All Chapters of Sin Bound: short story collection: Chapter 91 - Chapter 99

99 Chapters

under one roof-2

[ ISABELLA’S POV ]I woke to the sound of the key.Not the soft scrape of someone trying to be quiet. The deliberate, unhurried turn of metal in the lock, the heavy deadbolt sliding back like it had been waiting for this exact moment. Rain still hammered the window. The room was dark except for the weak orange bleed of a streetlight through the dirty glass. My body ached in places that had nothing to do with the thin mattress and everything to do with the man who had used me and left me leaking onto the sheets.I didn’t move.The door opened. Closed. Locked again. Footsteps crossed the floor, slow, barefoot, certain. I kept my eyes closed and tried to slow my breathing, but my heart was already slamming against my ribs hard enough that I was sure he could hear it.The bed dipped.A hand, large, warm, calloused, settled on my bare hip. Thumb stroking once over the bruise he’d left earlier. Then higher, palm sliding up my side, over my ribs, until it cupped my breast. He squeezed. Not g

under one roof-3

[ ISABELLA’S POV ]I woke to the weight of his arm still across my waist and the slow, deliberate drag of his fingers between my legs.Not urgent. Not rough. Just… present. Like he had been lying awake for a long time, tracing the mess he had left inside me, reminding both of us who it belonged to. The room was gray with early light. The rain had stopped. The only sound was the distant drip of water from the eaves and the soft, wet noise of his fingers sliding through the evidence of last night.I didn’t pretend to be asleep this time.“You’re sore,” he said against the back of my neck. Statement, not question. Two fingers pushed deeper, slow, testing. “I can feel it. Swollen. Used.” His voice was still rough with sleep, lower than usual. “Does it hurt when I do this?”He curled his fingers. Pressed. Dragged across the tender place inside me that made my breath hitch and my hips twitch forward even though the stretch burned.“Yes,” I whispered.“Good.” He kissed the side of my throat,

under one roof-4

[ ISABELLA’S POV ]I woke to the sound of him moving through the dark.Not the careful quiet of someone trying not to wake me. The deliberate, unhurried sounds of a man who owned every floorboard and every breath in the building. Drawers opening. The soft clink of metal. Water running in the bathroom for less than a minute. When he came back into the bedroom the air changed, cooler, edged with the faint metallic scent that always seemed to cling to him after he’d been downstairs.I kept my eyes closed and tracked him by sound alone. Bare feet on wood. The shift of fabric. Then the mattress dipped and his hand settled between my bare thighs, two fingers sliding through the mess he had left in me hours earlier. He gathered it, dragged it up over my clit in a slow circle, and pressed just hard enough to make my hips twitch.“Still full,” he murmured. “Still open. Good.”I opened my eyes. The room was lit only by the thin orange bleed of the streetlight through the curtains he had ordered

under one roof-5

[ ISABELLA’S POV ]I didn’t remember falling asleep.One moment I was under the scalding spray of the claw-foot tub with M’s blood-streaked hands washing me clean, his body crowded behind mine in the too-small space, his cock already hardening again against the small of my back. Next, I was in bed in 4B, sheets changed somehow, his arm locked around my waist like a restraint, and the gray light of late afternoon leaking around the edges of the closed curtains.My body felt used in every possible way. Throat raw. Cunt swollen and tender. Ass still aching from how he had taken me on the basement table while men cooled in the hallway outside. Fresh bruises flowered across my hips, my thighs, the delicate skin of my wrists. When I shifted, a dull, deep throb answered from between my legs, proof that he had fucked his cum so far into me it still hadn’t finished leaking out.His breathing was slow and even against the back of my neck. Asleep, or close to it. The arm around me flexed once wh

under one roof-6

[ ISABELLA’S POV ]The first hour after the deadbolt turned was the longest of my life.I lay exactly where he had left me, center of the bed, his black shirt soft against my skin, thighs pressed together against the deep, throbbing emptiness he had fucked into me. The rain kept a steady rhythm against the window. Somewhere in the walls a pipe knocked once, soft, almost like it was testing the signal, then fell silent. The building felt bigger without him in it. Hungrier. Every creak of settling wood sounded like a footstep. Every shift of wind against the old bricks sounded like someone testing a window latch.I counted my breaths to keep from counting the minutes.One hundred.Two hundred.My body still hummed with the ghost of him. Every small movement sent a dull, sweet ache through my cunt and ass, reminders of how thoroughly he had used both before walking out the door with a gun and a knife and the quiet promise of violence. His cum had mostly stopped leaking out of me, but the

under one roof-7

[ ISABELLA’S POV ]I woke to the slow, deliberate drag of his tongue between my legs.Not the rough claiming of the night before. Not the frantic, two-days-denied hunger that had left me shaking and sobbing into the sheets. This was different, wet, open-mouthed, almost lazy, like he had all the time in the world and intended to use every second of it tasting what belonged to him. My thighs were already spread. One of his hands pinned my hip to the mattress; the other held me open with two fingers so his mouth could work me without obstruction.A broken sound left my throat before I was fully awake.“Morning,” he murmured against my cunt, the word vibrating through sensitive flesh. “You sleep hard when you’re full of me. I’ve been doing this for ten minutes and you only just started dripping on my tongue.”I looked down the length of my body. Marek lay between my thighs, naked, shoulders broad, the fresh cut on his cheekbone already scabbing over. His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded wi

under one roof-8

Days blurred into a rhythm that belonged only to the brownstone and the man who owned it.I woke most mornings the way I had the first morning after he came back from killing the last of the threat, with his mouth between my legs or his fingers already working inside me or the thick head of his cock nudging at my entrance while he waited for me to open my eyes and acknowledge what was about to happen. He liked me conscious for the first thrust of the day. He liked the sound I made when the stretch registered, still sore from the night before, still wet from whatever he had left in me while I slept.“Morning,” he would murmur against my throat or my cunt or the shell of my ear, depending on where his mouth had decided to start. “Open for me.”I always did.The rules settled over the building like a second roof.I did not leave without him. I did not open the door. I did not touch myself unless he told me to. I came only with permission. I wore his shirts or nothing. I ate what he put i

under one roof-9

The call came on a Thursday.I knew it was different the moment Marek’s phone buzzed on the dresser. He had received other calls in the weeks since the last of the external threats died, short, clipped, conducted in that language I still didn’t understand, but none of them had made his expression go quite so still. He answered without speaking first. Listened. His eyes found mine across the room where I sat naked on the edge of the bed, thighs still sticky from the slow morning fucking he had given me before the sun fully cleared the buildings across the street.He held my gaze the entire time he listened. When he finally spoke it was two words, quiet and final.“Tonight.”He ended the call. Set the phone down. Walked over to me. I spread my knees automatically. He stepped between them, cupped my jaw, and tilted my face up.“The loose end,” he said. “It has to be finished tonight. I’ll be gone until tomorrow evening at the latest. Possibly sooner.” His thumb brushed the corner of my m

under one roof-10

The rain had stopped sometime in the night, but the brownstone still held the quiet the way it always did, thick, listening, complete.I woke before him for once.Gray morning light leaked around the edges of the curtains he still refused to open fully. Marek lay on his back beside me, one arm flung above his head, the other resting heavy across my waist even in sleep, as if the claim needed to continue while he was unconscious. The sheet had slipped low on his hips. I could see the map of him in the half-light: old scars and newer ones, the fading bruises from the last loose end he had tied off, the soft trail of hair that led down to where his cock rested thick against his thigh. Even soft he looked heavy. Owned the space he occupied the same way he owned every room in the building and every inch of the body currently pressed against his side.I didn’t move for a long time.I just watched him breathe and felt the deep, settled ache between my legs from the night before, how he had c

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