Randomly dedicated to dopereadergirl

Jeremy's P.O.V

My eyes were glued to her figure as she crossed the room to where I lay waiting. The dim light of dusk filtered through the open window. I didn't need much light to know that she looked incredible.
These eyes of mine took in everything, from the way her blonde hair fell past her shoulders in ringlets and seemed to glow in the dim light, to the bright shade of her lingerie underneath her see-through robe.
She stood before me, her petite body begging for my undivided attention. Swiftly, I grabbed her and roughly tossed her onto the bed. Her giggles filled the room, igniting a deep desire within me. I hoovered over her frame. Her big Bambi eyes stared back filled with passion. Before I could lower myself, she pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me.
I let her have her way.
Her lips were on mine in seconds. Tugging and pulling a race of pure lust.
They trailed down my cheek, past my ear to my neck. I let out a moan and she giggled wickedly.

"Grace," I whispered unknowingly as I slipped into pure ecstasy.

The kissing stopped immediately.

"I'm not Grace," the voice replied with a hint of resentment.

Reality came crashing down like fat raindrops and my eyes flashed open.

"What?" I asked confused.

"You called me Grace Jeremy. Do I look like your wife?" Cecil scoffed obviously disgusted.

Of course she wasn't Grace. What was I saying?

"Umm ignore that lover. I don't know what came over me," I replied quickly, embarrassment flushing my face.

"What a way to kill the mood," she muttered before folding her hands across her chest. She was still sitting on my stomach.

I reached up to stroke her cheek in reassurance.

"No matter Sweetie. I know exactly how to get things moving again," I said slyly.

She lowered her eyelids in doubt.

"How?"

"Like this,"

With that I grabbed at her, determined to have my way.

I will have her tonight.

Nora's P.O.V

Grace's body looked horrible. Her skin was swollen and fresh cuts oozed with blood. I knew that she was in pain, but she wouldn't admit it. Her body might be a mess, but her mind, her self confidence was what concerned me the most.

She believed that she deserved everything that happened in her marriage. She blamed herself for her husband's behavior, choosing instead to defend him like his actions were accidents instead of willful attacks.

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs from the anger I felt. My rage increased whenever my eyes fell on her bruised body, but I knew she couldn't bear my reaction. She was too fragile now.

My ears rejected everything she said. They were lies, unbeliefs she told herself to cope with the abuse.

She wouldn't even call it what it was. Too much in denial I assume.
Accidents she repeated to me like the word abuse was the Black Death. Accidents made everything sound trivial like Jeremy's hands somehow slipped and intersected with her skin on a daily basis.
It hurt to know that she didn't tell anyone about what was going on, especially me. I was her sister. She knew that I'd have her back no matter what. Why would she hide this from me? This wasn't a secret anyone should keep.