2. Isabelle

2

ISABELLE

L uka fucking drugged me.

I get the sense that a significant amount of time has passed since I was sent to get rid of Jarik's human, so I could take her place. Thanks to whatever drugs Luka has been feeding me to keep me compliant, everything is a murky mess inside my throbbing head. Now that I'm slowly coming out of the stupor little snippets of memories are starting to slip through.

Like the nasty wound that nearly took my head Jarik's little human bitch inflicted when she caught me with her mate.

Chains and darkness and pain.

Blood so good I want to drown in it.

Lights. A stage. An auction.

And Luka. Luka has been there through everything. All of it.

This is all his doing. He has been pursuing me ever since he decided that I was his fated mate. Nothing I said or did put him off. He refused to take no for an answer, so when I was injured, he used my moment of weakness to capture me.

He saved you. Healed you.

My heart squeezes painfully. He may have saved me, but he kept me captive and for that I should hate him.

Despite being drenched in darkness, without so much as a glow coming from anywhere, I can see perfectly. I'm a young vampire compared to many others in my coven. I was born just after the turn of the century, as all of us are because it's impossible to turn someone into a vampire despite what fiction and Hollywood claim.

The room I'm in is large. The walls are painted a light color and framed with dark furniture. My wrists and ankles are shackled to a four-poster bed. The chains must be either charmed or made of iron because when I test them there is no give whatsoever and when I try to trace away, nothing happens. At least the bed is comfortable. Although, the duvet is soft and fluffy against my skin. The red of my dress is garish against the bright white bedding.

My ears perk at the approaching purr of a high-end engine followed by the crunch of tires over gravel, telling me I'm no longer in the city. I listen as a car door opens and shuts. The clunk of steps treading across wood— a porch?— followed by off-key whistling and the jingle of keys in a lock.

All of this is happening above me, which means I'm being held in a basement or cellar.

"Izzy, I'm hooome!" Luka calls out in a bad Desi Arnaz accent as he walks through the house above me. His steps thump back and forth above me followed by the clack of porcelain and cutlery. When a door opens, soft light and the scent of Italian food drifts down, followed by his quick steps on the staircase.

"I brought dinner, my love." He flips a switch, and the room explodes into bright light. I hiss and turn my head to the side while my eyes adjust.

"Sorry I'm late, I had to stop by Jarik and Mercy's before ordering from Bellissimo's on the way."

I'm spread out like a sacrifice as he pulls a chair up to the side of the bed. I hope that he can see the hatred in the glare I'm giving him.

If he notices, he ignores it.

"I got your favorite," he says as he sets the plates on the side table and then reaches behind me. Whatever he does puts enough slack in the chains that I can sit up. Which I do, with narrowed eyes, as he props pillows behind me to lean against.

The moment he's within my reach I lunge forward with a hiss and my sharp fangs bared. He manages to evade my bite, just barely. Faster than I expect, Luka's hand snaps out and he wraps his fingers around my throat.

Suddenly, the sweet Luka I'm used to disappears and his beast slips forward to take his place.

"Here is how this is going to work," he says with slow menace. "You are going to eat your costoletta alla Milanese and we are going to talk like civilized adults."

"Fuck you! You drugged me," I hiss, "and chained me to a bed."

Luka's fingers tighten around my throat, claws pricking at my sensitive skin until my pulsing blood pools behind my eyes and he's very close to cutting off my oxygen. His handsome features distort as his beast's growl rumbles past his lips, reminding me that Luka has a deadly other half. Werewolf. The deep sound cuts straight through me and I clench my teeth around a moan that threatens to slip past my lips. My skin tingles, nipples beading, before a dull throb settles deep in my core. I scissor my legs as my pussy floods with desire at seeing him this way. The sweet, easy-going Luka that I'm used to is nowhere to be found and this darker, more dangerous Luka has my heart speeding up and my teeth aching to bite.

"Do you think I want to keep my mate chained in my basement?" he snarls. "You think I'm proud of the fact that I've had to keep you drugged in order to keep you from running from me?"

I swallow against his palm and then kick my chin up, "That says a lot about you, doesn't it?"

"Why do you always have to be such a fucking bitch?" He leans his weight into me, pressing me down into the mattress, holding me there by my throat. "You've forced me to watch you whore yourself to every cock in the factions. Is that how you want me, too? Do you need me to force you? To make you my whore?"

I glare up at him, so I don't let it slip how much his words hurt. Is that what I've really become? A slut for the factions to use.

"It's only fair the male who belongs to you finally gets a turn between your legs. Yeah?" His hand not pinning me to the bed goes to the front of his pants and works open his zipper with quick efficiency. Pulling the front of his pants apart, Luka takes out his thick cock.

I can't seem to drag my eyes away from it and my mouth floods with moisture at the sight of the plump tip glistening with pre-cum. Trying not to moan at the way his fingers barely wrap all the way around his thick girth.

My tongue darts out to wet my lips.

"What a good little kuvra ," a good little whore , "getting wet from the sight of my cock," he smirks and then lets go of himself to ruck up the dress I'm wearing. He's not gentle about it either and I'm not surprised when I hear the rip of fabric as he shoves it around my hips. The way the cool air hits me tells me no one bothered to give me so much as a thong to wear. "Now, spread your legs."

Dragging my eyes away from his bobbing cock, I glare up at him just before snapping my legs shut.

His laugh is harsh, and he lets go of my throat to reach around the back of the bed. A grinding noise rattles the bed just before my arms are pulled up over my head and my legs spread wide, stretching me past the point of comfort.

"Fuck you, Luka," I spit at him.

"Oh, I intend to," Luka promises as he pushes his slacks down thick thighs. Next, he unbuttons his expensive dress shirt and shucks that too. "How long before I have your greedy pussy coming on my cock, Isabelle?"

He climbs between my spread legs and reaches under me, lifting my hips and wedging a pillow under them. This new angle arches my back and puts more tension on my arms and legs. The way I'm spread out, completely at his mercy, has my pussy tingling. I scold myself that I should not be excited about being treated this way. I would never let another male treat me this way, so why does it turn me on so much when Luka does it?

Drawing in a deep breath, Luka's eyes slide shut. Suddenly he falls forward, caging my body with is arms and presses his forehead to mine with a pained groan.

"Why are you doing this, Izzy?" he whispers. Our lips are so close I can feel the warmth of his breath tease them. "Why won't you accept that I'm your mate? Can't you see that I'll do anything to make you happy?"

I don't know how to answer him, because it doesn't matter how he would treat me. It doesn't matter what I want. I've never had a say in who my mate will be, and nothing will change that. Not even the desperate way Luka begs me.

"Mmm, my mouth waters to taste you," he says, breathing deep and running the tip of his nose down mine.

My pussy quivers as his warm scent fills my nose. Forest pine and expensive cologne. "Luka," I moan, squirming at the promise of how good his mouth would feel between my legs. "I want you."

Ignoring me, he notches himself between my legs lines himself up to my pussy.

"I'm going to take this first time for me," he growls, running the head of his cock through my slick folds before teasing my clit and making my hips jump. "I've waited too long, I can't…I can't be gentle. I hope you're as wet as you smell."

Without any other warning, he drives forward. Sheathing himself all the way to the hilt in a single thrust. Filling me up, stretching me in a way no other male ever has. I wasn't going to let him have my reaction, but I can't help the gasp that slips past my lips or the way I arch into him. When I turn my head away, he grabs my chin and forces me to look at him.

"Eyes on me, princeza ." His hips pull back, leaving a burning path until just the head of his cock is holding me open. Then he drives back inside. "Gods, that's it. You feel even better than I imagined."

Each thrust forces a harsh breath past my lips and with it, low, keening moans.

I hate that my body reacts to him. I hate that when his lips curl up in a cruel smile it makes me even wetter.

"You're mine, kurva ! My greedy little slut." His hips pull back and thrusts deep. "That's it, take my cock," he pants. Pounding into me over and over, he hits that spot deep inside that has my back arching and my mouth falling open. "Better get used to this cock, because it's the last one you're ever gonna get."

My head thrashes against the pillow. Tears spring to my eyes at his degrading words that cut and sting and, in a surprising twist, lights a fire deep inside of me . My body takes over my mind as he drives me closer and closer to an orgasm that promises to be unlike any I've had before. I try to reach out. I want to dig my fingers into his wide shoulders and hold him close as he pushes me closer to the edge, but the chains keep my arms stretched over my head.

"Please," I gasp. I'm not sure what I'm asking for. P lease , make me come? Or, please, call me your whore again .

"That's it. Beg me." His arms are braced on either side of my head as he pulls back and snaps his hips forward. In and out, balls slapping against my ass with each plunge. The head of his cock hitting the bundle of nerves deep inside that makes my stomach twist and my mouth go dry.

Curling my fingers around the chains shackling me, I arch up into him. Wanting him deeper. Needing him closer. Sweat prickles across my forehead as soft moans roll off my tongue with each powerful thrust.

"I'm going to fuck you whenever I want to, Isabelle," he promises. "Your cunt, your throat and your ass. You're mine to use when and as I like. I'll keep you tied up like my own little toy. I'll make you pay for all the years you teased me, treated me like a fucking cuckhold."

Each word is punctuated with a slap of his hips. His thrusts bruise the insides of my thighs as he forces them wider so he can drive himself even deeper. And I love it. I love this depraved side of Luka I never knew existed.

A sob escapes from my throat as the first tingle of my orgasm starts low in my belly.

"You're gonna milk every drop of my cum with your slutty cunt while I make you come undone under me," Luka pants. His head kicks back and he groans. "Fuck yeah. That's it, baby."

My core clenches and my pussy clamps down around his cock that's pistoning in and out of me. His dirty talk has me pulsing around him. I had no idea my sweet beast was capable of this kind of harsh domination and hurtful degradation. A wail bursts from my lungs and my eyes roll back in my head with the first crash of my orgasm.

"Did you come this hard for Marcus?" Luka pants in my ear. "What did you have to do to get his crusty dick to weep for you?"

"No," I moan. The mention of my former lover douses me in ice water, but it's too late and I'm already falling off the edge. My hips buck to meet each of his punishing thrusts even as the pleasure falls painfully flat. Forced to ride an orgasm that is no longer twisting me in knots and has lost its momentum.

His head falls forward and his hips pump once… twice… then they press deep as he lashes my womb with ropes of creamy cum. "Such a good girl, take my cum. Milk every drop."

And I do. My greedy cunt sucks him dry.

When we're both spent, he falls forward, catching himself at the last moment before he pushes back. We're both panting when he pulls his softening cock free with a pop and watches as his pearly spend leaks out.

He didn't knot me. The disappointed thought comes unbidden. Then I remind myself that I don't want his beast to knot me. If he knots me, he'll claim me and then I'll be useless to my faction. I'll be trapped with a mate who hates me.

Luka pushes his sandy hair out of his eyes, where it's fallen out of its careful style and rolls off me. After he pulls his pants on, not bothering with his shirt, he reaches behind the bed for the lever that loosens the chains again. While I situate myself, so my dress is back in order and I'm sitting, he pulls the chair back to the side of the bed. He hands me one of the plates he brought and takes the other. The breaded veal is cold and no longer crisp, but I eat it anyway. Starving after the rough sex we just had.

We eat in awkward silence while my mind spins trying to think of how I'm going to escape. My faction must be sick with worry.

When we finish, he collects the plates and cutlery and hands me a bottle of water. I'm just about to ask if I can use the bathroom when he pulls a plastic bedpan out from under the bed.

I stare at the pink basin he sets next to me for a long time before folding my arms across my chest. "I'm not fucking using that."

"Well, I'm not unchaining you. So, you either use it, or you piss the bed and lie in it until I return." Despite his harsh words, his tone is soft, almost apologetic.

"You're being ridiculous. I'm only asking to use the bathroom. I promise I won't try anything," I lie.

He scoffs, "I wish I could believe you, Izzy."

Trying a different tactic, I purse my lips and look up at him from under my thick lashes, "What's your hurry? Loosen these chains and I'll let you fuck my throat, like you said you wanted."

He lets out a heavy sigh and then reaches behind me to tighten the chains again. I notice they aren't so tight this time, leaving me with a little bit of movement. But still not enough to escape from the bed.

"I almost forgot," Luka tosses a pint of bagged blood that lands next to the bedpan. "Dessert."

Even through the thick plastic casing I can smell the ambrosia of the blood inside. I know without asking that it's Luka's and as much as I want to throw it back at him, my hands tremble as I reach for it. I hate that I'm distracted by the blood and the way my mouth waters, anticipating the rich, coppery taste. My fangs ache as I close my eyes, imagining it's his throat I bite instead of the bitter plastic.

To rip it out.

When the first drops hit my tongue, I can't hold back the moans that roll up my throat. I nurse at the pouch with greedy pulls, imagining that I'm curled up against Luka's chest as I feed. That his arms are wrapped around me and that it's his hands that shackle my wrists as I feed from his throat.

Too soon, I've drained it. When I open my eyes, the room is dark again and I'm alone. Luka is gone.