that looked like the end of the world—the man had flashed a bright, breathtaking smile. Then, with utter composure, he had declared:
‘I used to make love to you all day long.’
‘…I don’t think that’s right?’
‘They’re my memories. Don’t you think I’d know best?’
‘Well, yes, but still…’
It was a memory that couldn’t possibly exist. What history could there be between a serial killer and his very first intended victim? They had met for the first time in the basement of this very mansion. Yet Silas had stated it with absolute, unshakeable confidence.
‘If you don't believe me, shall we test it out?’
Rachel hadn't dared to shake her head at his sly suggestion. She knew that even if she refused, she would end up flat on her back beneath him anyway.
Naturally, had she genuinely reviled touching him, she would have invented a dozen excuses to slip away.
What unsettled her most was that she didn't hate it—not nearly as much as she should have. In truth, her traitorous body had thrilled with anticipation at his mere insinuation.
‘See? I told you. Why else would you be this wet when I haven’t even touched you yet? It’s like I’ve already filled you up. Right?’
Silas’s voice had been intoxicatingly sweet as he licked his lips with effortless charm. The memory of his hot tongue delving inside her, flicking over her clitoris, rushed back to her.
Her body had heated instantly, her breath hitching, and after the briefest foreplay, his thick, veiny length had slid effortlessly into her.
“Ha… Ugh…!”
Back then, simply taking him in had been enough to send a soft orgasm rippling through her, coaxing out a breath of pure satisfaction. But right now, the situation was entirely different. Her voice was raspy, scraped raw from endless screaming through countless climaxes.
Perhaps in retaliation for her falling asleep early last night out of sheer exhaustion, Silas had been relentlessly pounding against her cervix, coming inside her over and over again from the moment dawn broke until now, with the sun high overhead.
Her mind was entirely wiped clean, incapable of doing anything except submitting to the onslaught of pleasure. As electric shivers radiated repeatedly from her core through every limb, Rachel could only sob out broken moans and release her wetness around him.
“Hahng! Ah, aahh…! No, stop…. Ngh!”
“What do you mean, stop?”
“I… I’m going to… Ah, no…! Hahhng!”
A hot flush of shame washed over her; spilling herself like this felt embarrassingly close to losing control of her bladder. Silas, however, was thoroughly delighted by her response, driving her further over the edge.
The relentless orgasms had left Rachel completely powerless, her body limp and drained. Yet, inexplicably, each time Silas plunged his cock deep and dragged it back out, her hips—which she thought had no strength left in them—began to rise and meet his thrusts entirely on their own.