3. ISABELLA

Chapter 3

ISABELLA

I feel instant heat pool in my nether regions when I can all but feel the rich, sexy chuckle rise in his chest in unison with the prominent bulge in his pants. It takes everything I have not to wiggle or squirm to try and dull the pulse I feel as my pussy gets juicy like it's drooling over his cock.

While I may dislike the man, I can't deny how much I want him, but then again, he is the only man I've had sex with, so it's probably natural my body responds the way it does to him. Like a person with an addiction, having had my first exhilarating shot of sex, I want more, and right now, Andrey's the only dealer in town.

I take a few more steps back and bump into the large oak desk as Andrey strides toward me. His eyes are dark with intent. He stops in front of me just far enough that I can feel his heat, but we're not touching. And I so want those hands to touch me, but I'll be damned if I let him know that.

Andrey's eyes hold mine, and it feels like he's trying to see into my soul as he stares at me for what seems like minutes rather than seconds. I can feel my heart racing and my nipples tighten as my body responds to the scent of his intoxicating cologne while I fight to keep from being drawn in by his heated gaze and let down my carefully constructed guard.

Andrey reaches out and runs the back of his hand down my face. "You are so beautiful, Isabella, and I want you by my side as my queen." His voice is deep, soft, and a little hoarse, but there's no doubt about the steel behind them. "Now that my father is stepping down, it means I will be Pakhan. As my wife, you will share in that power and wear the crown with me. So, I need you to understand this, Isabella. Your loyalty and strength are not just desired—they are required."

I keep my emotions in check as best I can while trying to ignore the swelling desire his proximity is causing as I reply. "I understand."

But he's not fucking getting me to stand here and pledge my loyalty to him or the dark, sordid world he lives in. This is not the life I choose, and it's not the life I'd bring a child into because I grew up on the outskirts of this life, and that was bad enough. I can only imagine what a child born into it would go through.

"Why are you being so stubborn, princess?" Andrey doesn't move and holds me with his penetrating stare.

"I have no idea what you mean. I've done what has been required of me," I tell him, raising my brows and putting on my best ignorant look. "I told you I understand, and I do. I'm required to be your queen and stand by your side." I nod. "I don't see how that is being stubborn."

I can't help but glance out the windows at the bright morning outside, and in my mind, I picture him as Dracula about to bite into my neck and make me a part of his dark world where I'll never be able to enjoy the light of day again.

"I'm now part of the dark underworld— your world!" I turn what I hope is a blank stare back at him. "The criminal underworld."

Andrey's eyes narrow as he observes me. "My world?" He gives a soft laugh. "Oh, princess, your father really has kept you in the dark. This isn't just my world. It's our world."

"You don't have to rub it in my face how my father sold me to the devil and betrayed me," I say, raising my chin as I feel the stabbing pain in my heart once again from my father's betrayal. That wound is still extremely fresh, and I don't need salt to be tossed on it to remind me it's still painful. "But this is not my world. While I might be forced to live in it, I will never accept it as such."

Andrey takes a step closer, and now his body is pressing against mine, which like the little horny bitch traitor it is, my body once again feels the instant desire ignite in all my erogenous zones. He takes my chin between his fingers, tilting my head backward to meet his steely ones.

"Sweetheart, whether you accept it or not, it's in your blood." Andrey's words have my eyes widening in bewilderment.

"No," I say, shaking my head while something nags at the back of my mind. A memory I can't wedge out from the tight crack it's been pushed into. "My father may defend the likes of your family and walk on the outskirts of this life you lead, but he is not one of you— I am not one of you ."

For days, I have been wondering about how my father would've benefited from this alliance between my family and the Belovs. It has made no sense to me. I could understand him trying to match me with a rival law firm's son or another wealthy Italian family.

But why promise me, virginity and all, to a Russian mob boss's son? And since I was a toddler—did my father get Ivan Belov to spin fucking straw into gold? Then promise the man his firstborn daughter?

My father's motivations are a mystery to me, but Andrey's intentions are crystal clear. His dark eyes bore into mine. I feel the weight of his desire pressing against me. He's a man who takes what he wants, and right now, he wants me.

"You really don't know, do you, princess?" Andrey's voice is a low, seductive rumble sending shivers down my spine. His hips grind against mine, teasing my aching core. The bastard knows how well he can command my body. "I think it's time you learned the truth about your place in all of this."

Before I can respond, his lips claim mine in a bruising kiss, stealing my breath away. His hands grip my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the desk, and our bodies tangle together. There's a primal hunger in his touch, a commanding possession that makes my head spin.

I know he's making his claim and pressing the point— I'm his to do with as he pleases, and I will obey ! The realization hits me with a rush of both fear and exhilaration—I'm married to Andrey. My mind whirls with confusing thoughts that are spinning off into a black hole. Andrey deepens the kiss, making it hard for me to think.

I am well aware that he intends to claim every inch of me, to make me his in the most intimate of ways. What has me reeling and my mind in a cloud of confusion is this feeling stirring in a dark recess of my soul— I want to obey and be devoured by him .

Andrey's lips trailed down my neck, eliciting a gasp from my parted lips. "You belong to me now, Isabella," he growls, his fingers digging into my flesh. "Until death do us part. And every day for the rest of our lives, I'm going to make sure you never forget it." He nips my ear. "Today was the last time I let you get away with the kind of behavior you displayed at the altar."

My weak flesh betrays me, and I arch into his touch. His hands cup my breasts through my satin gown. This weak part of me wants nothing more than to melt into and accept this as my destiny, to be consumed by the ruthless Bratva boss. His touch has the power to melt away all reason from my brain.

But there is still a part of me that has tasted freedom, even fleetingly, for a couple of hours, and it refuses to let anyone hold my fate in their hands ever again. Not even one as goddamn gorgeous and sexy as Andrey Belov.

He has the power to make me wet, achy, and yearn just by a look of his silvery eyes, but he can't keep in a lust-filled fog twenty-four hours a day. There is still the rational part of me that has tasted freedom and wants more of it.

I keep thinking to myself that Andrey is my first lover. It is a big, wild world out there. I'm sure I'll find someone who lives on the lighter side of life that can make me feel the same way. If not, it will be fun trying to find one.

While I fully intend to regain my freedom, for now, I have nowhere to go, and I am in Andrey's control, so I may as well enjoy another deliciously sinful sexual encounter and let Andrey fuck me into oblivion. I'll get to carry another night of hot passion around with me in my memories as I leave this world behind and gain a bit more experience.

A groan escapes my lips. Andrey kneads each fleshy mound. My head falls back to give his mouth access to the exposed part of my chest where the wedding dress dips low. I can feel my pussy throb to the beat of his every kiss and caress of my boobs, saying goodbye as all rational thoughts start to leave— exit brain right.

Suddenly, the wedding dress feels too tight, and its material is keeping me from feeling his hands on my bare flesh. I want to rip it off, shredding it into pieces like the Hulk bursting out of his clothes.

As if feeling my frustration with the silk and ivory holding me hostage, Andrey pulls the strapless bodice down with one skilled move, exposing my lacy white bra.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, moving the lace aside and exposing my breasts to him, cupped by the scrunched lace, offering them to him. He lowers his head, sucking and giving each tit attention.

"Ahh," I pant, moving my hands into his thick, dark hair and pulling his head closer. "Suck on it harder…" Did I say that? My mind is mush as memories of the first night flood me, and I need to feel that sensation again. "Please, nip just a little." Again—was that me?

Andrey chuckles and obliges. His tongue flicks faster over first my left tit, then he sucks and gently bites on the hardening nub making sure to offer the right one the same attention. The sharp shock of the nip makes me suck in a breath as the sensation zings through my clit.

"Oh fuck." I breathe out. My body is starting to ignite.

While sucking, licking, and nipping my breasts, Andrey starts to slide the satin skirt from my knees up my thighs, stopping at the apex of my legs. Folds of satin drip onto my sensitive nether region. He rubs his thumbs down the crease where my legs flank my pussy which is pulsing in anticipation of his touch while being teased by the satin.

A gasp escapes my lips when Andrey uses both thumbs, sliding them up and down in opposite directions along the folds of my pussy lips. I arch into his fingers, wanting, needing more pressure, feeling like I'm going to explode from all the sensations his mouth and fingers are causing.

I'm whimpering now, and Andrey peels his lips from my breasts, leans in, and kisses me, saying against my lips. "Look at me, Isabella." His voice is a low command.

I bring my eyes to him, sucking in a breath when he applies more pressure down below and allows one thumb to slip inside just enough to graze my clit through the satin and lace. "Do you want this?" I can feel his thumb now teasing my sopping-wet nub.

I swallow and nod, staring into his silver eyes, my breath catching in my throat once again as his hand cups my pussy, and starts an up-down rubbing motion. My hips tilt and undulate in an erotic dance against Andrey's hand, our bodies moving together in a primal rhythm. I bite down on my bottom lip, stifling a moan. His touch ignites a wild craving within me.

Andrey's face moves toward my ear, his breath tickling it as he teases my earlobe. "Tell me," he demands, the deep timbre of his voice creating gooseflesh over my heated skin. "Say, yes, Andrey, I do!"

At this moment, every inch of me is sparking with a desperate need to be touched, to be possessed by him. I ache for the weight of his body, the bruising grip of his hands. I wanted to scream, Yes, Andrey, I do , I want every fucking inch of you. Not only have I seemed to have lost my voice, but the only sounds I can currently make are gasps, groans, or mewls.

"Say it, princess," Andrey demands more forcefully, cruelly stilling his hand on my mound but leaving its warmth to torture me, reminding me of the bliss waiting for me.

"No!" The moan is ripped from my throat. Well, that word formed and popped out rather quickly and breathlessly! "Don't stop. Please don't stop!" Those are the only words forming in my brain at this point, but somehow, I manage to say, "I want you."

As with all my body parts, I seem to have lost control of their actions, and my hands reach out to grip his, and try to get it to move again. Only Andrey catches my wrists and bends my arms painfully behind my back, locking them there with his one hand, his eyes darkening with a flash of cruel enjoyment.

"Oh no, little princess, you don't get to lead. This is my dance. I lead! You follow and do whatever the fuck you're told to do." His eyes flash with something that makes me realize he's enjoying this, bending me to his will.

A shiver runs down my spine. I know I should be angry and try to summon my rage and defiance, but something else is starting to stir within me—just like it did that first night. Andrey pinches my nipple with his free hand, bringing tears to my eyes and making my belly clench and clit pulse, and to my horror, I realize I like the feeling. It's heightening this thing growing inside me that tempts me into the darker side of desire.

Heat spreads through my body, fueling my already agonizing arousal, and I find myself fighting not to beg him to do it again. I'm struggling to comprehend what the fuck is going on with me. This is more than just desire. It's something dark and primal meandering through me, drawn from something dark I never knew existed inside myself.

A knowing curve lifts Andrey's lips—the fucking bastard seems to know what's happening to me. His eyes travel down my burning body. I can feel them as if they were a caress, making me even more acutely aware of every heady sensation coursing through me—consuming me like an out-of-control bushfire.

"Let go, Isabella," Andrey prompts me and rubs his cock against me again. "You know you want to." He's gone from commanding to gently persuasive, kissing my neck and keeping his rock-hard shaft strategically positioned. "Say it. Say what I asked you to, and you'll be rewarded."

My legs are too far apart, with him standing between them to press together in order to bring a bit of relief to my throbbing clit and calm a bit of the wildfire spreading across my system. The ache between my legs is intensifying with each passing second.

My control wavers as an involuntary squirm ripples through my hips. My body makes a desperate attempt for release by trying to exert a bit of extra pressure on my needy, yearning clit. But Andrey's free hand stills me, his fingers biting into my belly.

"I never said you could move." Andrey's voice is filled with dominance once again, and his eyes burn with a savagery that locks my breath in my throat. "Let me explain the rules to you, little princess, in case I didn't make myself clear the last time."

He leans his well-toned body against mine, claiming my lips in a hard, hungry kiss before pulling back, his teeth biting my bottom lip. Andrey moves his hips, connecting his stiff shaft with my pussy which I can feel is soaking wet and probably going to leave a damp spot right through to the satin dress.

"Oh, God." I moan and instantly try to press myself against him. "Yes. That feels so fucking good. Please, I…"

Andrey steps back just out of reach, and another painful groan escapes me. I feel like I'm hanging on the precipice of something I don't quite understand, but I'm powerless to resist, and I'm just spinning mindlessly out of control, left suspended in longing and need for release.

I picture this is what hell must really feel like—held in an endless, torturous turmoil of stinging, achy need. It is being teased to glorious heights with the promise of ecstasy, only to have it taken away and left burning, aching, and begging for more. But at the same time, there's that darker part of me that doesn't want the torture to stop. It wants the agony to be drawn out as it instinctively knows what's beyond it.

Holy fucking shit! What the hell is happening to me?

"Shh." Andrey's finger has fallen on my lips, silencing my pleas and whimpers. "I tell you what to do." He kisses me, teasing me, coaxing me—he is gentle Andrey once again. "If you obey, you'll get rewarded."

His lips crush mine, and he grinds his dick against my lace and satin-clad hungry pussy. Every inch of me is burning with a need so intense now it's overwhelming, and I want Andrey's hand on each burning part, doing wicked things to me.

Oh, fuck, this is insane! But I'm powerless to stop it. Weak with desire and a morbid fascination, wanting to know where it's going to lead.

"Oh yes," I breathe, and I can't stop my hips from moving with his when he pulls his lips from mine. "Please…" I'm moaning, but I'm not really sure what I'm asking for at this point. I'm panting, wanting, floating, in pain, and this weird sensation in my stomach is coiling tighter and tighter.

"Open your eyes, Isabella. Don't make me tell you again," Andrey commands, stilling his grinding movements.

Fuck, were my eyes closed? I didn't even realize, as right now, everything is just spinning in a sex-soaked daze with my pussy trying to latch onto his cock to milk it dry.

"Open your eyes!" Andrey snaps.

He pulls his man parts out of my reach while his long arm is still able to keep mine pinned painfully behind my back. He grips my hair with his free hand and yanks a handful of it, forcing me to open my eyes. I look up into his eyes. They have turned blue with predatory lust. He lets go of my hair to pinch my other nipple.

I let out a yelp. I'm not sure if it's in pleasure or pain. At this point, I can't really distinguish between the two as both are driving me insane, with a craving I can't explain or understand slowly consuming me.

"Tell me," Andrey growls, the deep timbre of his voice making me quiver as he grits his teeth, and I see anger flash in his eyes. "Say, yes, Andrey, I do !"

I'm powerless to resist him. My mind is not as strong as the will of my flesh, and my body is betraying the last vestiges of my control.

"I do!" My voice is raised and comes out as half sob while I maintain eye contact with him. Afraid that if I look away he'll leave me in a gooey wanton mess.

His eyes narrow. Andrey steps forward and presses himself into me. I can feel he is still rock hard, and I can't understand how he isn't completely losing his mind like me. How is he still so in control with a raging hard-on?

I press into him, and for my obedience and effort, he pinches my nipple harder this time, and I cry out. Andrey bends his head and licks the nipple. Another explosion of sensation erupts through me. Andrey pulls away and moves his face closer to mine.

"Princess, why are you making this harder on yourself?" Andrey's voice is a seductive melody, coaxing and tempting me with promises of pleasure. But my rational mind knows it's a trap, a game I can see in his eyes he is thoroughly enjoying. "Repeat it, but this time, do it right. I want you to scream what I asked you to say." His hand cups and starts massaging my mound. "I promise you'll be rewarded."

In the haze of desire, I can't remember what I said wrong. But as Andrey's touch ignited my every nerve, I realized I forgot to say his name. With determination in my eyes and ensuring I don't break eye contact or lose the friction of his hand, I scream out, "Yes, Andrey, I do!"

My voice catches in my now raw throat from the force of my scream. A sob escapes my lips when Andrey rewards me by applying more pressure to my pussy and stimulating my clit. And I cry out once again, "Yes, Andrey, I do!"

I can feel something wet on my cheeks, and I don't know if it's sweat or tears, and I don't care. I'm too scared to check, move, or break eye contact in case he stops moving his hand. I don't even care about the glimmer of triumph that flashes in his sliver blue eyes and or the smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Good girl," Andrey purrs, sending shivers down my spine. I hate myself for my weakness and my desire to please him in exchange for the promise of release. And disgust rolls in to mingle with my self-loathing, which somehow feeds this sick desire swirling inside me. "Now rub your pussy against my hand and cum for me."

Andrey begins to move his hand in a slow, tantalizing rhythm.

A low, guttural moan escapes my lips. Andrey's hand moves in perfect sync with my gyrations. I start panting. I can feel the heat building between my thighs.

"Oh, fuck." The pleasure intensifies until it's all-consuming, and I scream his name as I explode. His hand remains firmly on my pussy, pulsing along with the waves of my orgasm that leave me trembling and feeling both satisfied and ashamed. I collapse forward onto his broad chest.

I lie against Andrey, spent and vulnerable, wrapped in his arms. I can't deny that a dark desire still lingers within me, craving more of this sinful pleasure I know in my soul that only he can provide.

The fog slowly clears from my mind. I know without a shadow of a doubt that my carefully worked-out plan for escape has to happen today, or it won't take long for me to completely lose myself in this man if I stay any longer.

I have the skills and knowledge to survive in the most extreme places. When I'm thinking straight, I can disappear without a trace. What I don't have is the experience to wield sex as a weapon like Andrey has, and it's one area I have not learned to control or use to my advantage. If I stay with Andrey, I'm afraid I never will, and as he likes to boast—he will always be in control and the victor in any war we wage against each other.