Page 94 of Spark

When it was over, and my body calmed from the high, I felt Darren trail kisses up my abdomen and between my breasts before he exposed that dazzling shark grin of his. “Merry Christmas,” he said, that smile awakening the morning butterflies in my stomach.

“Merry Christmas,” I replied with a heavy breath.

Just then, a knock on the door came, and I felt myself tug against my restraints again.

“Don’t move,” he said with a smirk, bopping my nose before getting up from the bed and heading into the bathroom. I heard the water run for a few seconds before he came out with a pair of sweatpants on and answered the door.

Drawing my legs up to cover myself just in case, I continued to tug at my restraints, hoping they might give just a little, but they never did. It felt like my cuffs were attached to something stringy—rope maybe?

Darren came over to my side of the bed, bringing with him the scent of bacon and cinnamon. He had a silver tray in his hands and set it down on the end table next to us.

“Open your legs, Jaden,” he said, but the tone of his voice, though gentle, left no room for argument. Noticing he’d picked up a napkin, I’d hoped he planned to clean up the mess he’d recently made of me. Biting my lip, I complied, slowing spread my knees and allowing him to clean up his saliva as well as my cum. I gasped from the rough texture of the napkin but felt much better knowing the stickiness was gone, and I was clean. I was still a bit sore from the night before, but I’d forgot it all thanks to the masterful talents of Darren’s tongue.

Once I was clean, Darren disposed of the napkin and turned his attention back to the tray.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Well, I just had my breakfast,” he said with a smirk. “It’s time you had yours.”

“Breakfast in bed, huh?”

“That’s right.”

Lifting the lid, my mouth instantly watered at the sight of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, French toast, and a small bowl of raspberries. There was also a cup of green tea and a glass of orange juice. Darren speared a few scrambled eggs with the fork and brought it over to my mouth.

“Open,” he said.

“Oh, come on! You don’t have to force feed me. I’ll eat, I promise,” I whined.

“Open. Your. Mouth,” he reiterated, that glare quickly becoming uncompromising.

I sighed and finally opened my mouth to accept the eggs. I chewed quickly so I could speak again.

“Do I have to be restrained to eat my breakfast?”

“I don’t know, do you?” Darren asked as he brought the fork speared with a small cutout of French toast to my lips. I took it between my lips without hesitation.

“I don’t think so,” I answered, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“If you can get through half of it, I’ll let you up.”

I sighed in defeat. It was the best I was going to get. So I opened my mouth to accept the next several delicious bites without complaint. It didn’t take long before I could feel myself getting full, but I wanted the fuck out of these bonds like now.

“Okay, I’m satisfied for now,” Darren declared and pulled his phone out of his pocket to unlock my cuffs.

Sliding my arms down, I sat up, rolling my shoulders and stretching my arms forward until my spine cracked. Darren popped a raspberry in his mouth and then stood.

“I’m going to take a shower. When I get back, I expect everything to be gone,” he ordered and then kissed me on top of the head before walking over toward the bathroom.

“Everything?” I reiterated loud enough so he could hear me. I still had a lot of work to do.

“Everything,” he answered and then shut the bathroom door behind him.

“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath.

I finished off the bowl of raspberries easily enough, chomped down the last strip of bacon, polished off the small portion of remaining scrambled eggs, but I was seriously hitting the wall trying to finish the last bit of hash browns and two small cut pieces of French toast. The stress of my captivity had been making my stomach shrink since the beginning, and my time on the island with a broken jaw didn’t help much. Darren was obviously trying to rectify that.

When he finally emerged from the shower fifteen minutes later, I still had the French toast left. He walked over with a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets still fresh as they dripped down his chest. He smelled impeccable. He’d shaved and combed his hair to the side so that it swept a little over his brow.

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