Page 2 of Prove Me Wrong
MIA
THREE YEARS LATER
“Stop!” I grit out, trying to claw my way out of his grip. Nails digging into his flesh, Ryan’s hands hold me down like iron clamps, willing me to stay still beneath him.
Pulse drumming wildly in my throat, I fight to free myself from his grip, but it’s useless. His naked body weighs me down, feeling heavy against my leaner muscles that are alive with fiery adrenaline.
“Shut it, Mia,” Ryan seethes, mouth snarling. Deep chocolate eyes glare into mine, vivid with hatred and lust that it almost makes me vomit. I tremble beneath him like a branch caught in a thunderstorm.
Hand rising, my eyes clamp shut quickly when the sound echoes through the room a beat later, pain flaring across my cheekbone. Tears slip down my face, body vibrating, as his hands press into me.
“Stop being a brat! Stop fighting me,” Ryan grunts out, pinning me down once more. I thrash against the bed, trying anything to get him off me.
Swallowing loudly, I gasp as his hand reaches between my legs, shoving my underwear aside. Out of instinct, I clamp my thighs together, musclespulsing. “Ryan, stop!” My words come out as more of a plea than a threat. Hot tears sting in my eyes, tumbling down my cheeks as his other hand wraps tightly around my neck and squeezes.
Choking and clawing at his arm, menacing deep irises glare down like I'm prey. “I told you to shut up. I won’t tell you again, Mia. Listen to me or I’ll beat you unconscious and then ruin you into pieces like you deserve.” His tone is so low and murderous that I fear I might die right here, beneath him, with his hand touching me in places I don’t want to be touched. “You’re too broken now, anyway. No one else will want you when I'm finished with you.”
Hand slipping from my throat, I gasp loudly, filling my screaming lungs again. Eyes flaring widely, his fingers dig into me aggressively and I cry out in pain. “Ryan! Get off me!”
His jaw clenches so tightly I see the outline of every muscle in his jaw like rocks underneath his flesh. Rage and thirst burn through his harsh glare, shifting into something lethal and darker like demonic orbs.
“I don’t—don’t want this.” I stutter out as pain shoots through my body, breath failing to escape my throat from the build up of pressure weighing me down. Every muscle beneath my trembling skin is tense from the effort of trying to push him off.
I never wanted this. What should have been a casual relationship, something to keep my friends quiet and accept me into their group, has turned into this.
“Oh, I think you do,” he snarls out. His lips move to my ear, voice dropping so low that it sends shivers down my spine. “And if you tell anyone, they won’t believe you, so don’t even bother fighting me.”
Squirming again, my smaller body feels useless against his thicker frame. Panicking, I do the only rational thing I can think of doing when I’m under this much stress. My mind is in overdrive and my heart feelslike it might implode, melting the rest of me like a dying star bursting with overwhelming energy.
My fingers reach down between us, and for a second, I see a flash of relief pouring over Ryan’s features.
He actually believes I’ve changed my mind, and I want to pleasure him.
Grabbing hold of him, I squeeze as hard as I can until his face twists in agony, wincing loudly. Slipping off the side of the bed, Ryan falls to the floor with a thud, holding himself and whimpering like a coward.
Quickly scrambling to my feet, I catch sight of myself in the mirror hanging on his wall. I only have my underwear on, and bruises decorate my pale flesh, along with fresh nail marks.
Why did I agree to be with this man? I don’t love him. I’ve never loved him.
Gulping, I dash to the other side of the bedroom, holding up my delicate hands in defence as Ryan writhes on the floorboards, nose scrunched as he groans.
“You deserve that, you pig!” I snarl at him. “If I say no, then I mean it!”
I don't register swiping my phone off the side table where I left it moments after entering the room, nor do I take my eyes off the man lying in a heap at my feet as I adjust my underwear and slip into my forgotten clothes beside the bed. Despite having my body covered again, I feel violated, used and worthless. Nothing can cover how shattered I feel inside now—completely torn apart and stomped on.
Moving towards the closed door, I pull it open, my escape route at the tip of my fingers, only for Ryan’s hand to shoot out from behind me, slamming it shut. How'd he get up so quickly? Pushed against it, cheek mashing against the wood, Ryan breathes heavily into my ear like a panting tiger.
More tears roll down my face.
How am I going to escape him?
Fear pours down my spine in trickles of ice, my breathing erratic when he pulls on my hair, forcing my chin up. Legs tightening, sweat cakes my neck and armpits as I try not to shake like a leaf.
Ryan leans forward, teeth grazing the shell of my ear. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.” His voice is barely audible, but to me, it’s as loud as a siren blaring through the streets at midnight. “I just wanted to make you happier.” The words sting my chest with their bitterness.
My throat works as I feel his hand on my back. I shake my head, but he doesn’t understand. I don’t want to do this.
I never wanted this.
