sundress and glittery nude flip-flops for shoes. While my hair was straight and smooth, my face no longer had to bear the annoyance of makeup. Over the past few weeks, I hadn’t worn any during my recovery, and Darren seemed to appreciate my natural beauty now, rather than mask it with something fake. Although, he expected to go the extra mile for special occasions apparently.
I never knew what the fuck he was thinking. Like he’d decide to suddenly wine and dine me, and I would finally settle down with my life and accept him. Sometimes, I honestly considered just giving in and forgetting about my vendetta. It would be a hell of a lot easier and definitely less exhausting. Maybe my rebellious soul would finally die and rest peacefully in Darren’s pocket, leaving me to crumple into the complacent robot he so desperately wanted.
Normally, I was fairly vocal with my emotions, but since the wiring of my jaw, I had to learn to swallow them whole. There were so many times when I had almost choked on my own anxiety while I slowly drowned in my depression. I felt useless in my broken state, and totally helpless in my recovery. But I had to remind myself over and over again… this was only temporary. My body would eventually heal. Darren was not invincible, and I would inevitably kill him, no matter how long it took me.
Somewhere in the house, a door shut, and I listened to the thunderous steps that followed. My heart rate spiked, knowing it was Darren and that he was on his way toward me. Anxiety flooded my system, and I couldn’t help but place my elbows on the table to rest my head in my hands. Knots tore away in my stomach while my head throbbed with a knowing pain at my temples. I could see Hank from the corner of my eye, watching me intently as I sat in silence and focused on my breathing rather than the impending torture of Darren’s presence.
And then suddenly the footsteps stopped, and I felt a giant looming shadow behind me. I shuddered when I felt his warm breath against my skin.
I sucked in air as Darren’s large warm hands came to rest on my bare shoulders. Heat bloomed under my skin where he touched me, and even though I hated him with every fiber of my being, I almost wanted more of it. I just wanted to feel good. I wanted to feel loved and cherished… and when he touched me like that, it felt real.
Darren dipped low and placed a gentle kiss on my neck. I closed my eyes as his lips on my skin forced my blood into an all-out marathon.
“Hello, princess,” he drawled smoothly into my ear. My body immediately stiffened.
Fuck, that voice of his.
The knots in my stomach tightened from the mere sound of his voice. The deep baritone that could terrify and entrance all at the same time, and it made me shiver. His hands moved to gently pull my hair out of the ponytail and casually drape it over my right shoulder, and I couldn’t help but flinch from his touch.
His breath tickled my neck, leaving behind a tingling sensation that I fought with all my might to ignore. Despite what this man had done to me, he was still able to leave me breathless with just the touch of his hand. I hated him for it, but I still craved it. The tip of his nose traced up the side of my neck, quietly inhaling me while his hands continued to burn into my shoulders.
“How I have missed you,” he breathed into my ear.
My body was on the verge of trembling, not only from anticipation but also from fear. It may remember the pleasure, but it also remembered the pain. It knew he was the reason for my wired jaw, my useless wrist, and the sharp ache of each breath I took. But apparently, none of that could compare to how good he could make me feel, and it had been some time since he’d made my body erupt in total volcanic bliss.
Eventually, Darren stepped away from me, and my body shivered from his sudden lack of body heat. He pulled his chair out, unbuttoned his light gray suit jacket, and took his seat at the head of the table. He wore a white dress shirt underneath with a silver tie, matching his gray slacks as per usual. It was rare