Heart In A Cage

34

Isabella

"Wake up, my sweet girl. You're getting fucked in front of my wife this afternoon."

Strong arms slip beneath my knees and upper back and scoop me up into a secure hold. I scrub the weariness from my eyes, trying to ward off the exhaustion that had struck me after Andy had left me in the room for an hour to greet the guest that had endlessly rung the doorbell. My body thumps with his every slow step down the stairs, and through thin slits I see the facial hair spread over beneath his chin.

When the movements become smooth and I'm no longer bouncing in his arms, I use his shoulder to lift myself and skim my surroundings. I'm lowered into a stool in the kitchen, and he holds the side of my face with a hand, carefully brushing his thumb over my cheeks. His lips drift to my ear, and he plants a soft kiss below it before whispering, "I need you to be really, really quiet for me, baby, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Our eye contact fits into place as he draws back by a small inch and gently tilts my chin up at him. I hear a clink, and my mind immediately fixates on yesterday's scene, when he had bound me and ravaged me and blasted me with pleasure. There's another ring of metal, and the sound is followed by an impatient feminine voice calling out.

"Don't take your time, Andreas. I might break out of these chains and begin on myself if I have to wait any longer."

Breathing becomes a weakening ability of mine. My exhale shudders at the words from Dalia's mouth―at what they're alluding to.

"Why is..."

He drains my words with a swift kiss. "Would you like to partake in a new game which involves putting on a show for my wonderous wife whom had some very vile intentions?"

"What are you saying―what kind of show?"

He considers for a moment, then looks down at my lips. "One where I fuck the life out of you."

I slip my chin away from him and duck my head, though the attempt doesn't hide my blush. His low chuckle only worsens it.

From the living room, there's another round of that metal clinking noise and a few impatient grumbles. The woman that has made ceaseless attempts to plague I and Andy's relationship, despite the false nature of it, has undoubtedly been bound to the couch. It unsettles me that something so disgusting is within this commendable home of white and gold furnishings and decorations, and I'm pretty sure that fucking Andreas by her wont help her vicious attitude.

I hear another incomprehensible sentence from her, so I stare at him with wide eyes. "Is there a reason for this?"

"She's anticipating that I walk in there hard and swollen for her, and I need you to let her know who exactly I get hard and swollen for." He swiftly collects me into his arms, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his hips. "But you'll also let me know if you get uncomfortable, then we'll leave Dalia to fuck around by herself. Isn't that right, beautiful?"

I peek over his shoulders as though my eyes can laser through the wall dissecting the kitchen from the living room. I hear another metallic noise, then look back at him. "Rough."

He rushes us through the enormous corridor, but before we meet the source of all the shuffling and clinking, I'm set down onto the floor. I follow after him timidly as he strides in.

The view of Dalia fitted into lingerie and bound to that gorgeous white and gold couch is...gross.

My disgusted state heartens her. Her lips arch into a spiteful smile, and with the revulsion that takes away my awareness, I don't notice that Andreas has guided me to the couch opposite her until there's a click and my wrists link together by manacles.

Despite the reassurance I received that Dalia's going to be on the losing end of the court, I still can't shake off the feeling that I'll need to watch some kind of monstrosity occur before me. One involving him...fucking Dalia.

I sink into the couch and observe as he faces his wife, and I force myself not to fix my attention on his rippling back muscles.

"What would you like me to do to you, Dalia?"

She doesn't take long to make her request to him. I can't stand her lingerie-clad body, or the villainous attention directed towards me, so I watch the coffee table that's been pushed to the side as she says, "I want you to fuck me on your own accord."

I get an urge to puke.

"Are you sure?" he asks. "Damaging you wont be ideal. You know I like it rough."

"Of course. Otherwise, I wouldn't have accepted your invitation."

An unexplainable hurt balls up within me. But when he turns away from his conceited wife and shows me just a speck of gentle emotions, a finger runs down that tattoo on his upper abdomen. A fleeting touch over where he'd pigmented his skin for me in a claim that I have a part of him.

I don't try to dissect the subtle gesture.

He faces her again. "Where shall I begin?"

Dalia smacks her lips, and I shift my head enough to find her staring at me as she answers. "Begin with taking your dick right where you want it."

Andreas surveys her for a few torturous seconds in which my forehead perspires.

Relax, relax, relax.

"You want me to start off where I want? One hundred percent sure?"

"Yes." She tugs at the chains and arches her back impatiently.

"Okay." He turns to me, and the gentleness of his features settles into something better, something gaining me a bit of adrenaline as his eyes lose that soft glow they had only moments ago and transition into something feral. "I'll start off just where I want."

The first of Dalia's screams begin with his pace towards me.

"Don't—" She's shoved into terror as he stands over me, smirking and licking his lips. "Don't you dare!"

He ignores her next repetitions of the same pleads, and even with the volume of her demands to have him return to her, finish what she wanted him to start, all I can hear is the exultant pound of my heart as a soothing thumb caresses my cheek.

Dalia continues howling, wildly thrashing in failed attempts to escape the restraints that she'd set up for herself. "Do not touch her, Andreas! I warned Bridgette to rip up the forms if she doesn't get a message from me in an hour!"

I quirk an eyebrow as he picks me from the couch, but he's too busy carrying me to the floor and whispering that I kneel before her.

With no hesitance to obey his order, I drop to my knees and smirk as merciless shrieks begin erupting from in front of me.