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Isabella tosses and turns, the covers bunching up around her legs.
As I drift closer, I realize she is drenched in sweat and breathing uneasily. Hastily, I throw the knife into the nearest drawer and climb onto the bed. Isabella cries out louder now, muttering my name over and over like some kind of plea. I gather her into my arms and bury my face in her hair. But Isabella is no more aware of me than she is of anything else.
Over and over, she pleads with me, each word like a knife through my heart.
How am I supposed to help her fight enemies I can’t see?
I continue to hold her to me, pressing light kisses to the back of her neck, the side of her face, and every other patch of skin I can. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Isabella goes slack, although her breathing still remains uneven. I lay her down on the mattress carefully and tuck her into my side. My hand moves from the back of her neck to the small of her back, and I wait.
Slowly, Isabella rises from her stupor, and I feel her eyes on the side of my face. “What happened?”
I squeeze her shoulders. “Nothing to worry about, dove. Go to sleep.”
Isabella sighs, and it takes her a while to fall back asleep. I stare at the ceiling the entire time and wonder what’s going to happen next. Is she ever going to be able to look at me without seeing what I’ve turned her into?
What my life has forced her to become.
Little by little, my eyelids grow heavy until I flip onto my side and curl up against Isabella’s back. When sleep finally comes, I welcome it open with arms.
In my dreams, Isabella and I are on a deserted beach. The afternoon sun is high in the sky, and there is nothing but clear blue skies overhead. Isabella is in a two-piece red bikini, showing off every curve and every inch of her smooth, unblemished skin.
When she smiles at me, something in my stomach tightens.
I pull her onto my lap, and she wriggles against me. “What if people see?”
“There’s no one else here, dove,” I reply with a smirk. “Nothing else matters.”
With that, I untie the string on the back of her bikini, allowing her breasts to spill forward. Her breath hitches in her throat, hunger playing out across her features. She links her fingers over my neck and rubs herself against me. I growl and lower my head, taking one nipple between my teeth.
Isabella’s answering moan reverberates inside of my head. She fumbles with the waistband of my swimming trunks when I move onto the other nipple. I lick and suck and flick them until they’re both as hard as pebbles.
Abruptly, I stand up and push the swimming trunks down to my ankles. Isabella is still in her bikini bottoms, so I get down on my knees and use my teeth to remove them. With a smirk, I stand back up and admire her, her beautiful and tanned body on display.
“Lie down on the sand,” I tell her in a tight voice. “And hold your hands up over your head.”
Isabella licks her lips and does as she’s told, a flicker of impatience moving across her face. Using her bikini, I tie her hands together and give them a firm tug. She is panting now, the smell of her juices nearly driving me crazy. I run my fingers down the length of her body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in my wake.
Fuck. How is it that I can’t get enough of her?
She arches her back off the ground when my fingers find their way between her thighs. Isabella’s head falls to the side, and she moves her legs. When she tries to wrap them around my waist, I move away and flip her onto her front. Her ass hangs in the air, and she is completely at my mercy as I glance over at our belongings. Finding a belt there, I wrap it around my hand, my pulse quickening in anticipation.
She is mine. Every single part of her.
And I am going to make sure she remembers.
“Carter,” Isabella pleads in a thick voice. “What’s happening?”
“That’s not my name,” I remind her, pausing to give her ass a firm squeeze. “What are you supposed to call me?”
Isabella makes a low, choked sound.
I slap her ass again, harder this time. “I can’t hear you.”
“Sir.” Isabella gasps out, her tender flesh turning a bright shade of red. “Please, sir.”
I use the belt to hit her ass, and the sound of it makes me feel better. “Not yet. You need to learn that I’m the one who’s in control here. Not you, and when I tell you to fucking do something, I expect to be obeyed.”
Isabella twists her head to look at me, her eyes wide and unflinching. “Yes, sir.”
