Less than Perfect

20. Torment {part one}

She shook her head, gasping. "B—but it's not the only way, Johnny," she choked out. "I've learned my lesson. I promise I won't tell anyone, I won't betray you again. Just please don't do this!"

He only squeezed her tighter, cutting off her air supply. "Your promises mean nothing to me."

She couldn't breathe; her head became heavy and foggy from the abuse it had taken and the lack of oxygen. She tried to struggle in his arms but she was so weak and worn down that it was hard for her to grapple onto any hope. He'd thrown her onto the bed, pinning her underneath his heavy body. She couldn't stand it, couldn't stand what he was doing to her. All in all, she couldn't stand him—his presence, his hot breath bathing her face, his abuse, his touch—he was all monster. And she only wanted it all to end.

He pressed his hand against her stomach, crushing her, and used his other hand to hold hers above her head. Then he leaned into her and crushed his lips against hers, kissing her aggressively, more than once. Unrelenting.

Skye tried to tune out everything that was happening, tried to imagine herself in another place, but couldn't. Reality had her in a chokehold, sucking the life out of her. Tears poured from her eyes as she squirmed underneath him, trying to get her lips away from his. Her cries and pleads were snuffed out by his lips at first, but when he lifted himself off of her, panting, she screamed as loud as she could, using as much air as she could get.

Johnny didn't hesitate before pressing his hand on her mouth and chuckling, his eyes dark and unreadable. "There's no point screaming Skylar, didn't I already tell you that? No one will hear you. And you should probably save your breath—you're not going to want to miss this. You'll finally be mine."

She could hear the disgusting pleasure in his words. He was enjoying it. He was enjoying invading her in the worst way imaginable. And he didn't care that it was wrong.

Whimpering, she stared into his eyes and tried to plead for him to stop, for him to give up and let her go. He didn't. Instead, he grabbed her chin, bent down, and kissed her again. It was a sloppy kiss, and the taste was so bitter in Skye's mouth it was hard not to gag.

Releasing her face abruptly, he grabbed her sides, pressed her into the bed, crushing her stomach and knocking the wind out of her, and shook his head.

She cried out, shrieking, and, with her freed hands, gripped the headboard. Pain exploded in her stomach and spread throughout most of her body, creating a wave of nausea so overwhelming she could barely keep herself from vomiting. Her body was cold, unconsciousness seeming to be at the edge of her. Her whimpers never ended; the pain and humiliation was too intense to bear. She choked on her own saliva, coughing up liquid. It wasn't clear. It was somewhat red.

Blood.

Clutching the covers for support, she squeezed her eyes shut. "Stop!" she choked out. "Please, Johnny, stop."

He let go of her sides and moved his hands to unclasp her belt-buckle. "Shh," he hushed. "It's okay, Princess. You just need to be taught a lesson, that's all. It won't hurt too badly."

She wouldn't let him do that to her, she couldn't. "J—Johnny y—you," she rasped. "You're already hurting me!"

He shook his head, hushing her, and bent down near her ear. "Don't struggle, Skylar. Or things will be much, much more uncomfortable and painful for you."

Her stomach clenched, her nerves shattered, body went stiff. In her mind, all she wanted to do was struggle—struggle for her life. But her body kept telling her otherwise, collapsing on itself from the inside, all of the fight she'd once had had slipped away. She couldn't look at him, disgusted by what he was starting to do to her and what he'd already done, and she had to grip onto the covers and close her eyes to think of something else. She had to think of Jules; although, the moment he came to her mind was the same moment she knew he couldn't save her.