Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 32.

n. this chapter is creepy. if you can't make it through this chapter because you feel triggered or uncomfortable, that's okay. There is NO graphic detail about r*pe. however it is a little tense. but just skip to the three dots in the middle of the chapter of you get too uncomfortable.
again, this chapter doesn't contain r*pe . a little creepy, yes.

There was a bitter taste in my mouth, my once glossed lips dried as I kept inhaling large intakes of air. I couldn't bare to look at the man that was touching me, his rough, almost scaly skin scratching against my own.

I grimaced and raised my shoulders in repulsion, wanting to move away but I couldn't. Not until he puts the gun down.

I feel his thin, wet lips kiss the corner of my lips. My eyes squeeze shut, nearly trembling while he gains the confidence to stroke a hand up and down my arm. My entire body loses its color.

"Can you please...put the gun down?" I ask cautiously, voice soft and wavering. "So I know...that you really care..."

Howard leans away from me. For a moment, I manage to look at him. I can see him in front of the classroom, speaking to an audience of students in my seminar class. His footsteps almost echo in the silence of the considerably large room. I can feel myself standing in the front again, fighting off Deborah with an argument that went back and forth. And to think all this time...

Harry watches, his demeanor dark and filled with rage as he restlessly tugs at the restraints on his wrists. I glance in his direction, urging him to stop with my widening eyes.

Oblivious and filled with a menacing relief, Howard nervously breaks out into a smile. The obvious irrationality of his thoughts and fluctuating mannerism makes me slightly nervous. I don't know when to expect him to explode.

But I feel my body release the tension inside when Howard places the gun on the bed. I can't keep the image of his ominous, perverse smile out of my head, even when I close my eyes again, feeling him get closer. This time, much more bold than before. Greedy hands skimming down my waist, gripping tightly my figure before moving to my hips. My hands squeeze into fight fists with flushed, paper white knuckles. I gaze up at him finally, letting my puffy, pink eyes meet his wrinkling, aging face. He's so close, I can smell the cigarettes off of him, the sweat. Again, I shudder, feeling goosebumps scatter across my paling skin.

Harry had stopped struggling, now in despair as he gulps down, pained face watching Howard's attentive touch on my body. Almost as if the roles were reversed. As if Harry had to suffer the pain of watching me with someone else. His green eyes fell low, grimace on his lips as he threw his head back, giving one last, fruitless tug at the ropes.

I keep my eyes on Howard, on his face and the way he sighs heavily in relief. Finally, touching me. The intense desire and the alleviation of his pain flooding through his dilating pupils.

My lips tremble, eyes averting to the gun on the bed. Howard is too busy letting his hands roam painstakingly across my figure, hands brushing the fabric of my tight red dress -- to notice my wondrous eyes.

"I want you t-to take it off," he says quietly, almost cowering behind his own disbelief. This all must be surreal for him up in his delusional mind. The fear of doing something wrong that will somehow make the moment disappear into thin air makes him so cautious, eyeing every single detail of me with an abnormal amount of focus.

His commands strike a fearful, repulsed cord in me. I feel my body tremble regardless of the courage I'm so desperately trying to pursue. My unstable hands find side zipper, swallowing harshly and croakily whispering, "Can I sit first?"