Aggressive and Possessive

Chapter 17 Part 2

"H-Harry," I stammered, pressing my palms to the cool surface of the wall behind me-pushing-hoping in some way it'll collapse backwards, giving me an escape from the monster glaring down at me-or at least crush me within the process.

"Ah-ah," he cooed, placing his index upon my parted lips, "What did I say about talking?"

I shook my head as I shut my eyes, praying for him to back away.

"Pleas-"

Before I could finish my plea, his rough hand came into a fast collision with my cheek, knocking my head to the side, leaving a sharp sting and sure enough a rosy tinge.

"I don't like it when you disobey me, kitten," he growled lowly, his leg moving between both of mine, parting my thighs, "If you keep this up, you'll be punished and this time, it won't be as fun..."

He placed his hand over mine and lifted it slowly, keeping his eyes on me as he did the work for the both of us. He controlled all of my movements, lightly grazing the skin of my thigh, then moving it above his pants, tracing higher and higher. He slowly skated my palm across his crouch, gripping down on his shaft through the material.

"...for you."

My body froze, failing to make any movement as fear paralysed me. I wanted desperately to move, to run away, to set myself free from the cruel actions of the man before me-but I was scared stiff. I had no control over my body at this point, unlike Harry, who took matters into his own hands. Literally.

My breathing was short and ragged, making it harder for me to accept the right amount of oxygen. This wasn't the Harry I cared for, this wasn't the Harry down at the pool, this wasn't the Harry who loved music. This is the Harry I feared, the side of Harry I hate more than anything, the monster part of him.

I wanted the kind Harry.

I want him back, please come back.

"Now you have nothing to say?" he quizzed, his voice just above a whisper. His emerald eyes were transfixed on my blue ones, still moving my hand over his shaft, "Cat got your tongue?"

My eyes were glassy, everything around me looking identical to a smudged portrait destroyed by a gush of liquid.

Harry raised his other hand and rested it beside my head, leaning in slowly, his lips inching closer and closer to mine. Not once did his gaze drift from my own, "It'll be best if you try not to open that pretty little mouth of yours," he said, enclosing his hand around mine, now firmly cupping his growing member, "Until I say so."

Although my muscles were stiff, they wouldn't stop shaking, and with each word Harry spoke I couldn't help but tremble harder and harder; my body was no longer in control. Iwas no longer in control, all because I couldn't keep my stupid mouth shut.

"Get on your knees."

My stomach began churning, the food I had earlier this morning threatening to rise from my belly and empty its remains onto Harry. My lips parted, my eyes widening in horror, my breathing shallowing as he showed no sign to take back his demand.

He's got to be joking.

The hand that rested on the wall was now cupping my cheek; to anyone, this would be a romantic gesture, a cute scene from a movie, a photo to paint onto a canvas-in reality this was anything but that, especially with my hand still on his crouch.

If anything, this is a scene that belongs in one of those brutal, horrendous, gruesome movies that boys seem to enjoy so much, but I couldn't stand watching them. The girl nevergets away. She's either, killed, sent to a mental institute, or scarred for life. And I don't want any of those three scenarios to happen to me. But what else can I do? There's no stopping Harry from hurting me and I can't successfully defend myself against him. He's stronger than the average male, and I'm weaker than a small bird.