His Innocent Sera

His hand landed on her thigh with a possessive grip, rooting her in place. His fingers pressed in, squeezing her fabric-clad thigh as if staking his claim. Sera released a shaky breath, gazing at his rings-clad hand gripping her thigh.

The girl snuck a glance at him. His eyes were locked ahead on the road, his face unreadable but the subtle twitches of his jaw betrayed the anger simmering beneath the surface. He was still mad.

"What?" he asked suddenly, startling her. She quickly looked away.

"Nothing," she murmured, lowering her gaze to his hand on her thigh. She wanted him to take his hand away.

"I know something's on your mind," he pressed, glancing briefly her way before refocusing on the road.

"Out with it," he said, pinching her flesh. His commanding tone brooked no refusal. She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Why didn't you let them....." she paused briefly before continuing, "Search me?" His vehement opposition to the search had confused her as well.

He turned his face and held her gaze with quiet intensity before saying, "Agreeing to the search would have meant doubting you, even if only a little. I don't need a search to know you can't steal anything.." except for my breath. He left the last line unspoken and shifted his gaze back to the road. His jaw locked tight before he added possessively, "And letting them touch what's mine?," his hand glided along her inner thigh as he completed, "I'd have torn them apart before they even got the chance."

She didn't know what to feel about his answer. He had managed to defend her and belittle her in the same breath.

It just so happened that on her birthday, the old-age home had arranged a two- day-long excursion for elderly people. And she was chosen to accompany them as one of the helpers. There was no better way to celebrate than by spending her day with these old souls. Her birthday was a forgotten occasion for her family except for Dylan. She wondered if her mom and dad would remember her birthday this time, after all, it was her 18th birthday. She was going to become an adult. There was still hope but deep down she knew they would forget this time too. They never remembered her birthday until Dylan reminded them. They also only celebrated it because Dylan would push them to.

She wanted to go.

But would he allow her?

She shivered, recalling his chilling words. He was going to claim her on her birthday. All these years, she kept enduring his abuse, hoping one day she would be free of his clutches. But never she had imagined one day he would demand something so horrendous from her. Tears gathered in her eyes as the feeling of helplessness pressed down on her trembling heart with brutal intensity, threatening to crush her life force.

The approaching day only fueled her growing panic. She didn't want to lose her virtue. He was a murderer, an abuser, a cold-hearted sadist hellbent on ruining her honor. It was because of him, she was dreading her birthday. She didn't want the day to come for she knew that would be the day she would lose herself forever.

"Thinking about me?" his voice echoed, interrupting her thoughts. She turned swiftly only to find him standing by the doorway. Donning a denim jacket and a pair of jeans, he approached her bed and placed the bag he was carrying onto it. Her gaze briefly lingered on the bag before meeting his.

"Come here," he ordered. She walked up to him with unsure steps. He reached out, letting the back of his hand glide up her forearm. He loved the feel of her skin grazing his. He withdrew a moment later and issued another instruction, "Open it."

She opened the bag and found a shimmery blue cloth tucked inside it. She frowned in confusion.

"Take it out," he said, moving closer. The girl forced herself to not step away. She took it out and the cloth unfurled into one of the finest gowns she had ever seen. She gaped at it in bewilderment. It was a strapless baby pink shimmery gown with a sweetheart neckline.

"Do you like it? It's the color of your lips," he whispered in her ear, making her jerk slightly in surprise. She craned her neck to find him dangerously close. His gaze devouring every inch of her with a hunger that made her pulse stutter.

"Why don't you try it on?" he suggested, looking into her eyes.

"I can't take this," she refused. If he thought he could sway her opinion by giving gifts then he was wrong. However, little did she know he didn't care about her opinion. He just loved spending his money on her.

"Refusing me again?" he said calmly but there was a hint of danger in his tone. He brought his hand up and gripped a peace of hair between his fingers.

"Wear it for me," he insisted, playing with her strand. She gave him a reluctant nod before stepping away and making her way towards the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" he asked. She turned slightly to look at him. "Bathroom," she replied.

"No. You are changing here," he declared, before climbing into the bed. She blinked at him, confused as he leaned back against the bedpost, clasping his hands at the back of his head.

"But I can't change here," she said, her cheeks growing pink. He arched his brow.

"Why? It's not like I already haven't seen most of you," he reminded, his eyes traveling up her frame with deliberate intent. She shifted in her spot, feeling exposed under the intensity of his gaze. The tip of her ears turned red.

"I.."

"So, are you stripping on your own or should I do it for you," he asked, all set to do

the honor if she refused. She cast him a pleading look, fidgeting with her fingers in

nervousness.

"It..it's embarrassing," she reasoned. He wasn't fazed.

"Go on," he maintained, dismissing her concern. His gaze intent on her.

"I can't do this," she refused in a weak but firm tone.

"I'll do it then," he said, moving to get up.

"No..no," she said hastily, her eyes wide. He paused.

"I..I'll do it myself," she said reluctantly. His silence was his answer.

With unwilling hands, she gripped the hem of her t-shirt. Twisting the fabric between her fingers, she gave him another imploring look but he didn't relent.

Shame pressed down on her lids, forcing her gaze to the floor. Tears welled in her eyes as her trembling fingers slowly lifted the hem of her t-shirt, revealing her porcelain skin to him. His unfeeling eyes sparked with interest as she raised it higher, exposing herself inch by inch.

Reaching under her bosoms, she hesitated, her fingers faltering as doubt and shame warred within her. She felt so cheap, standing before him and undressing as if she were some stripper while he watched her. She knew she had to do this. So, ignoring her conscience, she pulled it over in one swift motion, revealing her faded pink bra. A breathless sigh rang through the air.

She could feel his gaze searing through her skin but she avoided looking at him, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. Bending slightly, she reached down for her trousers. Tears rand own her cheeks as she hesitated one more. She couldn't believe she was doing this. Her hands were trembling, her inside was shaking. It was pure torture he was putting her through. But she did it. She did it because she knew if she refused, he would make her do something even worse. He might make her strip in front of her family. There was no guarantee with this sickhead. The trouser pooled around her feet and the effect of it could be heard when a low growl echoed through the air.

She quickly reached for the gown to cover herself.

"Take off the bra too," he said, his voice now heavier with desire. She ground her teeth.

"I am fine," she gritted out, covering her front with the gown.noveldrama

In response, he got up and approached her in purposeful strides. She raised her perturbed gaze to him. Why was he coming towards her? She backed away a step but there was no way she could dodge him. Standing a step short, he loomed over her, eyes boring into hers as he wrenched the gown from her hand and tossed it to the chair.

"No," she exclaimed before turning around to hide herself from him.

He moved closer, his body heat searing her back. She felt his hot breaths ghost over her spine and a moment later his fingers were tracing the back strip of her bra. She stiffened.

He felt her body tensing up under his fingers. But that wasn't going to deter him. She tried to move away but he caught her by locking his arm around her waist and yanking her back against his chest. She gasped.

"Did you know there is a scar on your right cheek?" he murmured, his fingers playing with the hook of her bra. With a slow, deliberate tug, he unfastened it and whispered in her ear, "Makes you even more irresistible."

She drew in a shaky breath as the piece slid down her arms, hanging loosely over her chest.

And, then, gripping her shoulder, he turned her around.