Mine

𝑪𝒉. 𝟕 | 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

Iris

I walk out of the living area and up the stairs into my room. As I go to close the door, Ares stamps his palm at the edge holding it open. Forcefully swinging it open, he comes in and closes the door behind him.

"What do you want?" I ask annoyed walking over to my study table.

I hear the door click, noticing he's locked the door. I turn over and look at him. He throws his shirt off himself, now left with his t-shirt and sweatpants. I walk over to the door, about to unlock it when he throws me over his shoulder.

"Ares leave me!" I yelled light enough for him to hear.

I get thrown onto my mattress so that he can hover over me. His hand comes forward to cover my mouth to stop me from saying anything.

"There are people downstairs, don't create a scene," he frowned with anger,

I use my free hands to take his hand off my mouth. He grips onto both my wrists with one hand as I forcefully argue with my arms. He slams them above my head and covers my mouth again with his free hand.

"Iris," my mum calls from outside my room, knocking on the door.

"You make a sound and there goes your Dad's rep in front of the professor," he whispers.

"Are you on there?" my mum asks.

"Would you really want to be caught like this with me after frowning at the idea of being my wife?" he taunted further.

My eyes twitched left and right at his words. We both stay quiet. Ares waits quietly for her to leave. I'm attempting to free my hands from above my head but fail consistently.

"You fucking bitch, you're acting like I'm dying to be with you," his voice angrily erupted through his throat.

I bite his finger, freeing my mouth. He hisses in pain, yanking his hand in the air.

"I am not acting like that. You know damn well I fucking hate you," I renowned like I hadn't made it clear enough.

"I fucking hate you too. You have way too many guts for a girl," he stereotypically slanders.

"Get off me or I'll-" I start to threaten.

"Or you'll what?" He challenges. "You scream and it'll be a problem for your dad. Not me," he reminded.

I wiggle my body to get out under him but it's useless. He hovers over me with no room. His hand slides under my shirt and behind my back as he unclips my bra.

"Ares," I warned but the warning was nothing for him.

He pulls my bra over my head and sits it behind my neck. A shiver travels down my spine when his cold ring starts to run up from my hips to my nipple. Glaring at me with intensity, he caresses around my nipple with the sharp edge of his ring slowly. I feel it hardening as I look directly into his eyes. I let out a deep breath, feeling myself throb. He lowers his back onto mine and brings his face closer.

"Say that you fucking hate me," the command came along with his crotch grinding slightly between my legs.

I instantly stuttered on my breath while he rubbed along me. I can feel my brain bamboozling right now.

"I fucking hate you," my breath jerked, not moving back from being stubborn.

He lets out a small groan near my lips needing to fasten his pace around me. I don't think he's listening to me. I don't think he can hear me right now. His warm breath keeps falling on my lips. Getting closer and warmer.