Page 59 of Isabela

Something dies inside of me as I realize how bad this is. No one knows where I am, except this man here, and by his grin and the knife he’s holding in his hand, he plans to take everything from me.

“I guess we are,” I say mildly. “Is my first time going to happen while tied up?”

I’m banking on Lily not telling him about my relationship with Gael. Charles wants a virgin, and it would have been in her best interest to perpetuate that lie.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs standing. His pants do nothing to hide his erection, and I’m freaking out. There are little white dots flying around in my peripheral vision, sparkles warning me that my blood pressure is high.

I don’t think there’s anything I can do about this, though, so my body’s warnings are going to have to take a backseat.

Goosebumps cover my body as the air conditioner pumps cold air into the room and Charles almost lovingly touches my skin with the point of the knife. It’s gentle, but the damn thing is so sharp, my skin still splits a little, allowing blood to bead up as he drags it down my body.

“I want to fuck every one of your holes,” he says darkly. Charles slips his knife under my bralette, and the lace opens as if by his command. My chest starts to heave as I lift my head to watch him, even as I choose to hold my breath to keep him from cutting me again. “I’m paying your uncle a pretty penny, so I want to fully enjoy my purchase.”

I want to scream at him that I’m not his possession, he can’t just buy a person, but it’s clear he did.

Charles Markship owns me right now. The problem is, I’m not the same girl I was when my uncle beat me in front of his dispassionate eyes.

Nowhere near it.

The lace continues to rip open under the sharp edge of his knife as if it’s paper, and Charles looks up at me in annoyance.

“Breathe, you stupid girl,” he yells, backhanding me. “I can’t have you passing out before the good parts.”

I gasp as my head snaps back, taking in a huge breath before he yanks his knife up the rest of the material. My breasts spill out of the bralette, and he squeezes one roughly as I wince.

Charles wants me to be an active participant in what he’s doing. I was a fool to think I’d be able to escape into my memories of my time with Gael and Aria to get away from him.

It’s no fun to break someone who isn’t reacting to your ministrations.

Charles twists my nipple hard, pulling a strangled scream from my throat. I want to stay silent, I don’t want to give him what he wants, but he knows exactly how to hurt a woman.

“Yes, that’s what I want, Isabela. My cock is so hard right now. Scream again for me, and then I need you to choke on my fat dick,” he groans.

Since my first was Gael, I think Charles is wildly overestimating the size of his cock right now. I stay silent until he cuts off my thong, and he glares at the tiny panties.

“I’m going to pretend you knew you were going to see me today, and that’s why you’re wearing these, little whore,” he snaps at me. His eyes travel down my body until he moves to enjoy the view between my legs. I feel so exposed, unable to close my thighs, even as I attempt to.

“Good girl. There’s the modesty I was needing,” Charles coos. His fingers hold my pussy open to him as he examines me. “So pretty. You’re going to be wet and tight for my cock, aren’t you baby?”

“Yes… yes, Sir,” I lie. I have to get him to cut me loose from my bonds. I need…

I’m spiraling in panic when he slaps his palm against my pussy hard, making me yelp. “Again,” he grunts, slapping me again.

“Ahh!” I yell. I’m in shock. Out of everything he thought to do to me, I don’t know what to make of this.

Charles mutters to himself as he rubs the back of his neck. The slaps help me to center myself, distance myself from the panic. I make myself continue to inhale and exhale slowly, because I need to stay as calm as possible.

“I wanted to take this slower, girl, but I can’t. I want to fuck your throat, feel you swallow around my cock,” he says. Charles unbuckles his belt and opens up his pants, pulling out his veiny cock as he strokes it.

While it’s on the thick side, it’s definitely not something to write home about. Mind racing, I struggle to imagine what he would want me to do next.

“Do you want me tied up for this?” I ask, eyes wide. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never…”

His smirk tells me I said something right as he moves to pull a chair across the room. The squeal of the legs against the concrete floor makes me cringe, and I can tell the bastard is doing it on purpose.

“If you’re a very good girl, I’ll keep you for myself. It’s just us, but my sons are jealous and want to help me break you in. If I cut you loose will you get on your knees willingly?” Charles asks.

A part of me dies a little as I see him play with the knife as he waits for my answer. I’m fucked if I stay tied up in this bed, and my odds are better if I have a chance at his blade.

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