Chapter 4- His Prostitute

4

Isabella 

Just for a night…

For a night I had to be a prostitute for love.

Though it was hard to breathe I sat on the bed shivering as I wondered how I would be able to live with myself after this.

For a moment I wanted to stand and tell him I couldn't do it and promise I would work everyday to make back the money he would lose tonight but I couldn't.

I couldn't bear the look of disappointment, I didn't want to fail in my responsibilities as a wife.

If tonight could change everything shouldn't it be a risk I gladly take for a man who saved my life?

The door lock clicked snapping me back to the present, and my pulse hammered in my throat.

 The door creaked open, letting in a sliver of hallway light that sliced across the floor like a blade. He scoffed, and I felt ice down my spine. "Why's it so damn dark in here?"

I heard his hand fumbling along the wall, searching for the switch. "Don't," I blurted, my voice cracking. "I... I don't want the light on. It's easier this way."

Everything went completely still. "That's suspicious… he spoke again and I heard his footsteps retreat.

Derek's words flashed in my mind: If you piss off the next man, things will never go back to the way they were. 

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, forcing my tone lighter, sultrier. "I do my best work in the dark. Trust me, you'll like it."

That made him chuckle, and the door clicked shut, sealing us in blackness. The AC whirred louder now, but sweat beaded on my forehead, trickling down my neck. 

His footsteps approached slowly, each one ratcheting my heart rate higher. The bed dipped as he reached out, his fingers grazing my face in the void. I flinched, shifting back instinctively.

"Don't move again," he murmured, his voice velvety, laced with a warning that wrapped around me like silk chains. It pinned me in place, my body obeying before my mind caught up.

His touch returned, gentler this time, tracing my cheeks, brushing along my jaw. The warmth of his skin contrasted the cold air, sending sparks across my nerves. "You've been crying," he said, thumbing the damp trails. "This your first day on the job?"

I hesitated, then lied. "No. I've done this before."

"Liar." His tone sharpened, but there was amusement in it, like he enjoyed the game. I felt him start to pull away, and desperation clawed at me.

"Please," I whispered, grabbing his wrist. "Don't leave. I need this."

He stilled, his breath warm against my ear. "There's nothing gentle about me. If you say yes, I'll fuck you until you're sore, until you can't remember why you started crying. You consenting to that?"

My heart leaped, a frantic jolt that wasn't all fear. Something in his words stirred heat low in my belly, and it settled at the meeting of my thighs. 

Words failed me; I nodded against his palm.

His fingers moved then tangled in my hair, yanking just hard enough to tilt my head back, exposing my throat. "Tonight, you're my prostitute. Doesn't matter who else you've spread for, you're mine now. All of you."

A shiver raced through me, my body reacting to a rhythm I hadn't felt in years.

His other hand skimmed my lips, parting them slightly. "Say it."

I gulped hesitantly, he thugged my hair low, his hand on my throat now.

“I don't like to repeat myself.” His tone held a dangerous warning.

My Adam's apple ticked against his hand then my lips parted, my mouth dry. "Tonight... I'm yours."

With a guttural groan, he crushed his mouth to mine, devouring me like a man starved in the desert. His lips were demanding, tongue invading without apology, tasting of smoke and urgency. I gasped into the kiss, my hands fisting in his shirt as he pressed me back onto the bed. 

The pull between us was magnetic, undeniable, like gravity had decided we belonged tangled together. I melted into it, boneless against the mattress, as his tongue swept into my mouth again, claiming every corner until my head spun and heat bloomed low between my thighs. 

His kiss tasted like possession, like he was rewriting whatever came before him.

His hands skimmed down my sides, rough palms catching on the lace of my bra. Fingers slipped beneath the cups, circling my nipples until they stiffened into tight peaks. I arched, chasing the friction, but abruptly his mouth left mine. A pitiful whimper slipped out before I could catch it.

Then came the sharp rip of fabric—lace tearing under impatient fingers. Cool air hit my bare skin, followed instantly by the wet heat of his lips closing over one nipple. He sucked hard, tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough to blur the line between ache and bliss. He switched sides, lavishing the same ruthless attention until I was writhing, unrecognizable little sounds spilling from me.

He trailed lower, open-mouthed kisses mapping my ribs, my stomach, the sensitive dip above my hip. When his breath ghosted over the lace covering me, I flinched hard. Derek’s voice echoed in my skull: that’s disgusting, don’t even think about it. My thighs tensed instinctively, ready to snap shut.

Strong hands clamped my hips, pinning me open. “You’ve never had a man’s mouth here?” 

I shook my head, throat too tight to speak.

A low chuckle vibrated against my skin. “Mon chérie, you have to use your words. I can’t see you in the dark.”

“No,” I managed, barely a whisper. “He… he never wanted to.”

His fingers flexed, then one hand slid up my throat, choking me, a firm reminder of who was in control. “Don’t think about anyone else. Not tonight. Say it.”

I swallowed against his palm. “Tonight I’m yours.”

“Louder.”

“Tonight I’m yours.”

“Good girl.”

Fabric tore again—my panties shredded in one impatient yank. He groaned, deep and primal. “Fuck, you smell so good. Like jasmine and honey, I'll have to savor every inch.”

Then he was gone for a heartbeat, my body groaning displeased with the lack of touch. 

I heard the rustle of his shirt hitting the floor, the metallic clink of his belt buckle dropping, the soft thud of denim following. The bed dipped as he returned, settling between my thighs. His shoulders nudged my legs wider.

“You come when I say,” he warned, breath hot against my core. “Not before. Understand?”

I nodded, frantic.

His tongue flicked out only the tip circling the outer layer then he delved deeper, his full tongue sucking on my clit a sensation that made my hips jerk. Two fingers slid inside me, curling, stroking that spot that turned my spine to liquid. He worked me with devastating patience, tongue and fingers in perfect sync, building pressure until my thighs trembled and my hands clawed at the sheets.

“Please,” I gasped. “I can’t—I can’t hold it—”

“Not yet.” He pressed harder, sucking my clit between his lips, fingers thrusting deeper. Stars exploded behind my closed eyelids. Every nerve screamed.

“Please—”

“Say it…

“Please-

“Say it!”

“Tonight… I'm all yours”

“Come for me,” he growled against my flesh. 

The command shattered me. I came apart with a broken cry. “Mate—” The words tumbled out, as waves crashed through me. He drank every shudder, tongue lapping slow and greedy until I was oversensitive and twitching.

He lifted his head at last, voice rough with satisfaction. “That’s just the beginning.”

Before I could catch my breath, his hands were on my hips again, flipping me onto my stomach with effortless strength. My cheek pressed into the cool sheet, ass lifted, heart slamming against my ribs.

He settled behind me, one palm splaying between my shoulder blades, pressing me down while the other guided himself to my entrance.

“I’m just getting started,” he murmured, voice dark with promise.

And then he pushed in, slow and relentless, filling me until there was nothing but the knowledge that tonight, the ring on my finger didn't matter...

I belonged to no one else.