12
CUPCAKE
Mine.So fucking mine.
The voice echoed in the background, blackness coating my sight. My body felt
heavy, slow, useless. Someone was on top of me, weighing me down, immobilizing
me completely. I couldn’t even speak.
And then suddenly, there was pleasure. My muscles locking as ecstasy coursed
through my veins. But just as I was coming down from the high, I was brought back
up by immense pain. My skin was on fire, and my bones felt like they were being
crushed.
But then Darren’s face suddenly came into view, his hand on my throat as he
gripped me tightly. Colors of red dripped behind him like paint … or maybe it was
blood. I didn’t know. The colors swirled around him, marking him like spray paint.
“If I have to fuck you into submission every day to remind you of your place,
then I will gladly do so. You’re mine, Jaden. Forever.”
I could no longer breathe.
My eyes jolted open while a gasp left my lips as I woke from my dream. Stupid
fucking nightmares. I had woken alone, in a bed I was unfamiliar with, in a room
unrecognizable to me. My eyelids were heavy, my body sore, and my mouth dry as
cotton. I looked down at the tangled satin dark green sheets around me and found
the empty side of the bed only slightly warm. I rested my head against the pillow;
Darren’s scent filled my nose and caused my heart to flutter with fear and disdain.
This must have been his bedroom.
I scanned the room for his presence, but all I found were a few dark wooden
dressers, two nightstands, a seating area, a fireplace with a flat screen overhead,
and a bookshelf. Pulling the sheet up to my chest to cover my naked body, I listened
for sounds until my ears finally caught movement in the bathroom. I briefly
thought about sneaking out but then thought better of it. If I wasn’t where Darren
expected me to be, there would be hell to pay, and it was too early for that shit
storm.
So I waited like a good little pet, practiced my breathing and jaw exercises, and
stretched my back and sides. I still felt a pain in my side, but nothing some
painkillers couldn’t fix. I had hoped I might have been able to forget what led to the
pain in my side, but the satisfaction still humming through my nerves refused any
such thing. It’d been a long time since I had been with Darren like that, and I had
forgotten how good it was when I finally gave in—regardless of how much I hated
him. I just wished I had a choice in the matter.
A few minutes later, Darren finally exited the bathroom while I was mid-stretch,
and his eyes immediately narrowed in on me. He was freshly showered, shaved,
and mostly dressed. Black slacks hung off his hips, while a white dress shirt
remained completely unbuttoned over his upper body, revealing that sculpted, sexy
chest and abdomen of his. After everything that had happened, my four-pack was
barely visible, and it pissed me off. I swore I would raise it to a six-pack when I was
done with my recovery.
“Morning, princess,” Darren said with that sly grin of his as he walked over to
me. He had that look in his eyes; that strong possessive look that always made my
stomach twist. And then I realized it was the first time he’d woken up with me in
his bed. He was always so demanding of me, but it was the littlest things that made
him happy.
“Morning,” I replied, unable to hide the caution in my voice as I clutched the
sheet tighter to me.
“Feeling better?” he asked me as he stopped in front of the bed. I eyed him for a
moment before answering. It was his damn fault, anyway.
“Yeah,” I replied, rubbing my eyes. “Just need my meds and some caffeine.”
“Good,” he said, turning away and heading toward the closet. “You’ve got a busy
day with Holly today, so you should probably get moving.”
I gave him a tiny salute even though I knew he couldn’t see me and leaned
around the bed to find my clothes. They weren’t in the sheets, and they weren’t
anywhere near the bed.
“Where are my clothes?” I asked out loud, until my eyes finally came across
shreds of light pink across the room. A disappointed breath instantly escaped my
nose. Darren then appeared from his closet, his shirt buttoned and a solid dark blue
tie on, and handed me a black silk robe.
“Sorry about your dress,” he said after handing me the robe.
“No, you’re not,” I countered, unfolding the giant robe and determining how
much it would swallow me.
Darren chuckled. “You’re right, I’m not,” he admitted as he rummaged through
his dresser. I watched him as he placed a dark chrome Rolex on his wrist and
grabbed his
