Chapter 1: Wrecked

Ren's POV

‎I woke up to pain.

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‎A deep, throbbing ache pulsed through my entire lower body, centered right in my abused hole. It felt raw — stretched wide, slick, and so thoroughly used that even the smallest shift sent sparks of soreness up my spine. Bruises shaped like big, strong hands marked my hips and wrists. Bite marks bloomed across my collarbones and the soft skin of my inner thighs. My nipples were swollen and tender. Streaks of dried cum stuck to my stomach and chest like filthy proof of what happened.

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‎I groaned, groggy and disoriented, forcing my eyes open in this unfamiliar luxury. Dark silk sheets clung to my naked body. The penthouse bedroom smelled like expensive cologne, sweat, and sex.

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‎Fragments of last night crashed over me like a fever dream.

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‎The new club Ayesha had invited me to. Too much alcohol. The tall, broad stranger who looked at me like I was something to devour. He had to be at least a few years older than me — damn me and my lie. What did I think when I told him I wasn’t new to the scene? He had a powerful, mature body that completely overpowered my shorter, chubby frame. I remembered strong arms lifting me like I weighed nothing, a deep commanding voice growling filthy praise against my ear, and the relentless way he fucked me again and again until I was shaking. I wasn’t even expecting him to pick me amongst all the gorgeous people on that dance floor.

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‎I didn’t even know his name.

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‎The only thing burned clearly into my memory were his eyes — heterochromia, one piercing blue, the other a deep golden-amber. They had stared down at me while he thrust so deep, watching every moan and whimper with dark satisfaction.

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‎“Fuck…” I whispered, my voice hoarse from screaming the night before.

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‎I sat up slowly, wincing as fresh pain flared through me. My legs trembled when I tried to stand. The limp was immediate and embarrassing as I hobbled across the room, picking up my scattered clothes. My shirt was torn at the collar. My pants felt too tight against my bruised skin as the welts danced across my body. There was no sign of the man. No note. Nothing. He had left me here like a used toy.

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‎I dressed as fast as my aching body would let me, biting my lip to stay quiet. Every step reminded me of the brutal, delicious stretch from last night. The difference had been so obvious — his experience, his confidence, the way he handled my body like he owned it. I had never been touched like that before. Never been fucked so completely in my life, not to mention by a man.

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‎As I struggled with my pants, memories of Lila and Haru flashed through my mind. Walking in on my older brother fucking my fiancée in our own house. The way they barely stopped, looking annoyed more than guilty. My parents had told me it “wasn’t a big deal” and that I should just act like I didn’t know. They should have at least hidden it from me. The humiliation still burned. Lila had always compared me to Haru — his muscles, his height, his “manliness.” She constantly made fun of my chubbiness, my round hips, saying I was more feminine than her. Yet the stranger last night… he had complimented every part of me. He praised my soft body, my full ass, my curves — over and over — with no hint of disgust. He made me feel seen. Wanted.

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‎My face heated as I remembered him calling me “pretty little kitten.” A fresh wave of pain shot up my back from my ass. I groaned loudly, cursing under my breath. “Bastard… I hope your dick falls off.”

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‎I also remembered Ayesha winking at me the night before, whispering “Good luck, babe. Go get wrecked,” before pushing me toward the bar and I really fif get beyond wrecked. I should really keep away from her bad influence like my father and mother always say. I thought sarcastically while picking up my phone to call her.

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‎Last night was supposed to be a drunken escape from Lila’s betrayal. Now I was limping, covered in marks, and haunted by the memory of a stranger who loved my body that I didn't even love had ruined me for anyone else.

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‎How the hell was I supposed to face my wedding when I could still feel the ghost of that man inside me?

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