There’s a persistent beeping that pulls me out of sleep. It’s jarring, an annoying little peep that gets louder and louder, until I can no longer ignore it. I groggily blink my eyes open, the world around me slow to come into focus. When the white ceiling above me comes into view, everything comes rushing back. My side throbs with dull, steady pain, and I can feel thick bandages wrapped around my torso, the discomfort of healing tissues pressing into my ribs. My throat is dry, a roughness there that reminds me of how much I need water—or maybe another glass of orange juice. The thought of it makes my mouth water slightly. I turn my head to the side, looking for the source of the quiet chaos. Aiden. He’s seated next to me, about two meters away. His back is half-turned toward me, absorbed in the newspaper spread out over his legs. He’s wearing a shirt now, but still in his grey sweatpants. His hair is a mess, tousled in a way that suggests he hasn’t even bothered to fix it, though
After a few hours, I stir awake. My throat feels raw, like I’ve swallowed sandpaper. Every swallow burns deep, scraping along the inside of my neck. Aiden is still plastered around me, clinging tightly even in sleep. His face is so peaceful, soft snores slipping past parted lips. He looks so innocent like this — like nothing could ever hurt us. Gently, I untangle myself from his hold, moving inch by inch, terrified of waking him. When I finally free myself, I tiptoe toward his closet, the wooden floorboards creaking faintly under my bare feet. Inside, I dig around and pull out the longest shirt I can find — a white one, worn and soft, falling down to my thighs. I grab a pair of his black boxers too, tugging them on to cover myself. My eyes catch on the shredded remains of the lingerie he tore apart earlier. Heat flushes my cheeks. Quietly, I slip from his bedroom, the door clicking softly behind me. The house is bathed in darkness. Shadows stretch long across the walls. The air
I feel Aiden's smirk. "Do you want me to touch you?" he asks, so soft, so devastatingly tempting. I'm on the verge of exploding. If he doesn’t touch me soon, I’ll end up just like last night—delirious, wrecked, out of my mind with need. "Yes," I breathe, already slick with want. I’m still on my elbows and lower legs, perfectly displayed for him. All he has to do is slide his hand down... just a little... He's so close. But he chuckles lowly, a sound that vibrates through my bones. "I'm not going to do that," he answers simply. My head swivels toward him instinctively, though the blindfold still cloaks me in blackness. "One more time," I whisper, my voice carrying a desperate edge as I open my legs wider in invitation. My nipples are tight, painfully hard. My stomach coils and uncoils like a storm raging inside me. "Look who's becoming the negotiator," Aiden murmurs, his voice hot and thick, coming from the direction of my open thighs. He’s staring at me—I feel it. Drinking me i
The door slams shut, and the sound reverberates through my bones. “Take off your dress.” Aiden’s voice cuts through the thick air, low and commanding. It’s not a request. It’s an order, rich with the promise of what’s to come. His tone is darker now—gravel scraping against silk, already dripping with lust and dominance. Trembling slightly, I bite my lip and obey. The soft rustle of fabric slipping off my skin feels deafening in the charged silence. Aiden flicks on the bedside lamp, flooding the room in a molten orange glow. The light licks my bare skin, making the black lingerie I found earlier look even more sinful—thin lace barely veiling my nipples, a thong so tiny it’s practically an invitation. Designed for punishment. Designed for him. He stalks toward me, his gaze searing a trail down my body. There’s a feral pride in his eyes—like he’s possessed by the sight of me. He stops inches away, tucking a loose strand of my hair over my shoulder, fully baring my breasts to him
Ali appears beside me, a big smile lighting up her face. "It's so nice to have someone with me," she says warmly. "I've managed to drag Mark out here a few times, but the horses can smell his fear a mile away. They love to mess with him—fake scares, sudden jumps to the side. Never seen a grown man so terrified." I giggle with her, the sound light and genuine. "It was wonderful," I say sincerely. "Thank you for taking me." "We'll try a gallop tomorrow," Ali says as we lead the horses back toward the main road. "Gladiator really seems to like you." "Tomorrow?" I repeat uncertainly. Aiden had said we couldn't stay long... "Please stay the night," Ali blurts out, her voice suddenly eager. "It's been so nice having you here. It's a gift just to see my son like this. He looks happy. Healthy." "I don't think that's my decision," I say quietly, heart aching. If it were up to me, I'd stay forever. "I think it is," Ali insists, patting my hand gently. "Will you ask Aiden? I'm sure he'll
“And this is Betty,” Ali says with pride, her voice filled with a quiet reverence. The zebra before me is magnificent, her coat a striking contrast to the lush greenery surrounding us. There's a large scar next to her eye, which tells me she's been through some great pain. “She’s been with us for five years now. Really flourished from the meek little thing she was,” Ali continues, stroking the zebra’s neck as Betty leans into the affection. “You should’ve seen Aiden’s face when he first saw her.” Ali chuckles softly, her eyes twinkling with the memory. I follow her lead, reaching out to gently touch Betty’s soft nose. The zebra huffs softly in response, her large brown eyes locking with mine as if she’s appraising me. “These are the rest of the horses.” Ali gestures toward the animals grazing peacefully nearby. “Some were rescued from slaughter facilities, others came from abandoned farms, and one just... walked into our garden like she belonged here.” She laughs again, the sound