“You’re a little old to just be starting.”
“I’m twenty-three years old,” I bite back, feeling his member stretch and tear my insides.
He lets out a satisfied sound, and I bit back my disgust. I’d been told that the act of breeding was mostly pleasurable for the man, but the evidence of such things was painful.
Was this what it was supposed to be like?
The sensation of movement deep within makes me grit my teeth. If I could be like the beasts that shed their fur after winter and shed both him and this memory, I would.
“Are you just going to lay there?” he finally asks, moving his hips backward.
My nerves mount, wrapping a band around my chest. It steals all of my breath and makes the pain worse.
Can’t breathe. Can’t move. Can’t escape.
Looking frantically around the room, I wonder just how I am supposed to do anything with him pinning me down to this table.
He makes a frustrated noise, so I jerk my hips up. A groan slips out of him, and I freeze.
Gathering strength, I choke on another breath and do it again. It elicits the same reaction.
I choke back a sob when a fresh wave of pain radiates through my hips. Biting my lip, I look at the wooden ceiling above me. I try to pretend I am tending to the cattle or walking the forests.
I’d helped with animal husbandry, so I knew how this worked, but gods, it’s so much worse than I’d imagined.
Animals are drawn to each other by their very natures. This is… this is hell.
We continue like that for a few more minutes, and then he grunts and pulls out.
Something wet and sticky slides across my thigh, and my eyes unfocus.
“That was… Well, just stay like that for a while. I’ll see you again tomorrow.” His hand strokes my inner thigh, and the intimacy makes bile rise up my throat.
Now, it’s my turn to remain silent. I study the rotting wood above me, memorizing each knot and beam. As I do, one of those cursed tears slips out of my eye and down my temple.
Growing up, I’d fancied dozens of people. Both the boys flexing their muscles in the river, and the girls with pretty round faces and silky long hair.
As I grew, I’d wanted men—I’d wanted women—but denied myself both because I’d never wantedthis.
When someone else plucks the strings of your life, you cannot avoid the bitter notes of their song. For the giants, we are animals. Devoid of sophisticated wants and passions.
Left to tables over beds.
The man who just rutted me haunts the back of my eyelids, and his voice sounds in my ears.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
I grit my teeth, wincing.
“Not fucking likely,” I whisper, forcing myself to open my eyes and look for something sharp. The examinationinstruments are nearby. Even though the man told me to stay on the table, I slide off. My bare feet pad against the pounded earth. I pick up a tool with the pointed edge.
I’d seen the inside of both animals and humans. I know that if I cut myself near my womb, they won’t let me continue.
Pulling up my dress, I expose my lower belly and try to ignore the seed slipping down my legs. Except, it’s not just seed.
It’s blood.
The sight of red makes my pulse race. I can’t stay here.
