"I hate you." My voice cracks as I tell him.
His feet stop at the door.
I clutch the bedsheet tightly around my chest as he turns around with an emotionless face.
"Then there will be a lot of hate fucking between us." A smirk curve his lips as his g...
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His personal whore.
This is what I am now. A mere pleasure puppet in the hands of a manipulator.
I am crushed under his touch, his dominance, and his scent doesn't seem to leave me. Like he has marked me with his tainted soul, turning me into Black like him.
"Burning my breakfast again, baby?" Dakota suddenly asks with a flick of curiosity in his voice. My eyes open up and I see the burning egg in the over-heated pan.
Without thinking, my hand reaches out to grab the handle and instantly, a gasp escapes my mouth as I feel a sharp pain shooting through my fingers while I burn myself.
"Fuck, Emara!" Dakota bites back a growl as he quickly rushes to my side, clutches my hand with a pained expression on his face, as if it burned him more than me.
Although the scorching sensation in my fingers is intense, it feels like a mere pinch compared to the excruciating pain throbbing in my chest. It's as if a thousand daggers piercing through my heart all at once, leaving me feeling completely lifeless inside and out.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Dakota's voice rises with anger as he holds my burnt hand and leads me to the sink. Cold water rushes down onto my fingers, but I feel could hardly feel my body reacting to the pain as if it long ago turned into dust.
"I didn't know you were stupid enough to hold the pan directly!" He scolds me in a tone laced with deep concern while he keeps my fingers under the running water. But all I could imagine is him holding my head under the water as I scream for air.
"Sit here." Dakota instructs me while he frantically rummages through the fridge with distressed movements. Like a slave, my body complies with his command and I find myself seated on a high stool.
Instantly, coldness pricks my bare ass from the bottom, reminding me that I am naked and exposed like a common slut. Being stripped down and used for someone else's pleasure.
"You seriously need to stop torturing yourself." Dakota tells me as he returns with a bowl of ice cubes. "That's my job." He mocks me with a grin, but I still feel like I am under water, unable to understand his words.
Green eyes stare at me for a moment before he picks a frozen cube and with gentle hands, he rubs it on my burnt fingers. I blankly stare at the melting piece of ice, the pain seems to numb away slowly, while the ache in my chest remains constant.
"Don't worry. I won't put it anywhere else." Dakota smirks looking at me as he taunts me of the time when he pushed an ice cube inside of me.
But his smile soon fades away as he gets no smart comment back from me. I am too dead to find any humour in my luckless life.
As far as I could see, there is only blackness and emptiness in my life, devoid of any glimmer of light or hope on the horizon. It's as if I am trapped in a never-ending darkness, with no escape in sight.
