𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 |Taelisa|✓

11|Possessiveness|

LISA POV

I awoke bathed in sunlight, my body aching with a pain that seemed to linger from the night before. Confusion washed over me as memories of last night flooded my mind. He treated me like a doll, yet his demeanor was animalistic, leaving me with a mix of sensations I couldn't comprehend.

The internal conflict raged within me as Taehyung's touch lingered, his words echoing in my mind. "Your fear only fuels my desire. You belong to me now, and I expect obedience." The intensity in the air was suffocating as his firm grip persisted. My resistance met with unyielding strength.

In the quiet recesses of my mind, a storm of thoughts brewed. "How can I enjoy his touch?" The question lingered, a whisper of conflicting desires tugging at my conscience. The turmoil within me exposed vulnerabilities that I grappled to comprehend.

"Why am I being so toxic, even to my innermost thoughts?" I mused, attempting to dissect the internal struggle. The awareness that Taehyung was manipulating my mind loomed large. I understood that he believed he could break me, but a spark of defiance ignited within me—I was determined not to let him.

"But how can I protect my own body?" I questioned myself, a plea for self-preservation in the face of his overwhelming dominance. The promises he made when he touched me were haunting, and the prospect of begging him was something I vehemently resisted.

As I wrestled with these conflicting emotions, a resolve to assert my freedom flickered within me. I grappled with the unsettling dance of desire and defiance, aware that navigating Taehyung's intricate web would require a delicate balance—one that safeguarded both my physical and emotional well-being.

The hysteria in my room served as a visual reminder of the forbidden encounter. Among the scattered items, I noticed a package and the remnants of the tools my stepbrother Taehyung had used on me. The vibrators and handcuffs, now abandoned, hinted at the intensity of my experience.

Examining my wrists, I observed a faint redness, a subtle but tangible mark of the passionate escapade. The conflicting emotions within me created a swirl of guilt and pleasure, a memory etched in the corners of my consciousness. During the aftermath, I grappled with conflicting feelings, unsure how to process the vivid recollections.

Recalling his words, a rush of emotions propelled me out of bed. I swiftly gathered the remnants of the night into the box, my gaze lingering on the handcuffs. The confusion about his actions and my part in the encounter gnawed at me.

Placing the handcuffs in the package, I navigated to my closet, concealing the box with meticulous care to shield it from prying eyes. Surveying the aftermath in my room—the disarray and the ruined bed sheets—I unconsciously bit my lip, a physical manifestation of the inner turmoil that accompanied the memories of that intense night.

I proceeded to tidy up the remnants of our encounter, restoring order to my disheveled room. The memories lingered, making each movement feel deliberate and contemplative. After restoring a semblance of normalcy, I headed to the bathroom, seeking solace in the cleansing ritual of a bath.

Emerging from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, I moved gracefully to my closet. With careful consideration, I selected a dress along with a matching bra and panties. As I dressed, the fabric against my skin seemed to ground me, offering a welcome distraction from the whirlwind of emotions that still echoed in my mind.

Exiting my room, I made my way to the main living room. A scene unfolded there: my stepmother, stepsister Jennie, stepbrother Taehyung, and my father engaged in a discussion within the opulent surroundings. The air hummed with unspoken tension as I navigated through the room, acutely aware of the clandestine events of the previous night casting a shadow over the present moment.