𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭| 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 |𝟏𝟖+

Chapter 17 | Whore

Enjoy :*

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Seconds after he leaves I drop down against the counter, bringing my knees together I can feel my eyes tearing up. In no time there are tears streaming down my face.

H-How. . .

How could I have wanted this? What is happening to me? One moment he shouts at me, threatening that he will kill me, the next he's wipping off my tears, cupping my face calling me baby. And I let him do it. Why????

I let myself sob for a few more moments, this rolercoaster of emotions in my head is seriously bothering me. I have to get it out somehow.

"Cali?" I hear familiar voice above. Relief overflows me for I know that this time it is not him.

Immediately I jump back on my feet, quickly wipping of my tears. My eyes meet with Andrei leaning on the counter.

"Oh, h-hello." I fake a smile like nothing happened.

He frowns, looking worried. "Are you alright?" His brown eyes stare at me.

"Yes, of course." I lie, shaking it off.

"But you were clearly crying." He insists. "I saw the boss leaving a couple of minutes earlier, is it connected?"

Of course it is connected. He's been the main reason for my crying since I met him.

I remain silent, trying to somehow get rid of the puffy eyes.

"What's that-" he stops himself his look on my neck "oh" he realizes "those are not bruises are they?" He simphatetically points out.

"No." I confess. "They're not."

"Boss?"

"Please don't ask." I beg. "I want to put it behind me."

He nods like he understands. "I'm sorry this is happening to you."

I am so thankful to have someone nice to speak with, but honestly, why would he be sorry? He doesn't really know me.
"Thank you." I mutter. "Can I ask, why are you being nice to me? Hardly anyone is in this house." I confess.

He shrugs. "Why would I want to be like anyone else?" Good point.

I chuckle, nodding. "Oh" I remember just now "did you want anything from the bar?"

He shakes his head. "No, no" he asures "I'm just patrolling."

"Water then" I offer, grabbing two glasses "I need it too."

*

*

It's around 7pm as I'm laying on my bed, freshly cleaned and dressed into grey sweat pants along with an oversized black hoodie. I've already taken a shower and made sure to scrub all of him off me. My breats, chest and neck are looking like hell. I've never had this many hickeys on me. Ironically I lost my mind over one this morning, pleadging that I would never let him touch me again. Then I came back with at least 8 more. Awful.

"Don't hide those anymore. When I leave a mark I expect it to be seen."

"I'll put some more where only we can see them."

Ughhhhhh! I hate him.

I hate that he can so easily manipulate me into getting what he wants. I doubt that he's caressing and rubbing other girls' faces, calling them baby. Of course he isn't! He just found out that this gentle protective tactic works beautifully on me!

And his nonstop praising, ugh I hate it!

Well, I mean, I love it. THAT'S THE PROBLEM.
I mean seriously, he like fucking prasises me for, I don't know, umm - opening my eyes. Like that's so hard to do! And I'm there already melting, my mind screaming yes Daddy.