Her Wish, His Promise (Rewrite)

FOURTEEN

CHEYENNE POV

My head pounds as I try to push myself up, only to find that my wrists are handcuffed above my head. I have to move my body to the side and sit against the headboard in discomfort. Chris watches me silently from across the room, his cold honey eyes focused on me like a predator to prey.

I glare back at him, licking my dry lips before asking, “why am I here?”

“Because I want you here.” 

“Bullshit! You were done with me. You said as much before you threw me out on the street and couldn’t give two fucks about me. What do you really want?” I snap.

“As I recall, you broke up with me. Something about me being an ‘unbearable, shitty asshole whose only redeeming trait was his cock’.” He retorts coldly.

“Good to know that it’s still true.” I grin fakely.

He towers over me, a scowl on his face, “a lot’s changed since then, Chey.”

His use of my old nickname awakens memories of his cruel and asshole like behaviour. I thought he really loved me, but that turned out to be a lie just like everything else. Men like him don’t change, they just grow worse over time.

“If things have changed then why did you hit Mina with a riding crop and call her a whore when she did nothing wrong? Why are you stalking her and trying to control her life still?” 

He stares at me, flabbergasted that I know these things, “Last I checked you enjoyed being beaten and being called a whore.”

“Not all subs do. Not that you’d know that.” I say.

He grabs me by the chin, forcing me to look at him, “you’re getting really close to pissing me off, you might want to shut up before things get worse for you.”

I laugh in his face, “nothing you do scares me anymore. I walked through your fire and made it out on the other side.”

He shoves me back into the bed, and climbs off me, before leaving the room. The door shuts quietly behind him, but he doesn’t bother to lock it for some reason, but there’s no way I’m getting out of these handcuffs so what does it matter anyways.

The cut on my stomach and cheek have stopped bleeding, but the area still stings, and the marks from the cattle prod are fucking sore. My whole body aches and pulses with pain, despite being unconscious for fuck knows how long I’m fucking exhausted. But like Hell I’ll fall asleep again, every time I do shit goes to Hell.

My wrists ache from my being in the tight hold of the handcuffs for so long and I can see the rope burns across my body from last night. What I wouldn’t give for some chicken nuggets and a shower. 

The door opens again and Chris appears with a few towels and clothes. He sets them down on the bed and walks over to me.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” I snap.

“So you don’t want me to uncuff you?” He challenges.

“Fine,” I relent.

He pulls out the key from his pocket and unlocks the handcuffs and picks me up off the bed. I tense up, not ready to trust him again. He has a way of messing with your head that I don’t want to experience again.

He sets me down on the bathroom counter and runs his hand through my hair, his gaze softening. “You’re still just as beautiful as when we met.” He compliments.

“I know, it’s not like I’ve been sitting here getting ugly.” 

He sighs, “You still have that same mouth too, that same one that gave me the best blowjob of my life that night.”