20. Isabel
20
ISABEL
I wake up with a strange feeling.
My body feels stiff, my skin damp with sweat, but it’s not the usual discomfort of waking up in a place that isn’t mine. Something is off.
My first thought is that Maxwell came into my room again. He’s been pushing boundaries, testing my limits, but I swore I locked my door last night.
Still groggy, I turn my head toward the door?—
It’s cracked open.
Motherfucker .
I throw the blanket off, ready to march out and berate him for breaking into my room again, when a sensation between my legs makes me freeze. Sticky . Warm . My thighs press together, and I inhale sharply.
What the fuck?
Panic flutters in my chest, but I force myself to breathe. Did he—? No . He wouldn’t dare.
I shake my head, trying to push past the bizarre thought that maybe I had a dream I can’t remember. It has to be in my head. Too much time in captivity, too much stress. My mind is playing tricks on me.
I run a hand through my tangled hair and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, but my eyes catch something near the window: another drawing of me, carefully placed on the small wooden table. Next to it, I see something familiar.
I scowl before even picking it up.
A note is tucked beneath it in Julian’s handwriting. Got you some more obleas, since you seem to like them.
One day, I’d found a package of the thin wafer cookies filled with creamy dulce de leche sitting on the kitchen counter and devoured them before I even realized I was hooked. I’d never tasted anything like them before.
And then it kept happening. Every time I finished a pack, another would appear.
I grip the note so tightly; it crumples at the edges.
It’s embarrassing, knowing Julian noticed.
Enough .
Enough of the games, the stolen moments, the pathetic attempts to make this place feel normal when nothing about this is normal.
I shove away from the bed, stomping toward the door, my bare feet slapping against the cold wood floor. Anger fuels me as I storm through the hall, down the stairs, and straight into the kitchen, where the three brothers stand like it’s just another day.
Like they didn’t kidnap me.
Like they didn’t steal months of my life.
Like I don’t dream of sinking a knife into each of them just to see how they’d bleed.
The sound of their conversation grates against my nerves, their casual demeanor making my fury bubble over.
“ You think this is normal?” My voice comes out screechy.
Three sets of eyes turn to me.
“ You think you can just give me gifts and snacks and expect me to forget what you did?” My pulse roars in my ears. “ You kidnapped me. You ruined my life. I hate you!”
My breath heaves.
None of them speak.
“ I wish you were dead.” My voice cracks, but I don’t care. “ I wish all of you were fucking dead.”
Silence .
My body trembles from the force of it all, my heart hammering so violently, I feel it in my throat.
And still, they just stand there as if I haven’t just declared war.
I tear up the portrait Julian gave me in half, then into quarters, letting the torn pieces flutter to the floor like dead leaves.
When I look at Julian , emotion flashes across his eyes. It’s gone as soon as it appears, but it’s there. Good .
But it’s not enough.
I turn, stalking into the dining room. My fingers curl around the back of a chair, and I lift it and hurl it at the window. The impact rattles through the room, but the glass barely splinters.
“ Let me out!” I scream, grabbing the chair again and slamming it against the window, over and over. My throat burns with every desperate, furious cry. “ Let me the fuck out!”
Arms wrap around me from behind, locking me in place.
“ Calm down,” Maxwell murmurs against my ear.
“ Don’t touch me.” My voice shatters as I thrash, kicking at his legs, twisting against his grip, but he’s stronger.
The fight drains out of me faster than I want it to. A sob claws its way up my throat, and no matter how hard I try to choke it down, it breaks free. My muscles go slack for just a second as he holds me tighter, whispering, “ Shhh , just breathe.”
Against my better judgment, I do.
I hate it.
My body melts into his, his warmth seeping into my bones.
I jerk against him, but he’s already lifting me like I weigh nothing. He strides into the living room and lays me down on the couch. Theodore and Julian follow, silently watching from the edges of the room.
Maxwell grabs a blanket from the armrest and drapes it over me, but I shove it away. “ Get the fuck away from me!” My throat is raw from screaming. I try to sit up, but my limbs feel sluggish. I open my mouth to yell again, but?—
Smack .
The sting explodes across my cheek, silencing me instantly.
Theodore stands over me, his palm still raised, his expression blank. Julian doesn’t move. His arms stay crossed, his gaze dark. Maxwell shifts beside me, his jaw clenched.
I barely register the cool air against my skin until I see the way Theodore’s eyes dip lower. My stomach lurches.
The thin silk of my nightgown clings to me, and I realize too late that I didn’t bother covering myself before storming downstairs.
I grab the blanket and yank it up, my face burning.
Theodore exhales slowly, tilting his head. “ On your knees.”
I curl my fingers into the fabric, shaking my head. “ No .”
His eyes glint with something cold. “ You know what happens when you disobey.”
My heart hammers, but I stay rooted to the couch.
Smack .
This time, the slap is harder, sending my head snapping to the side. I taste the copper and metallic flavor of my blood. I suck in a breath, my tongue running along the inside of my lip.
Maxwell makes a sound.
I glance at him, and something in his expression unnerves me.
His pupils are blown wide, his breathing uneven. He kneels in front of me, his gaze locked onto my mouth. I freeze as he lifts his hand, swiping his thumb against my lip, smearing the blood. He brings it to his mouth, sucking it clean.
His lids flutter shut for half a second, and when they open again, there’s something feral in his eyes.
A shiver licks down my spine.
He pulls a knife from his pocket, flicking it open with ease. The silver edge glints as he drags the tip lightly down the column of my throat, with just enough pressure to make me feel it, to remind me how easy it would be.
“ You should listen to Theodore ,” he whispers. “ Because he’s not the only one who likes to play.”
My body betrays me, my pulse pounding in places it shouldn’t. I should be disgusted, but instead, there’s a slow, insidious warmth curling in my stomach, tangling with my rage.
I don’t want to feel this.
“ On your knees, Siren . In front of Julian .”
When Theodore gives the order once again, I don’t fight. My limbs move on their own, traitorous and weak, as I sink down in front of Julian .
Julian watches me, and I force myself to hold his gaze, but something in my chest twists when I do.
The torn portrait still litters the floor, fragments of the image he created for me. Of me .
Guilt knots in my throat. I don’t know why—it’s not like I asked for it. But still, the destruction of something so intentionally made sits heavy inside me.
Theodore takes a seat on the couch behind me, his voice cutting through the haze. “ Unbutton his pants.”
My shoulders stiffen, my hands clenched in my lap. “ No .”
Maxwell moves behind me. The air shifts as he leans in, his breath warm against my ear.
His fingers thread through my hair, gripping firm. Then , the cold kiss of steel presses against my chest, just above my racing heart.
“ Do it, Starling ,” he murmurs, voice like a blade wrapped in velvet. “ Fighting it won’t do you any good. Do it, or you can keep testing my patience.”
My hands tremble as my fingers brush against the button of Julian’s slacks. The moment I graze his crotch, I catch the slight hitch in his breathing. His jaw ticks and his shoulders tense. He’s so hard beneath the fabric, there’s a darkened patch where his arousal has seeped through.
A pulse of heat licks through me. It’s humiliating. My lips part, and before I can stop myself, I drag my tongue across the bottom one, my mouth suddenly dry.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Shame floods my veins, making my stomach churn. I drop my gaze, clenching my fists in my lap. I don’t want to see their faces or acknowledge the way my body is reacting to this.
Maxwell’s grip tangles deeper in my hair, tilting my head back until my eyes snap to his. The glint of amusement in his eyes makes my skin itch.
“ Don’t get shy on us now,” he murmurs with a teasing drawl. “ Go on. Pull him out.”
Julian hasn’t moved an inch, but his breathing isn’t as steady as before. His body is betraying him just as much as mine, and the knowledge makes my pulse skitter.
Theodore sighs, sounding unimpressed. “ You wanted to throw a tantrum? Then own it.” He leans forward. “ It’s time to apologize for tearing up his gift to you.” A pause. “ Put him in your mouth. I want you to taste him.”
I shake my head. I can’t do it.
Silence stretches between us, and then Maxwell hums, the sound laced with mockery. “ Do you need help, Starling ?”
Julian’s fingers flex against his thighs as Theodore’s lips twitch at the corner, something smug curving at the edges.
I don’t know what Maxwell intends to do until I feel him move. He grabs Julian’s cock and brings it to his own mouth, slinking his lips down the shaft. Julian inhales sharply and tips his head back.
Theodore lets out a low whistle, leaning back against his seat, his hands moving to adjust himself in his pants. “ This is about to be a great show,” he muses.
Oh my God .
Maxwell sucks on Julian’s dick for a few more strokes before he puts the crown at my mouth. Against my better judgment, I open and allow him in.
I don’t know when I lost control. Maybe I never had it to begin with.
Julian groans above me, his fingers threading into my hair, guiding me. My throat constricts as heat floods my face.
I should fight this, but instead, I’m drowning in sensation, in the pleased hum that rumbles through Julian’s chest, in the way Maxwell’s fingers skim my shoulder, like he’s savoring the moment.
“ Look at you,” Theodore says. He’s still seated, watching in triumph . “ You’re so much prettier when you’re obedient.”
My instinct is to spit something vicious back at him, but my words get stuck behind the lump in my throat.
I feel a strong tug at my dress, and cool air brushes my skin. Before I can react, Maxwell kneels by my side and presses close, his breath fanning against my collarbone. A shudder wracks my spine when his lips graze my bare skin, trailing lower until he reaches my exposed breast.
When he takes my nipple into his mouth, I gasp. I don’t know where to focus—the solid warmth of Julian’s body in front of me, his thick cock between my lips, the teasing suckles of Maxwell’s mouth on my tits, or the weight of Theodore’s gaze, tracking every reaction like he’s ready to jump in at any moment.
“ I want you to touch yourself,” Theodore orders.
I don’t respond, too caught up in sensation, barely hearing his voice over the rush of blood in my ears.
Cold steel presses against my throat. Maxwell doesn’t stop his slow exploration, his tongue running laps around my nipple, but the blade in his hand is a silent warning.
Tears burn at the corners of my eyes, spilling over before I can stop them.
Julian exhales sharply, his grip tightening in my hair. My body feels like it’s burning, every nerve alight, trapped between shame and arousal. He begins to fuck my mouth relentlessly, not letting me up for air.
And I take it.
My fingers trail down my stomach until they reach my center, and I spread my legs wide to rub circles over my clit as I moan.
Theodore watches, smug and satisfied. “ That’s it. Good girl. Don’t stop.”
His words turn me on tenfold.
The way the brothers talk to me, the filth dripping from their lips like honey-coated sin, only fuels the blaze curling low in my belly.
Julian groans above me, his grip tightening in my hair, guiding me faster, rougher. His breaths come out uneven, and when I glance up through my lashes, his lips are parted, eyes glazed with pleasure.
“ You feel that, Starling ?” Maxwell purrs, the knife still pressed lightly to my throat. His free hand moves lower, trailing heat along my skin. “ That’s power. Having him like this, desperate for you... Doesn’t that make you wet?”
Theodore chuckles. “ She’s soaked,” he drawls. “ I can fucking smell it.”
I whimper, my thighs pressing together involuntarily.
Maxwell tsks. “ You’re already putting on such a pretty show for us. Might as well go all in.”
“ Keep touching yourself, Isabel . Make yourself come while your mouth is full,” Theodore commands.
My skin burns, my mind screaming at me to stop, but my body obeys.
I moan around Julian’s cock, the vibrations making him grunt, his fingers tightening on my scalp. The pleasure between my legs builds fast, a sinful ache that coils tighter with every filthy word dripping from their mouths.
“ Such a good little whore,” Theodore muses. “ All that screaming and fighting just to end up like this—on your knees, swallowing cock like you were made for it.”
Heat sears through me, my cheeks burning, but the shame only adds to the unbearable throbbing between my thighs.
Maxwell chuckles, his breath tickling my ear as the cold edge of the knife trails lower, teasing along my collarbone. “ You love it, don’t you?” His tongue flicks out, wetting my skin. “ Say it.”
I shake my head, muffled protests lost around Julian’s throbbing length.
Maxwell laughs. “ Still lying to yourself, Starling ? That’s cute.”
Julian curses under his breath, his hips jerking, his restraint slipping. His other hand joins the first in my hair, forcing me down further, making me take all of him. I gag, tears spilling over my cheeks, but my pussy clenches at the way he’s using me, the way they’re watching.
“ Fuck , she’s perfect,” Julian groans, his voice strained. “ So fucking warm.”
Theodore hums, eyes locked on me like I’m something to be studied. “ You want to come, don’t you?”
I squeeze my thighs together, my fingers rubbing tight circles over my clit. I hate how close I am, how much their words are pushing me over the edge.
Maxwell grips my chin, forcing me to look up. “ Beg for it.”
I shake my head again, desperate to hold on to whatever self-control I have left.
Theodore grins, dark and knowing. “ Then don’t.” He leans forward, voice dropping to a whisper. “ But you will eventually.”
Maxwell presses the knife flat against my chest, with just enough pressure to make my pulse spike. “ Come , Starling ,” he coaxes. “ Come like the desperate little creature we know you are.”
Julian thrusts deep one last time, groaning as he spills down my throat. The sensation, the taste of him, the way Maxwell’s words scrape over my skin like sin and salvation— I break.
Pleasure crashes into me, my body trembling as I moan around Julian’s cock, my release tearing through me as I fall apart right there on my knees.
I try to catch my breath, my body still trembling.
Theodore watches me like a predator who just finished his meal, lazily dragging his thumb across his bottom lip. “ Look at you. Fucking ruined. You finally understand your place, don’t you?”
I grit my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.
Maxwell smirks, reaching out to tilt my chin up with two fingers. “ Still got some fight left in you? Good . I like breaking things slowly.”
Julian exhales sharply, his voice raw. “ She’s beautiful like this.” His fingers trail down my arm, barely touching, but the heat of it brands me. “ Soft . Shaken . Needy .”
I yank away, my skin burning, but the way they’re looking at me—like they already own me—makes my stomach tighten.
Theodore leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “ You can try to hate us all you want, little siren,” he whispers, his voice a velvet knife, “but your body begs for us.”
Maxwell chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming. “ And we love watching you fall apart.”