Page 74 of The Damaged Billionaire's Obsession

I was sure he put something in my drink, and I knew he’d forced himself on me from the ache I felt deep inside me, the bruises on my breasts and thighs, and the blood. I must have walked all the way home from the blisters on my feet.

What came after was the worst part.

I was grounded and had my phone taken away. My room was searched, and the small stash of money that I’d earned from tutoring was also taken away. All eighty-five euros.

I was forbidden to talk about what happened to anyone, and I was forced to go through a prolonged period of penance with the Sect for getting myself soiled.

My only friend Maeve, stopped speaking to me having been forbidden to have anything to do with the soiled dove of the Sect.

My mother kept crying about the shame I brought on the family. Even my father was suspended from being a master for sometime time. Because of me, he missed out on going for the annual two-month masters’ retreat and he took his anger out on me with sheer hostility and constant berating.

The most painful part was school. Jake went back to dating Margo, looked through me like I didn’t exist, and didn't say a word to me. I was too ashamed to say anything. Besides, I didn't trust Maeve not to spy on me and report back to the Sect.

It was the sniggering, the stares, the whistling, and the horrible whispers of 'Slutty Siobhán' that got to me the most.

I didn’t understand how they came to know about what happened that night but Jake soon cleared my confusion a few weeks later.

He left photos in my locker with a note explaining how he’d won a huge bet proving that he could turn the religious girl into a slut but started to feel guilty about keeping all the money from it, which he believed I deserved for my stellar performance. He enclosed 350 euros to buy a replacement for the dress and underwear he'd ripped.

I was completely broken by the photos and his words were humiliating, but I needed the money. Seeing only one way out of the hell of pain my life had become, I took the money and left home that same evening. I had no place to go, but I knew I couldn't stay a moment longer.

I spent a few nights in motels but eventually went to Clonmel where Nan lived. Although Clonmel was a small town, without my phone or Nan’s address, it took me weeks to find her.

I stayed on the streets, where I met Twiggy, a big, fiercely protective guy who was just as broken as I was. We never talked about our pasts but became each other's family, no questions asked.

The horrible knot of guilt, shame and despair in my belly constantly tortured me throughout my waking hours. Even in sleep, I had no respite. One day I begged him to help make it all stop. He gave me some of his heroin, which did just that, although not for very long.

By the time I found Nan Russo, or, more accurately, she found me, I was already hooked on the substance. Twiggy and I started stealing to get our next fix. Thanks to Twiggy, we eventually managed to get clean and off the streets and then moved to Dublin.

After a few months, I started to notice the appreciative glances men threw my way everywhere I went but I was too scared to respond. Besides, I had zero libido.

The few times I came close to being intimate with men, I got crippled with fear and guilt and memories of Slutty Siobhán. I experimented with girls and found it was the same.

Then, when I turned twenty-one I met Rory, a soft-spoken, reserved guy who, to my surprise, was completely smitten with me. He treated me nicely, pulled out chairs, opened doors, and generally bent over backward to make me happy.

When we kissed, I always thought it was nice enough. He, on the other hand, would get really worked up. When we eventually started having sex I didn't feel anything—well except for discomfort if he got carried away wasn't as gentle and if we didn't use enough lubricants.

I didn't hate sex. On the contrary, I loved how I could completely unravel him. I craved seeing the look of ecstasy on his face moments before and during his orgasm and those few seconds between reality and insanity became my new heroin.

Soon, I started wanting more, needing to chase that feeling. I developed a huge appetite for sex to and Rory just couldn't keep up. By the time I broke it off, it was clear that I'd become a different woman.

I cut my thick, curly hair, pierced my ears and belly button, got a more edgy style, and wanted to be called Bonnie Russo instead of Siobhán Ni Ruaidhrí.

I was no longer the terrified mouse around men, now that I had found a use for them. Twiggy and I would go to bars to pick up men, some of which became regular booty calls for me. I found out that while he also very frequently hooked up with some of those men in the bars, Twiggy was mostly there to vett the men I was taking back home with me.

One or two became boyfriends, and although I'd perfected the art of faking orgasms by that time, sex was always an issue. My boyfriends thought I was selfish for only wanting to do things my way. And outside of the bedroom, there wasn't much to do since most topics of conversation were off-limits. In time, I accepted that relationships weren't for me and happily returned to my drama-free booty calls.

I couldn’t indulge in sex as much as wanted to because memories of home, the Sect and the days of Slutty Siobhán would sometimes become overwhelming and I'd again retreat into my shell.

As I got better grades in night school, made friends at the bar I was working in Dublin, learned more about programming, and successfully hacked more, I found needed less validation and therefore less of a need for sex but once or twice a month, I’d still let myself indulge in a no-strings-attached screw.

Before this morning I hadn't been with anyone in months. Not since seeing Ethan again on the day of the interview. Since that day, I've been inexplicably drawn to him, my thoughts preoccupied with him, and my dreams filled with him.

I wanted only his attention and desire and I kept pushing him until I got it.

Fucking hell did I get it!

The only problem is Ethan isn't like other men. He made me enjoy giving up control and then pushed me to my limit. If he decides he wants more from me I'm not sure how long I can hold out until I lose myself in him. And if he goes back to being cold and indifferent I think I'd die. And throw myself at him until he breaks again.