All Chapters of Ruthless: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Celia   Little Cayden is really excited since I've told him that I'm on leave and gonna take him out. He ran all around the house crying, "park,park.…" I couldn't really tell Sasha that I was detained. At least not until I could do something about it. But how? How could I meet that guy again? Half of the day was gone quickly with me and Cayden going everywhere we like and eating everything that pleased us. Afternoon I took him to the restaurant where Sasha works. Cayden held my finger with his hand as he looked scared as we entered the dainty restaurant. So she works at a place like this. It's so colourful totally contrasting to my workplace. Technically, I don't have a workplace anymore.       "Celia." Stephan,Sasha's colleague greeted me and took me into his arms. He's a nice young man who is really looking forward to take his relationship with Sasha to next level. He made that too obvious. But Sasha doesn't respond at all. She says there's

The ride is so plain. It has no excitement or a kiss of wanderlust I've had last time. I came here on Lillian's bike alone to get out of the blood, white, and blue for some time. Back then, I wasn't aware of the fact that he was right behind me watching me, racing me and that's how he took interest in me. Now, there's a part of me wishing that he is here and we would have a little conversation we never had. These are some facts I've to admit at least to myself. When I first saw him, I was beyond fascinated. It might be his charms, his golden skin, his attitude, or the lighter. His voice is deep which is capable of leaving imprints of his vocals resonating through every nerve of my body.     When I first saw him, he's just an arrogant, gorgeous pervert. When I saw him for the second time, he was a beautiful pain in the ass who succeeded in taking my breath away with a single touch. I was willing to give him what he wants with a little delay because I was that af

Celia**   "You know what it is called."     "Rape?"    "No woman wants it."    "You do."    "You want punishment. You are thinking that you deserve it."     "you are not responsible for what happened to your mom. You don't have to do it." **     Now I don't have one thing that I always had, "I don't give a fuck" attitude. Shit! This is my life. Why is it being so clueless and oblivious suddenly? Everywhere I go either my past follows or Mr. Brute crosses. Is this fate? Is there anything like that exists? I wanted to believe in it. How can't I when I'm watching him parking his car exactly in the parking lot of the bar I intended to go? I hate that car. I wanted a ride and a or few drinks alone. But he is here too. When he left, I did something stupid yet thing that satisfied my ego.     I bought some sticky

Celia "Sexual blame avoidance: This is the most popular explanation. It recognizes that women’s erotic desires may trigger feelings of anxiety, guilt, and shame. How can women enjoy robust sexual fantasies without developing these feelings? Fantasize about being forced. That way, women aren’t responsible for sex and need not feel distressed about it. I was forced. It wasn’t my fault. Sexual desirability: This explanation reflects the arc of romance fiction, which is wildly popular among women (and the single largest- selling category of fiction). In romance novels, a powerful, dangerous man becomes so enthralled by the protagonist that he must have her, even if his pursuit is assaultive. Eventually, she tames him and they marry and have children. The sexual- desirability explanation says that women have rape fantasies to bolster feelings of seductiveness and desirability. I’m so hot. I drive men crazy. Sexual openness: This explanation says that women who enj

Celia     I don't deserve this. If I'm capable, I could find someone who can treat me better, someone who would not ask me to strip but take my clothes instead, someone who will hand them when he is done screwing me instead of leaving me naked on the bed. There are absolutely many someone who would ask if I want it or not before taking a step. Of course, I want it as much as he does. It is still a wonder how my hands hastened to take his shirt off. Right then,I wanted to touch him, feel his skin against mine. It is all before I caught myself. He didn't let me take my hands back though. We met, fucked, and left. Technically, we are fuck buddies. Well, not exactly buddies. What are we? I don't expect him to be nice to me, but he can be a man right? Maybe a gentle man. Argh! It's Alexander, we are talking about. He will never be a gentleman. At the end of the day, even I'm disappointed, I'm happy, 'cause I successfully held back myself from screaming his name.