FIFTY SHADES OF JEON || BOOK 2 JIKOOK ✅ (18*)

9

JIMIN POV

I gaze in horror at the red marks all over my chest. Hickeys!

I have hickeys!

I am married to one of the most respected businessmen in the United States and he's given me goddamn hickeys.

How did I not feel him doing this to me? I flush.

The fact is I know exactly why—Mr. Orgasmic was using his fine-motor sexing skills on me.

I gape at my reflection.

My wrists have a red welt around them from the handcuffs.

No doubt they'll bruise.

I examine my ankles more welts.

Holy hell, I look like I've been in some sort of accident.

I gaze at myself, trying to absorb how I look.

My body is so different these days.

It's changed subtly since I've known him, I've become leaner and fitter and my hair is glossy and well cut.

My nails are manicured, my feet pedicured, my eyebrows threaded and beautifully shaped.

For the first time in my life, I'm well groomed except for these hideous love bites.

I don't want to think about grooming at the moment.

I'm too mad.

How dare he mark me like this, like some teenager.

In the short time we've been together, he's never given me hickeys.

I look like hell.

I know why he's done this.

Damn control freak. Right!

I stalk out of the en suite bathroom and into the walk-in closet, carefully avoiding even a glance in his direction.

Slipping out of my robe, I pull on my sweatpants and a camisole.

I undo the braid, pick up a hairbrush from the small vanity unit, and brush out my tangles.

"Jimin." Jungkook calls and I hear his anxiety. "Are you okay?"

I ignore him.

Am I okay? No, I am not okay.

After what he's done to me, I doubt I'll be able to wear any beach wears for the rest of our honeymoon.

The thought is suddenly so infuriating.

How dare he?

I'll give him are you okay.

I seethe as fury spikes through me.

I can behave like an adolescent, too!

Stepping back into the bedroom, I hurl the hairbrush at him, turn, and leave though not before I see his shocked expression and his lightning reaction as he raises his arm to protect his head so that the brush bounces ineffectively off his forearm and onto the bed.

I storm out of our cabin, bolt upstairs and out on deck, fleeing toward the bow.

I need some space to calm down.

It's dark and the air is balmy.

The warm breeze carries the smell of the Mediterranean and the scent of jasmine and bou-gainvillea from the shore.

The Fair Lady glides effortlessly through the calm co-balt sea as I rest my elbows on the wooden railing, gazing at the distant shore where tiny lights wink and twinkle. I take a deep, healing breath and slowly begin to calm.