Page 98 of Dangerous Beginnings

But even amid my panic, there’s a perverse thrill coursing through my veins, a dark excitement that ignites a fire within me.Arousal.

Aslanov’s grip tightens slightly and when he sees my struggle it loosens again, allowing me to draw in a ragged gasp of air. My lungs burn with the effort, my chest heaving as I struggle to fill them with precious oxygen. But before I can fully catch my breath, his hand tightens once again.

He is playing with me.

And yet, despite the danger and uncertainty that lurks in the shadows, there’s a part of me that revels in the sensation, that craves the exhilarating rush of adrenaline that courses through my veins, that craves him. Amid my struggle, there’s a twisted pleasure to be found, a dark ecstasy that binds me to him in ways I can’t comprehend.

His voice is low and menacing as he leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Do you crave my touch, even as you tremble in fear?”

I want to deny it, to scream out in protest and defiance, but his touch betrays me, igniting a fire within me that I can’t extinguish.

“Yes,” I whisper without air, unable to look him in the eyes.

With one swift motion, his free hand pushes two fingers into me, sliding in and out with ease. As his fingers delve deeper, my body responds with urgency, every nerve alight with pleasure. I arch my back, pressing against him, desperate for more of his touch. He only tightens his grip on my throat. His movements are relentless, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasycoursing through me.I can’t fucking breathe.

I can feel the tension building, coiling tight in the pit of my stomach, as his fingers work their magic. With each stroke, he pushes me closer to the edge, until I’m teetering on the brink of release. He adds another finger. Sensations overwhelm me, my breaths coming in ragged gasps as I surrender to the pleasure coursing through my veins. My mind is a haze of euphoria, consumed by the sheer intensity of the moment.

And then it happens, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over me, sweeping me away in its relentless embrace. I cry out, my body convulsing with the force of my climax, every muscle tensed with the sheer intensity of the sensation. In that moment of ecstasy, he leans in close, his voice a seductive whisper against my ear. “That’s a good girl, Isabella,” he murmurs, his words dripping with satisfaction. “Let go. Give in to me.”

Chapter 53

The Inevitable Happens

Isabella

What have I done, what are we doing? What is he doing to me? Why do I feel this way? And why on earth did it feel so good?

With deliberate movements, he crouches down beside me, coming on the same eye level. He reaches out for my cheek, and his touch is gentle as he reaches out to soothe my trembling form.

“Easy now, Isabella,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, cutting through the haze of my panic. “Breathe with me.” His hand rests lightly on my shoulder, offering a grounding touch. I try to inhale and exhale.

His dominance is evident in his commanding presence, yet there’s an underlying sense of care and understanding in his actions. He’s in control, but he’s also attuned to my needs, he stopped and listened to my request.

As my breathing steadies, Aslanov continues to exude a calming presence. With a steady hand, he brushes a lock of hair away from my face, his touch feather-light yet grounding.

His features are strong and angular in the darkness of the moonlight, his eyes dark and intense as they meet mine with unwavering sincerity. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice a warm rumble that resonates with understanding and concern. I nod as I swallow.

Aslanov suddenly lifts me effortlessly, bridal style, his strength apparent as he carries me towards the bathroom. The cabin fills with the sound of running water, and soon, steam curls into the air, creating a soothing atmosphere that contrasts sharply withthe chaos of the night. The bathroom is beautiful and cozy. He sets me down on the counter before checking the temperature of the shower. Aslanov finds a comb and begins the tender task of detangling my hair. His touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the man only ten minutes ago.

It’s in this moment, that the complexity of his character begins to reveal itself—a man capable of both heartlessness and gentleness. But I come to realize I’m just as complex.

As he works through the last of the tangles, his gaze shifts to my wrists. The harshness of the zip ties has left its mark, my skin raw and bruised from my struggles.

His expression tightens a flicker of regret or perhaps anger crossing his features. With a tenderness that surprises me, he reaches out and presses his hot lips to my wrist.

My mouth open but no words.

Aslanov

I lift Isabella into my arms and carry her toward the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing through the empty cabin. The shower is spacious, the steam rising in billowing clouds as I lower her underneath the spray.

As I brush her hair and overlook her state, a whirlpool of emotions churns within me. The stark contrast between her fragile, injured state and the resilience she’s shown strikes a chord deep in my heart. It’s a sensation I hadn’t anticipated, a blend of admiration and an unsettling concern that I find difficult to place.

Each time my hands brush against her skin, a pang of something akin to guilt twinges inside me. I caused bruises.

I’ve seen and caused much suffering, yet her pain feels personal as if each mark on her skin is a tally against my soul. I feel bad for the harm I inflicted on her. And I never feel bad. Besides this is the smallest harm I’ve inflicted in my work field.

The silence between us is heavy, loaded with words unspoken and questions unasked. I’ve never felt a primal hunger this strong before for someone. Her reliance on me for comfort and safety twists at my insides. Yet she responds to my darkness. She craves it. It’s a responsibility I never wanted, yet now that it’s thrust upon me, I find myself unwilling to cast it aside.

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