°♡˖꒰Author's꒱˖♡° POV
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The morning light filters into the penthouse with an unforgiving clarity, revealing the quiet aftermath of a night driven by Keifer's relentless, beast-like jealousy.
The morning begins with his possessiveness still in full force. He wakes before her, his arms locked around her in a restrictive, heavy embrace that leaves no room for movement. He remains buried deep inside her, a constant, unyielding anchor that claims her space even in the stillness of dawn.
His gaze is fixed on her sleeping face, dark and watchful, as if he's waiting for any sign that she might still be thinking of the world outside.
However, as she begin to stir, reality suddenly hits him. The dark cloud of his jealousy finally begins to lift, and he sees her—not as a territory to be defended, but as the woman he loves more than anything.
He notices the way her body is still shivering, even in sleep, a physical echo of the hours of overstimulation. He remembers the sound of her voice—no longer moaning in pleasure, but begging him to stop, sobbing his name in a desperate plea for a mercy he refused to give.
The memory of her "please, Keif, I can't take anymore" hits him like a physical blow, shattering his defensive walls.
His expression fractures, the cold, possessive mask falling away to reveal a raw, hollowed-out regret.
He looks at the marks his fingers left on her hips, the reddened skin of her wrists, and the way she flinch even in her dreams. The realization that he pushed her far beyond her limits—all because he couldn't stand the thought of another man's hand on her waist—leaves him breathless with self-loathing.
He doesn't pull away immediately; instead, he softens his hold, his touch turning from a cage into a desperate, silent apology.
He stays exactly where he is, but the energy has shifted from dominance to a fragile, heartbreaking need for forgiveness.
ᕙ༼Jay Jay's༽ᕗPOV
As the first rays of sun hit my face, my eyes fluttered open, but my mind was still trapped in the haze of that never-ending night.
I felt Keif shift behind me I feel peace. The heavy, anchoring weight I'd felt for hours began to pull away as he tried to slowly, carefully remove himself from my core.
The moment he moved, a sharp, white-hot flash of pain lanced through me. My body was so raw, so overextended from the hours of his relentless, jealous pace, that even his exit felt like a new violation of my senses.
I didn't even have time to fully wake up before the sob broke out of my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, fat tears leaking out instantly, soaking into the pillow. I was shivering, my muscles so fatigued they were twitching uncontrollably.
Every inch of me—from my bruised hips to my oversensitized core—ached with a dull, throbbing heat that made it hard to breathe.
"Jay? Princess, look at me," Keif's voice was different now—no longer the beast, but hollow and thick with a sudden, crashing realization.
I couldn't look at him. I just curled into a ball, my knees pulling up toward my chest as I let out another broken, jagged cry.
The memory of the night—the rough thrusting, the way he ignored my pleas to stop, the sheer duration of it—flooded back, and I felt so small.
I wasn't just crying because of the physical sting; I was crying because the man who promised to protect me was the one who had pushed me until I broke.
I felt his hands reach for me—hesitant now, trembling—but I flinched. I couldn't help it. The instinct to pull away from the touch that had been so punishing for the last several hours was stronger than my love for him in that moment.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and for the first time, I heard his voice crack with genuine horror. "God, Jay... I'm so sorry. I didn't... I lost my mind."
The sound of his voice, so full of self-loathing, made my heart ache even through the throbbing pain. I forced myself to take a shallow breath, my body still trembling as I felt him hovering there, paralyzed by the sight of my tears.
"I'm okay, Keif," I whispered, my voice sounding small and fragile, even to my own ears. I reached back blindly, my fingers finding his hand and giving it a weak, reassuring squeeze.
"I'm not upset. I know why... I know you love me. I'm not mad at you."He let out a shaky, broken breath, leaning his forehead against the back of my neck, but he didn't move closer. He seemed terrified to even brush against me now.
"I just..." I choked back another small sob, trying to still the shivering of my legs. "I just want to stay untouched for a while. Please. I just want to lie here like this... and not be touched."The silence in the room was heavy with the weight of the night.
Keifer stayed perfectly still, his presence behind me no longer a cage, but a silent, grieving sentinel.
He didn't try to pull me into his arms or kiss away the tears; he respected the boundary I had to set. He stayed close enough for me to feel his warmth, but far enough that I could finally feel like my body belonged to me again.
"Anything," he rasped, his voice thick with a mix of relief and lingering horror at his own actions. "Whatever you need, Jay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, but I won't touch you. I promise."
We stayed like that for a long time, the morning sun climbing higher. I just needed the world to be still, to let the fire in my nerves cool down. For the first time in hours, there was no demand on my body, only the quiet, heavy atmosphere of a man who realized he'd almost broken the thing he loved most.
The sharp, sudden trill of my phone on the nightstand sliced through the heavy silence of the room. We both jumped.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I saw the caller ID: Papa.
Keif's entire body went rigid. He didn't move to touch me, remembering my plea, but I could feel the tension radiating off him. He looked at the phone, then at me, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and the lingering protective instinct that had started this whole mess.
I cleared my throat, trying to mask the shakiness in my voice as I answered.
"Hello?"
"Jay? Where are you?" My father's voice was stern, the tone he used when he was already losing his patience. "Keifer was supposed to bring you straight home hours ago. I've been calling his men, and no one is giving me a straight answer."
I looked at the ceiling, biting my lip as a fresh wave of soreness throbbed through my hips. I could feel Keif watching me, his jaw tight, his hands clenched in the sheets.
"I'm fine, Dad," I said, forcing a calm I didn't feel. "We... we got caught up. There was a lot to discuss about the evening. I'm okay, really."
"You don't sound okay," he countered, his suspicion flaring. "Is Keifer there? Put him on."
"No, Dad, he's... he's getting the car ready," I lied quickly, my eyes meeting Keifer's. "I'm just finishing up. I'll be home in one hour. I promise. I just need a little time to get ready."T
here was a long, heavy pause on the other end.
"One hour, Jay. Not a minute more. Or I'm sending security to his hotel."
"I'll be there," I whispered and hung up.The silence that followed was deafening. I stayed curled up, the phone clutched to my chest.
One hour.
I had sixty minutes to somehow pull myself together, hide the marks, and walk into my father's house as if the last few hours hadn't happened.Keifer finally spoke, his voice barely a shadow of its usual strength.
"I'll get you home, Jay. I'll make sure he doesn't suspect a thing. I... I'll carry you to the shower." He paused, his hand hovering inches from my shoulder, waiting for permission. "Can I?"
I turned my head slightly on the pillow, my eyes meeting his. The raw, jagged pain in his expression was almost harder to see than the physical ache in my body. He looked like a man who had lost his soul, his hand still trembling as it hovered in the air, terrified to even graze my skin.
"Keifer," I whispered, my voice soft but steady. "I'm not a stranger. I'm yours. You don't have to hesitate."
He let out a choked sound, his eyes glistening with unshed tears."I just need to feel like myself again for a while," I continued, reaching out to gently touch the back of his hand, letting him know it was okay to close the distance.
"I love you. I know you didn't mean to hurt me... I know the jealousy just took over."The guilt seemed to pour out of him as he finally let his hand settle against my cheek, his touch so light it was like a breeze.
"I love you more than anything in this world, Jay. That's why I lost it. The thought of him... the thought of anyone even thinking they could take you... it turned me into a beast."
He leaned down, pressing a lingering, feather-light kiss to my forehead, his breath hitching.
"I'll never let that happen again. I'll never let my head go to that dark place. I promise."
"Don't do promise,I know," I said, offering him a small, tired smile. "But right now, I need to get home before my father sends a literal army here. Can you help me? Just be gentle."
"I've got you," he breathed, his movements turning incredibly tender as he began to help me sit up, his strength now used entirely to support me. "Whatever you need. We'll take it one step at a time."
Keifer moved as if he were carrying the most fragile glass in the world. He lifted me with a tenderness that was the polar opposite of his earlier intensity, his face pale as he muttered an apology with every single step toward the bathroom.
"I'm so sorry, Jay. I'm so sorry, princess. I'm a monster," he whispered, his voice cracking.Despite the throbbing ache, a small, tired laugh bubbled up in my chest.
"Keifer, stop," I giggled weakly, wincing as the movement pulled at my sore muscles. "You're going to apologize us into the next century. I'm okay. You're not a monster, you're just... a very jealous man."
He didn't laugh back. His expression only darkened with guilt as he set me down on the edge of the marble tub. He turned on the warm water, his movements mechanical and stiff.
But as he began to help me out of the silk sheets he'd wrapped me in to carry me, he finally saw the full extent of what he had done.The steam from the shower began to fill the room, but the air felt frozen.
Keifer's hands stopped mid-air, his eyes wide with horror as he cataloged the marks of his "beast."He saw my swelled breasts, still sensitive and heavy from hours of his attention.
His gaze dropped to my wrists, where the dark red imprints of his "iron manacle" grip were Stark against my pale skin.
On my waist and navel, the deep purple marks from where he had claimed me with his teeth and fingers looked like a map of his possession.
But it was when he looked at my hips and my sore core that he truly broke. The blue and purple bruising from his heavy, relentless thrusting was undeniable.
I tried to stand to get into the water, but a sharp hiss of pain escaped my lips as my legs buckled."Don't move," he rasped, his voice sounding like he'd swallowed glass. He caught me, his touch now so light it was almost non-existent.
"God, Jay... look at what I did to you. I did this. I... I'm going to kill myself."he said I slap him on his cheek
"Keifer, don't dare to say that again," I said, reaching up to cup his face,and slap his cheek lightly, even as I leaned heavily against him for support. "It's happened because I let you do that to me ,you don't force me ,not for a second,It looks worse than it feels. Just help me wash. We have forty-five minutes."
He worked in a stunned, grieving silence, his hands trembling as he used a soft cloth to gently wash over the marks. He wouldn't even meet my eyes, focusing entirely on the task as if he were trying to wash away the memory of the night along with the evidence.
I watched him as he carefully adjusted the high collar of the dress, his fingers trembling like he was handling a piece of ancient, cracked porcelain.
When his eyes dropped to the dark bruises on my thighs, his face crumbled again. He looked so small, so unlike the beast from last night.
"Jay... even with the dress... if he sees how you're walking, he'll know," he whispered, his voice thick with guilt.I reached out, cupping his face to make him look at me.
"Keif, listen. We'll just tell him I tripped and fell while I was rushing to get ready because I was so worried about his call. I hit the edge of the mahogany table. It explains the bruises and why I'm a little stiff. Okay?"
He nodded slowly, his eyes wide and earnest. In that moment, with his hair slightly mussed and his lip caught between his teeth, he looked like a little, handsome kid who had accidentally broken his favorite toy. It was almost cute, how much he was beating himself up.
"Okay," he murmured. "I hit the table... no, you hit the table. I'm... I'm a terrible liar, Jay."
"You're a great liar when it comes to business," I teased, trying to lighten the heavy air. I leaned in and kissed him deeply, my lips lingering on his.
He froze. He didn't pull away, but he didn't lean in either. He looked genuinely scared, as if even the pressure of a kiss might make me shatter into a thousand pieces. It frustrated me—I didn't want him to be afraid of me.
"Keifer, look at me," I said, pulling back just an inch. "I am not fragile. I survived you last night, didn't I? I'm still here. I'm still yours."
To prove it, I took his large, warm hand and firmly placed it back on my waist, right over the purple marks he'd left.
I felt him flinch, but I held his hand there, forcing him to feel the heat of my skin."I love you," I whispered, then pulled him back down for another kiss, one that was more demanding, showing him that I wasn't going anywhere.
He let out a shaky breath into my mouth, his fingers finally curling slightly into my waist, not with the bruising grip of a beast, but with the desperate squeeze of a man who realized he was being given a second chance.
"I don't deserve you," he breathed against my lips.
"Probably not,you deserve only love" I smiled, stepping back to check my reflection one last time. "But you're stuck with me. Now, let's go act like I'm a clumsy girl who can't walk straight because of a table, not because of a very jealous billionaire."
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The walk to the car was a slow, silent procession. Keifer refused to let my feet even touch the floor of the penthouse hallway.
He swept me up in a bridal style carry, his movements so smooth and careful I felt like I was floating. He tucked my head into the crook of his neck, and for a moment, I just breathed him in—the scent of his expensive cologne mixed with the lingering heat of the morning.
When we reached his sleek, black sedan, he didn't just put me in. He lowered me onto the leather seat with agonizing slowness, his hand behind my head to ensure I didn't bump against the door frame.
He adjusted the seat back a few inches so I could lean comfortably, then knelt on the pavement for a second, just looking at me.
"Are you sure?" he whispered, his eyes searching mine. "We could just... tell him the truth. I'll take the heat. I'll let him hit me. Anything is better than making you lie for my mistakes."
I reached out, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer until our foreheads rested together in the quiet of the car's interior.
"And have him ban you from seeing me? No thank you. We're a team, Keif. Even when you're a big, jealous dummy."
A tiny, ghost of a smile finally touched his lips. He let out a long breath, his hand coming up to rest gently on my knee.
"A big, jealous dummy who loves you more than his own heart."
"Exactly," I murmured, leaning forward to press one last, soft kiss to his nose. "Now, get in the driver's seat. We have a performance to give."He nodded, looking more like himself again—focused and protective.
He closed my door with a soft thud and rounded the car, the quiet moment of the car acting as a final buffer before the storm of my father's house.
The front doors had barely clicked shut when Keifer's brain decided to go on a permanent vacation. He stood there, clutching me like I was a sack of fragile gold, sweat dripping down his nose.
Papa, my self obsessed brother, was leaning against the wall with a smirk, while my father, stood like a stone wall in the center of the foyer.
"I didn't do it! The furniture had a motive!" Keifer blurted out, his voice cracking.Percy didn't even have his arms crossed yet. "Keifer, we haven't even—"
"The table was in a massive hurry, sir! A real speed-demon of a desk!" Keifer interrupted, his words blurring into a panicked mess. "It flew! High-velocity aerodynamics! I tried to stop it, but it was too fast. And then—no, wait—I didn't bite her legs! The table bit her legs! It had teeth! Very sharp, mahogany teeth!"
Percy snorted, crossing his arms. "A biting table? Did you forget to feed the nightstand again, Keifer?"
Rosee was already on the case, squinting through her plastic magnifying glass. She circled Keifer like a tiny, relentless shark.
"Detective Rosee is on the case. If the table bit her, why do you look like a big, silly liar, Keif-Keif?"
"I'm not! I mean—" Keifer looked down at me, his eyes glazed and dazed. "She was so tight—no! I mean, the wood! It was a tight fit in the room! And she tasted—no! She felt—I mean, she tasted very good! The air! The air tasted like vanilla and furniture polish!"
Papa's jaw practically hit the marble floor. "She tasted like vanilla, Keifer? You're telling me my daughter is a snack?"
"A gourmet snack, sir! No! A victim! A vanilla-flavored victim of a flying, biting, hurried table!" Keifer wailed, his face turning a shade of red that shouldn't exist.
"The table was very jealous of her shins! I had to wrestle it! I even—I kissed the furniture there! To calm it down! It was rubbish! Total wood-based rubbish!"
Percy started howling with laughter. "You kissed the table, Keifer? Was it a romantic moment before the assault?"
Rosee pointed her magnifying glass at my neck. "Look, Mamma! The flying table left a purple kissy-mark. Does the table have lips too?"
"It's a very romantic piece of furniture, Rosee!" Keifer squealed, backing away so fast he nearly tripped. "It's a French table! Very passionate! I'm going to go put Jay in a room with no wood now! Maybe a plastic tent! Goodbye!"
"Keifer!" Papa growled, reaching for a heavy decorative vase. "Get back here before I turn you into a piece of mahogany!"
"I'm a hero! I tasted the vanilla gas for her!" Keifer screamed, sprinting toward the stairs while still carrying me, his dignity officially dead and buried.
As Keifer practically flew up the stairs with me in his arms, the chaos below didn't stop. Mamma Riceee saw the look on Percy's face—which was somewhere between
"I'm going to commit a crime" and "I need to lie down"—and she immediately sprang into action.
°♡˖꒰Author's꒱˖♡° POV
"Percy! Jasper! Stop looking at the boy like he's a piece of target practice," Mamma Riceee commanded, grabbing both men by their elbows. "What you two need is a very, very strong drink. My special 'Forget the Flying Table' cocktail. Now, to the kitchen!"
Percy was still doubling over, clutching his stomach. "Mamma, did he really say he kissed the furniture? I can't breathe! He's officially lost his mind!"
"He's lost more than that, son,"papa growled, though he allowed Mamma Riceee to lead him away, his eyes still burning a hole in the back of Keifer's retreating head.
"Vanilla... I'll give him vanilla..."But the real trouble was right behind us. Rosee was taking the stairs two at a time, her
'Evidence Notebook'
Clutched in one hand and her plastic magnifying glass in the other. She looked like a tiny, blonde storm of justice.
"Stop right there, suspect!" Rosee squeaked, pointing her crayon at Keifer's heels. "The investigation isn't over! I need to document the 'vanilla gas' and the 'French table' bite marks!"
Keifer reached the top landing and ducked into my room, his face looking like it had been through a blender.
He gently set me down on the bed,kiss my forehead,but he was shaking so hard he accidentally knocked over a small wooden lamp. He jumped back like it had tried to bite him.
"Stay away!" he hissed at the lamp. "I know your secrets!"
"Keifer, stop," I wheezed, clutching my sides as I laughed. "You're making it worse!"
"I can't help it, Jay!" he whispered-yelled, his eyes darting to the door where Rosee was currently scratching at the wood.
"I told your father you tasted like vanilla! I told him I kissed a table! My reputation is gone! I'm going to be known as the 'Furniture Taster' for the rest of my life!"
Suddenly, Rosee's head popped around the doorframe. She licked her pencil and hovered it over her notebook.
"Question one: If the table was in a hurry, did it have a watch?
And question two: Why is Keif-Keif's face the same color as my strawberry jam?"
Keifer was pacing my bedroom floor like a glitching robot, his hands flying everywhere while Rosee sat on my vanity stool, tapping her chin with her magnifying glass.
"Okay, suspect," Rosee narrowed her eyes. "Let's re-enact the crime. When Daddy asked if Jay tastes like vanilla, you said 'Yes.' Then you said 'No.' Then you said 'Gases.' Which is it, Keif-Keif?"
Keifer stopped and stared at her, looking like a deer caught in high-beam headlights. "It was... a conceptual yes! I meant her personality has a hint of bean! Vanilla bean! It's a very sophisticated character trait, Rosee. Very aromatic!"
"And what about the 'tight' part?" Rosee asked, scribbling in her notebook. "You said she was tight. Like a jar of pickles?"
Keifer's face turned a color that can only be described as 'Neon Panic.' "No! The... the schedule! The timeline was tight! We were in a chronological vice! Time was squeezing us, Rosee! It was a very claustrophobic afternoon!"
I bit my lip, trying not to scream with laughter. "And the 'biting the furniture' part, Keif? My father is still downstairs trying to figure out why you're making out with desks."
"I was showing dominance!" Keifer blurred out, his words tripping over each other. "I had to show the table who was boss! I gave it a stern... lip-press! To settle its ions! It's a scientific method of wood-calming! Don't look at me like that, Rosee, it's in the manual!"
Rosee sighed, looking very unimpressed. "Mamma Riceee is right. Your brain is mashed potatoes. I'm listing the cause of injury as 'Extreme Silly-ness' and 'Vanilla Hallucinations.'"Suddenly, per y's voice boomed from the hallway, dripping with sarcasm.
"Hey, Keif! I found a very 'tight' chair downstairs! Do you want to go grab a drink with it, or are you still busy tasting the atmosphere?"
Keifer groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm moving to a desert, Jay. A place with no wood. Just sand. Sand doesn't fly. Sand doesn't taste like vanilla. I'm retiring from society."