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Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I laid there on the bed feeling wasted and sobbing silently. The white duvet was wrapped around my flushed pink body that clenched in utter disgust and pain from the shock of all that had happened.

I slowly turned to stare at the man who completely felt entitled to taking advantage of me. He looked responsible though, and that made it more puzzling. His huge figure spread graciously on the side of the bed opposite me, as his naked back glistened in the soft light from the mini chandelier.

The room was exotic, extremely wide and spacious, with very costly paintings hanging in strategic places on the wall. The huge television stood intimidatingly opposite the extra large bed we were lying on.

The rich looking curtains doted the windows, and a thin line of wired crystals fashioned like curtains separated the bedroom from the vast sitting room, and softly glistened against the light, in the semi darkness. The bedroom had no such thing as privacy from the sitting room.

A lone office chair laid in the corner of the room, opposite a finely arranged table, stacked with books, files and paper envelopes. The room exuded importance, and the beauty of its orderliness made it look like he (Mr. Entitled) was someone of a higher calibre, not just my class.

I could say he was rich. Very rich. Though cold and stern, godlike and demon-like at the same time, he seemed to command a lot of respect.

What I couldn't just understand was how he felt entitled to have me. I absolutely had no say on it, only his decision mattered. What annoyed me the most was the fact that he called his taking advantage of me “help”.

Help.

I was forced to give him this so-called help. It wasn't of my own free will.

My exhausted body laid strewn beside him, unable to move. I felt disgusted with myself as his sporting fluids and my blood mixed up on my skin and vagina. I badly needed a wash but I was too sore to get up, so I laid back, feeling more humiliated than ever, as a burst of sadness surged through me. I wished I could unwind this moments and make it never happen... but I was no witch or goddess.

I let the tears take a silent, free stroll down my face. Looking at this beautiful, yet, ugly hearted man, all I could think of was putting a pistol to his head if I had the chance. I badly wanted to avenge myself while he slept, but I had never, really killed before and did not know how to kill. Or maybe, I knew how to, but didn't just have the heart enough.

He laid lopsided on the bed, part of his body slightly pitched outside the bed. I guessed if I pushed him down with all the strength left in me, he'd just fall down and die, so I gave it a try.

Let me be Scar - Simba's evil uncle if you so please.

Now guess what?

He didn't bulge from his position, but instead, he awoke with sleepy, yet gleaming eyes, that looked innocently startled and confused. His expression was priceless, like a startled baby, it almost melted me.

He reached out for my waist from underneath the duvet, and I slapped his hand furiously. He went ahead to inch closer to me, while dragging me towards himself and putting one leg over my thighs. I pushed him in anger and frustration, trying so hard to wriggle free, all to no avail.

He glossily curled me up to his firm grip, burying his straight, firm nose in my hair.

“That's not a very lady-like way to wake someone up.” He chided in a husky, seductive voice.

This flared me up totally. Just look who's talking about being lady-like! When he himself was a crude, nasty fellow. And no… he was no gentleman! How dare he!?

I struggled to loosen myself from his grip, but he held me still tighter, with his lips over my ears, brushing it slightly and his breath softly diffusing over my hair and cheek. I could feel his smile over my ear, and his bulge clamping against my behind.

The tears that had welled up in my eyes threatened to pour, and I flogged myself mentally for pushing him away at first. Now he's not dead and I'm the only one suffering.

His grip like a magnet made me immobile. I kept berating myself for not being strong enough to fight him and save myself from this whole mess. Infact, I used to think that it took at least two or more men to overpower a girl, but I am right here, lying helplessly at the mercy of just one man.

He must feel like a HERO now.

My thoughts got me more emotional. I felt like a total weakling, unable to defend myself. I felt like a totally pathetic stock, useless even…

Where did I even go wrong to deserve all these? Could someone have set me up? How come it looked like he had been waiting for me? And wait! He said something about someone saying that I was clean... who could that even be?

Oh God!

He jerked in his sleep like he was having a bad dream, and I could feel his muscles tensing up from besides me. It seemed like he was in so much pain, and he groaned lightly under his throat, and after a while, he was relaxed again.

I noticed that he had fallen asleep, so I pulled his hand away, and then painstakingly pushed his leg off my lower body; but immediately I tried to get up, he pulled me back to bed, encapsulating me again in his grip.

My Samsung started ringing furiously, but he wouldn't let me go get it. So I stayed there in his grip; mad, sad, humiliated and all the worst feelings one could ever imagine.

The phone rang repeatedly, unendingly, and I could only guess who it was, my boyfriend.

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