Dangerous Beginnings (The Beginnings Duet #1)

The Inevitable Happens

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 with the 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.

Playing with her, treating her the way I have perhaps is just an illusion to keep her and the rising feeling at bay. But there is no denying it anymore; she matters to me. I care for her. The most cardinal sin to commit in this lifestyle. Something I swore to never do.

My mind is a battlefield, logic warring against an inexplicable pull towards her. She was just a mere loose end, a captive, yet in caring for her, I feel captivated in return, ensnared by the depth of her resilience and the unexpected warmth that flickers to life within me in her presence. My life has always been about control, about keeping emotions at bay to remain effective, and unattached.

Yet, as I witness the softening of her gaze, the slight easing of tension in her shoulders, I recognize a desire to keep her safe, not just from the physical dangers that lurk outside but, paradoxically, from the very darkness that resides within me. I wonder if I would be capable of that. She seems to radiate in my darkness.

As I turn to leave to give her some space to shower, a hand reaches out to grasp mine, her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins. I’m in a primal state. I don’t know if I can trust myself around her right now. I’ve never wanted someone so bad as her. It’s fucking maddening. I hesitate for a moment, torn between the desire to distance myself from her and the overwhelming urge to stay by her side.

Isabella

I step into the shower. The water is warm and soothes my skin. My eyes dart towards Aslanov and it only takes me a second to respond.

I pull him into the shower with me, and a surge of adrenaline courses through my veins, my heart pounding with anticipation. The warm water cascades over us, soaking us both to the skin as we stand together in the dimly lit bathroom. I watch as uncertainty flickers in Aslanov’s eyes, his hesitation palpable in the air between us. But before he can protest, I take matters into my own hands, pulling him closer until he stands beneath the spray of water with me. His clothes become completely soaked.

“I’d assumed you could use a shower as well,” I state in between breaths. His eyes dart between me and the door.

His dark voice fills the cabin, “Do you know what assuming gets you?”

“Killed,” I breathe.

His eyes fall to my lips. “Smart girl.”

His words are deep and soft, and a part of me feels like I have done something good. “Is that what you want? To kill me?” I breathe out as water runs down my face, wetting my hair, and making it stick to my face.

Hesitant for his response, his voice fills my veins. “You will have to kill me if death is what you seek. I will kill for you.”

I can’t think, I can’t breathe.

His green eyes meet mine, filled with a hunger that matches my own, and at that moment, all pretense is stripped away, leaving only raw desire in its wake.

Leaning in close, I press my lips to his, my body melting against his as we surrender to the passion that burns between us. The water cascades over us, washing away the fear and uncertainty of the night, leaving only the heat of our bodies entwined in a desperate embrace. His lips are warm against mine, his touch sending sparks of electricity coursing through my body. He kisses me back with passion.

As the water continues to cascade over us, a surge of desire courses through me, igniting a fire that burns hot and fierce within my veins. With my trembling hands, I reach for the buttons of Aslanov’s shirt, my fingers fumbling with anticipation as I work to free him from the confines of his clothing all while kissing him.

His skin is warm against my touch, his muscles rippling beneath the surface like coiled springs ready to unleash their power. As I finally succeed in ripping open his shirt, a wave of arousal washes over me. I break the kiss to breathe and take in his chest, my senses overwhelmed by the sight of his trained, tattooed chest glistening in the dim light of the bathroom. Every line and contour of his body is a testament to strength and power, a tantalizing invitation to explore every inch of him. I trace my fingers over the intricate patterns inked into his skin, my touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body. He throws his shirt on the floor and catches me again in an embrace, pushing me against the shower wall. Steam building. Slowly he kneels in front of me.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he slides my soaked panties down my legs, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. I watch him with bated breath, my heart pounding in my chest. Oh god. Our eyes meet, a silent exchange of desire passing between us as he leans in to kiss my heated core. I gasp at the sensation, my body arching towards him as pleasure courses through my veins . His lips are soft against my skin, his touch sending waves of ecstasy crashing over me. I moan softly. Aslanov’s kisses grow more urgent, his tongue tracing patterns of fire against my skin. I reach for his hair. I’ve never felt this good. My head falls back in pleasure as his lips leave their mark on my most vulnerable part.

Aslanov’s lips trail a path of fire along my thighs, his kisses igniting a primal desire deep within me. I gasp as his mouth moves higher, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

With each kiss, my senses are heightened, my skin tingling with anticipation as Aslanov explores every inch of me with a hunger that leaves me breathless. I arch towards him, craving more of his touch as he drives me to the brink of ecstasy. I’m going insane. Aslanov’s lips travel higher. My heart pounds in my chest as I surrender myself.

His lips move onto my neck and before I know it his icy inked hand grabs my chin, and his lips slightly touch mine. My lips part ever so slightly. Time stands still. Aslanov’s lips meet mine in a passionate kiss, I melt into his embrace, my body responding eagerly to his touch. The kiss is filled with a raw intensity, each brush of his lips sending heat into my core. My heart pounds in my chest. He has me exactly where he wants. But I’m starting to think I have him exactly where I want just the same. He’s hungry for me, and starving people will eat anything.

His finger brushes a stray strand of hair away from my face, his touch gentle yet possessive. “Did I pass your test?” I breathe.

Aslanov smirks, a glint of amusement and something darker flickering in his eyes. “My test?” he repeats, letting the word hang in the air between us, savoring the moment. His gaze intensifies, studying my reaction, before he finally leans in closer kissing my lips multiple times. “Yes,” he breathes out, his voice low and laced with a promise, “you passed.”

“Except for the last part, solnyshko got a little scared there, didn’t she?” I bite his neck, and he groans.

“Don’t call me solnyshko.”

I can feel him smirk as he stares down at me, my legs still around his waist. “Okay, love , whatever you want.” My insides hurt with warmth.

“I’d like that,” I whisper.

“Like what?” He asks for clarification as his face is mere inches from mine. His hair was completely soaked by now.

“For you to call me love ,” I add shy, tender, and turning red all over. Fuck .

Aslanov’s gaze softens, a flicker of tenderness shining through the depths of his green eyes. He brushes a lock of wet hair away from my face, his touch gentle yet possessive. “Love,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. I want it so bad. “I can do that.” Yes, please.

He whispers as sets me down on the floor, I reach for my bralette and let it fall to the floor with one click. With a newfound boldness fueled by desire, I reach out my hands to the buckle of Aslanov’s belt, fingers trembling with anticipation as I work to undo the fastening that stands between us. The sound of metal against metal fills the air.

As the belt falls away, I reach for the button of his trousers, my breath catching in my throat as I slide it free from its confines. My fingers brush against the fabric of his trousers, tracing the outline of his arousal beneath. It’s rock-hard. He groans.

Heat courses through me at the sensation, my body responding instinctively to the promise of pleasure that lies just beyond my grasp. Aslanov’s hands suddenly grab mine as he stops me. I hissed at the sensation. His fingers were in an icy grip.

“Isabella,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. “Are you sure you want this?” I nod, breathing still fast. I do. I need him.

There is just one thing. “But…” I start, “I’m a virgin.” My voice is more of a whisper, and I hope he even heard me correctly. Aslanov notices the blush that colors my cheeks, and he smiles with dimples. His eyes are full of heat. He reaches out to cup my face in his hands, his touch tender and reassuring.

“Isabella,” he says softly, his voice a comforting rumble. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Your innocence is something to be cherished, something to be proud of.” My blush deepens at his words.

“Are you sure you’d want me to take that from you?” He asks that question as if he’s someone I would not give it to. Like he’s disgusted with himself.

“Yes,” I state breathlessly. And that’s all he needs, confirmation. A consent.

With a nod, Aslanov leans in, his lips brushing against mine in a tender kiss filled with a mixture of passion and reverence. His touch is gentle, his movements deliberate as he guides me towards the edge of the shower, his eyes never leaving mine.

As we stand beneath the cascading water, our bodies pressed close together, I feel a sense of anticipation building within me, a hunger for something more than just physical pleasure. There’s a connection between us that goes beyond mere desire.

Aslanov’s hands roam my body with a tenderness that takes my breath away, his touch igniting a fire deep within me that threatens to consume us both.

And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, Aslanov guides me down onto the tiled floor of the shower, the warm water cascading over us like a gentle rain. With trembling hands, I reach for him, pulling him close as our lips meet in a passionate kiss. He removes his boxers, and my breathing picks up as I look down. Oh my god.

He’s bare. A sight I’ll dream about for the rest of my life. He’s more tattooed than I thought and more muscular than expected. His skin is bruised by many scars and marks, reminding me of who he is. I swallow hard. His boner is huge . My cheeks flush and my breathing picks up. Desire courses through me like a wildfire, consuming every thought and leaving only raw need in its wake.

Aslanov his fingers lifted my chin, my gaze on his again. We hold eyes and the most beautiful thing happens, his cold eyes warm . “I will brand myself upon your heart Isabella.” My breath hitches in my throat. “Please make sure you’re ready for me too.”

The pain and denial all reconcile in his green eyes from past feelings. A single tear runs down my temple and it washes away with the rest of the steaming hot water around us. There is something heady about having a man like Aslanov at my mercy. He’s so different, so calm. And am I going completely insane or did Aslanov just blush? A flicker of emotion crosses his features, a mixture of longing and hesitation dancing in his gaze. He leans into my touch.

“Remember, you wanted this,” he reminds me before positioning himself above me. His fingers mingle with mine, pressing them against the floor. The head of his cock presses against my entrance until I’m practically panting with anticipation.

Slowly he slides into me, I let out a small cry. I’m wet enough that he slides into me with ease, but he’s so big it hurts.

Pain blurs with pleasure as my eyes start to water. Once he is fully in, his face inches away from mine. He places a gentle kiss on my forehead. “That’s it love , you’re taking it so good.”

His hands find their way to my hips, moving closer. His thumbs rub circles over my sensitive ass cheeks as I struggle to accommodate his size. He slowly moves in and out of me.

“Fuck, I’ve craved you so fucking much.”

More arousal fills me.

My breaths come out in soft pants, I’m impossibly full, but gradually the pain subsides the pleasure. My teeth clench out for a moan to slip out. Pleasure starts to fill me. I push back at him, desperate for more.

“Easy baby girl.” Aslanov groans as he moves in and out of me.

The nickname releases heat off me that I never thought I possessed. I want him to want me. I want him to crave me. I want it all. He’s mine. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groans as pleasure writes on his face.

“More,” I whimper, moving my hips towards his. Then Aslanov slams into me again, this time with more power, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Dark pleasure burns through me. Our moans fill the cabin.

“Am I taking all your firsts, Isabella?” Aslanov questions with ragged breaths. His dark eyes flickering on mine. His hands roam around my body, his lips on my nipple. Rough hands, rough strokes.

I moan out a small, “yes,” because that is all I can manage to speak. And as much as I should embarrass myself right now or feel guilty, sinful even, I don’t. He’s looking at me like a man who has been starved, and I can give him anything he needs. It feels way too good. His lips curl up in a smirk as my answer reaches his ears.

His punishing carnal rhythm coaxes moans out of my body every second. “You feel so fucking good,” Aslanov groans as he kisses my collarbone.

He thrusts in and out of me, again and again. Rough, like him. Not sparing me anymore. Tears and drool run down my face. I’m being reduced to a wreck, with nothing but pleasure and a hint of pain. This is what desire feels like. It was passion in its rawest form.

His voice turns harsh.

“You,” thrust, “are,” thrust, “mine.” A loud moan escapes me after each thrust. If it was not for his hold, I would have fallen apart on this floor.

Suddenly Aslanov’s grip tightens, and his voice becomes a primal growl. My pleasure peaks, reaching a different level of strength.

He runs a knuckle down my cheek, getting the wet hair out of my face.

“Let go, my love .” Those words are enough. His words of encouragement mingled with the sounds of our shared passion. Together, we reach the peak of pleasure, our bodies trembling in unison as we surrender to the overwhelming waves of sensation. I let go, like he tells me to. Warmth fills me in the process as Aslanov groans against my skin. This is pleasure at a different level, something new, something never imagined before. It’s nothing compared to everything. It radiates through my entire body into my goddamn soul.

I’m a panting mess. However, he doesn’t pull out of me yet, as water keeps on cascading over us. His face disappears in my neck, I close my eyes when I feel his teeth sink into my skin. I won’t be able to get rid of this mark in any way possible, he’s marking me. I groan, a complete mess. His free hand makes its way to my chest, my heart.

“Mine.” He whispers, then he takes one of my hands in his, guiding it towards his chest, his heart.

“Yours.” Our eyes meet.

I knew then that I’d follow this man to the gates of hell if he would just hold my hand. I’d committed the most cardinal sin of all, making love with the Devil himself. But he’s not leading me towards the gates of Hell, rather to the gates of Heaven.