She couldnât push him away, haunted by the memory of their last encounter and the fragile safety of her unborn child in her belly.
âStop, please, Mitchel.
It still hurtsâ¦â
Her voice broke, filled with sobs.
For a moment, her soft tone seemed to reach Mitchel.
He paused, questioning, âStill hurts after five days?â
Seizing the opportunity, Raegan let her tears flow more freely, reinforcing her plea.
âYes, itâs still painful.
â
She exaggerated slightly, but it wasnât entirely a lie.
Her skin was sensitive, and some swelling still lingered.
Mitchel looked at her, his expression unreadable.
âLet me see for myself.
â
âNo, please donât touch me!â Raegan cried out, gripping his hand firmly.
For a moment, they were locked in a standoff.
Then, in an abrupt move, her underwear was torn in two.
Embarrassment flooded Raegan, especially with the lights still on.
Thankfully, the swelling was visibly evident.
Mitchel, ignoring her protests, fetched ointment from the medical kit and applied it to the affected area.
His touch, though clinical, sent a cool relief through Raegan, leaving her momentarily dazed.
Regaining her senses, Raegan felt a surge of humiliation.
Tears streamed down her face.
Mitchelâs actions had reduced her to an object, devoid of respect.
He then insisted she remain still, legs apart, to prevent the ointment from being wiped off.
Raeganâs face flared in anger.
âWhy donât you apply it yourself?â Mitchel asked, puzzled.
Raegan was at a loss for words.
She wanted to explain the inconvenience of self-application and that natural healing would suffice.
But in actuality, she didnât want to use the ointment so that sheâd have an excuse to stop Mitchel.
Mitchel then asked suddenly, âDid you avoid treating it as an excuse to avoid having s@x me?â
The room was dead silent.
Raegan panicked, feeling as if he had read her thoughts.