He Called Me Damaged Goods
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Summary
All because I didn’t bleed on our wedding night.
Damon, crippled by a pathological obsession with purity, decided right then that I was damaged goods. Unclean.
Every night after that, he forced me into the clawfoot tub, holding me down while scalding water—nearly a hundred and sixty degrees—blistered my skin. He wouldn’t let me out until my body was violently raw and peeling.
No matter how many times I tried to explain human anatomy, he refused to listen.
"Taryn told me every virgin bleeds the first time," he would say, his voice flat, his knuckles white against the edge of the porcelain.
