Held [Completed]

Twenty Three.

Twenty Three.

**Warning: This is a highly explicit chapter. I'm warning you because of the heavy graphic content. I'm sure most of you, if not all are mature enough to read this. But if you're not and become uncomfortable then stop. You'll be able to read the ending of the chapter, I promise.**

Once we get upstairs I'm instantly immersed in fear. The kind of fear that is inescapable. The fear that is inevitable because there's nothing you can do to prevent what's to come. The fear that makes your heartrate spike. The fear Rich has created to constantly stir in my heart.

I can't shake the horrible feeling that makes my stomach lurch as he closes the door, locking it too. As I back away, I can't shake the stalking feeling that makes shivers run down my spine. The dreadful feeling of Rich seizing my soul and ripping my insides out.

My arms  flail around to punch him while my legs kick. In a quick, swift motion, he lifts me up and throws me on the bed. My head ricochets off the headboard, forcing a throb to emerge.

I'm frozen as I watch him remove his shirt, giving sight to toned muscle and fascinating ink. But I'm not consumed in his fit body or his art, no, I'm worried about what he'll do to mine. I'm afraid of feeling my soul bleed out as my purity is ripped away from me. I can't help but feel sick at that thought. The thought of Rich's "present" to me.

Soon I feel air on my skin, causing small hairs to prick up. How did my shirt and pants come off? Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.Why didn't I fight? I hug myself while rocking. I'm crying softly and it's affecting Rich.

I see his concerned face when he bends down to stroke my cheek. My body remains frozen when I feel his slimy fingers move from my cheek to my chin.

"Livie,"

I wince when I feel his rough hand grip my chin and tilt my head, forcing me to look up at him. His other hand rests on the cup of my bra. I shudder when I feel him pull my strap down.

"Stop."  I plead with glassy eyes.

He remains silent while trying to remove the rest of my clothing. But I'm not giving up that easily.

"I said stop!" I use my hand to slap him. It's so powerful that even he is deemed speechless.

While his head is faced away from me, I take the opportunity to jump off the bed.

Looking down at my bare legs, I confirm my sorrow filled thoughts. I'm not in my tee shirt or sweats anymore, and he's not in his shirt and jeans. No, we're both halfway nude and panting. I'm panting from running while he's panting from chasing me.

"No!" I scream when my body collides to the floor with him on top. I can feel his manhood press into me, making my body stiffen.

This time he spins me around with a muderous glare etched on his face. His tousled dark hair lingers near his eyes, while his narrowed essonite eyes hint of powerful, dangerous, lust.

"I want you and I'll take you. Now get up."

I feel a cold piece of metal on my neck. A blade. The sharp blade nicks my soft flesh, forcing me to whimper and shake. He slit my throat before so he'll do it again.

Without another word, I reluctantly stand. His large hands swallow mine as he grips them forcibly.

    With the knife still pressed to my throat, I focus my attention on him. His fingers trail my leg until stopping on my engraving. It's purposefully done to make me flinch. To show that he still controls me.

I hate feeling exposed. I hate this feeling of vulnerabilty.

"I still can't dismiss the fact that you broke my rules a couple of weeks ago. You ran when I warned you not to. So now, the only way to stop you is to show you why you shouldn't."