Page 45 of Dangerous Beginnings

The Sin Has Been Committed

Isabella

Making my way over to him feels like a descent into the inferno, each step drawing me closer to a fate I can’t escape. The darkness surrounding him pulls me in with an irresistible force, a gravity that consumes my every thought. I’m moving through an abyss, and there’s no turning back once I’ve crossed this threshold. Every inch I crawl feels like a surrender to his dark desires, an acknowledgment of my deep-seated fears and twisted yearnings.

As I inch closer, the fear that grips me transforms into a heady mixture of dread and arousal, an intoxicating blend that makes my skin tingle.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice smooth and taunting.

The praise only deepens the arousal, sending electric shivers through me, and I can’t help but press forward, driven by an overwhelming need to please him despite the fear that chokes me.

Finally, I’m positioned between his legs, close enough to feel the heat of his body. The metal taste of fear lingers on my tongue, but it’s overwhelmed by the shock of raw electricity that courses through me. His presence is overwhelming, a dark, oppressive force that seems to engulf everything around us. He sits in his armchair with an air of indolent authority, one arm draped over the armrest while his other hand leisurely cradles a glass of red wine. His shirt is casually rolled up, exposing hisstrong, tattooed forearms, inked with cryptic symbols and dark designs.

His sharp and penetrating gaze meets mine as he looks down from his elevated position. “Go on,” he commands, his voice a low, seductive drawl with a dangerous edge. His dark green eyes, reflecting the dim moonlight filtering through the room, promise pleasure and punishment intertwined.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to push aside the last remnants of my pride and defiance. “Can I please have your forgiveness?” I ask my voice barely a whisper, trembling with a mix of vulnerability and desperation. The words escape my lips like a plea to some malevolent deity, a supplication that feels both humiliating and profoundly intimate.

A dark, predatory smile curls on his lips, sharp and merciless. “Please who?” he asks, his tone dripping with mockery. The question hangs in the air, taunting me, demanding submission in its purest form.

I stare into his eyes, realizing the cold, unfeeling depths they conceal. He doesn’t care about me—he only cares about what he can extract from me. If I don’t give it willingly, he’ll take it by force. The realization sends a shiver down my spine, and a twisted part of me finds the notion almost tempting. It’s the wine, I tell myself. The alcohol blurs the lines between fear and desire, making my thoughts chaotic and disjointed.

His voice, dark and resonant, sends ripples of tension through my body. “Can I please have your forgiveness, Aslanov?” I manage to utter, the name slipping from my lips with an unsettling smoothness. It feels like a prayer, but one uttered to a devil who holds my fate in his hands. The name feels like a confession, a surrender to a force that I can neither fully comprehend nor resist.

His eyes travel down my body.

“Please Aslanov?” His smirk only grows with every plea I hold,“Please.”

He slowly sets the now empty glass down on the table, leaning closer to me. His cologne fills my nostrils, minty, smoky, and a hint of wine. His hand reaches out, his thumb slowly stroking my cheek. His eyes hold me captive as his embrace fills me from within.

“Please?” My half gasp, half whimper would have been embarrassing had I been in my right mind.

“Are you scared of me Isabella?” I swallow.Yes. “Answer me.”

I whimper as his grip tightens. “Yes.”

“You should be,” he hums at my answer.

The chair scratches against the floor as he stands up. Walking away, before being able to protest, his Russian accent lingers behind me, “Don’t move.”

I sit on the floor waiting, but my impatience and curiosity get the best of me. As I slowly want to turn my head to the side, I get stiff as I hear his voice from the back of the living room: “Do as you’re told solnyshko.”

I freeze in place. Not moving a muscle anymore. Not many minutes later his lips brush against my ear, and shivers run over my body.

“Are you sure you want a monster to touch you?” I hum against his hand that gently runs through my hair, his touch and voice hypnotizing me.

“Yes,” I whisper, barely audible.

“Positive?”

I swallow my rational beliefs. “Yes.”

Aslanov

As soon as the consent leaves her lips, I throw her over my shoulder, making my way towards her bed. I gently but with force throw her onto the bed on her back. Her hands turn into fists, squeezing the bedsheets under her. I roll up my sleevesfurther up, unbuttoning some of my buttons. I retrieve a knife from my back pocket.

Her gasp fills the air of the room as she glances at me. I pull her towards me by her legs, cutting off her pants. Then moving towards her shirt, cutting it open, revealing a black bra with lace details, her panties matching. Naughty girl.

I hover over her, staring at her with my face inches away from her. Her soft pleas fill my ears. It’s the most beautiful melody I have ever heard. “Hands up.” She slowly moves then up, right above her.Such a good girl.

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