The King and His Isabella
Chapter 3
Disclaimer: All twilight characters are not mine. Just the plot of the story.
Warning: This story is not for the faint of heart. It is full of pain and violence and injustice. It is dark and it contains rape If you do not want to read these kind of stories with dark and heartless characters then please feel free not to.
"Are you always so poetic when you're plastered?" Isabella asked mockingly.
Edward loosed a swift backhand across Isabella's face, causing the girl to cry out sharply.
"Shut the fuck up you filthy, stinking whore!" Edward bellowed. "Shut your fucking mouth!"
The king's entire frame shook with rage and he raised his hand to hit the girl again if she dared utter another syllable. But Isabella was silent. For the moment, at least.
Edward rose to his feet and turned his back on the girl. Isabella crawled slowly towards the ivory charm but the king saw her and got there first. Just as the girl reached for the carved pendant Edward placed his foot on her hand and pressed down on her bloody fingers sharply.
Isabella cried out as he held her there. Edward smiled ruefully then knelt down to pick up the charm. Only when it was safely out of the girl's reach did he release her fingers.
"Keep your thieving hands off things that do not belong to you, gypsy," he said, his words dripping with disdain.
Isabella hugged her hand to her chest, cradling her fingers. Tears streamed down her cheeks and dropped onto her thighs, running streaks through the dried blood.
"Were you always so cruel?" She asked through gritted teeth. "No wonder she left you."
Edward's heart almost stopped beating. His amber eyes were fixed on the girl's but her eyes did not widen in fear, not even as he reached out and grabbed her by her hair. He could not hear whether she screamed or cried out as he dragged her across the room. The king did not even notice that her fingernails broke his skin as she clawed at his hand. All he could hear was the rush of blood through his veins, the throbbing of his temples, the pounding of his own feet against the floor.
He pushed open his chamber doors and wrenched the girl into the hallway, pulling her along the marble corridor until they reached a carefully concealed door in the wall. He opened the door and pushed the girl down the stairs.
Isabella cried out as she tumbled down the long, winding flight of steps. Every time she managed to catch herself, Edward was there to kick her down once again. Finally Isabella found herself sprawled on cold, earthen floor. The darkling room swayed before her eyes.
"Can you hear me? Huh? You fucking bitch, can you hear me?"
The king's words seemed to dance through her mind but Isabella nodded dazedly.
"Good," he muttered grimly.
The girl did not have the strength to resist as the king tied her wrists together and then looped the rope through a hook on the ceiling. He grunted as he wrenched the girl to her feet, pulling her up until her toes were barely touching the floor.
Isabella stared at the ground, trying with all her might to convince her brain that the world was not spinning.
"What are you going to do to me?" She asked, her words sounding as if they came from another person.
"I'm going to beat some sense into you, gypsy," Edward growled from somewhere in the darkness.
Warning: Abuse and rape ahead from a very angry Edward.. You may skip.
Suddenly he was before her, lifting her face to stare into her dilated eyes. She gazed helplessly back at him, unable to keep a hint of despair from trickling into her eyes. He held the whip in front of her face and then brushed it down her body, letting the leather tendrils graze her skin.
Then Edward took a step back and snapped the whip in the air a few times, taking sick pleasure in the way she flinched each time. Then, finally, he let it go against her skin.
Isabella screamed as it snapped across her chest, leaving a pattern of red welts across her breasts. Again and again and again Edward let the whip go, laughing as she bucked and screamed each time the whip tore at her skin.
"Dance, bitch, dance," he roared, snapping the whip against her legs.
Finally Isabella had no more screams. Her body was latticed with welts and hoarse moans replaced her sobbing cries.
Edward stepped back, sweat beading on his dark brow. He walked around the girl slowly, as if admiring his brutal handiwork, then returned to stand before her. The king put his fingers under her chin to raise her face and then held the handle of the whip before her mouth.
"Open your mouth, bitch," he purred.
Isabella did not respond so he simply pushed her lips open and shoved the whip handle inside, pushing it in and out of her mouth.
"You better get it good and wet, gypsy, because it's going inside you," he snarled in her ear. "Would you prefer it in your cunt or your ass?"
Tears streamed down Isabella's cheeks, stinging as they dripped onto the raw wounds that covered her body.
Edward pulled the whip from her mouth and ran it down her body. He slid it against the entrance to her pussy and then shoved it violently inside her. Isabella cried out and fresh tears sprang from her eyes as the king slowly fucked her with the handle of the whip.
She could feel every inch of the braided leather handle being buried inside her with each thrust.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" He asked mockingly. "You know what's going to feel better? When I shove my cock inside your ass."
Isabella whimpered and hung her head, letting her tears flow freely.
Edward let go of the whip, leaving it to dangle from her pussy, and undid his pants. His erect cock sprung from his trousers, full and thick. He began running his hand up and down his dick. He walked behind Isabella, kneeling down in front of her ass. He smacked her ass hard, his palm leaving a large red spot on her fair skin. Isabella moaned as he spread her cheeks wide and spat in her asshole.
"You have a beautiful ass," he murmured, kneading her soft flesh harshly.
Edward stood up and pulled her close to him.
"Are you ready for it?" He rasped in her ear.
Isabella cried out as he pushed his cock inside her. Edward clamped one hand over her mouth to muffle her screams as her ass stretched around his cock. Her hole was amazingly tight and he could not help but moan as it squeezed every inch of his thick cock. He began pushing in and out of her ass slowly, feeling the leather tendrils of the whip brushing against his thighs as he pummeled her.
"Oh fuck your ass feels good," he snarled. "You're so tight."
Edward's nails dug into her, holding her firmly in place as he fucked her ass. Isabella could feel the whip, buried to the hilt inside her, moving as Edward's cock did. She was being fucked so deeply in both holes that she was not certain she would even be able to walk to her own execution.
The king's pace quickened and he slammed into her ass harder and harder. For a while, the only sound was that of his skin slapping against hers as he fucked her.
"Fuck," Edward groaned, breaking the monotony. His balls were so heavy as they slapped against the girl. All he wanted was to empty them inside her.
Finally he let out a guttural moan and came inside her, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as her ass squeezed every last drop from his dick. Isabella clamped her eyes shut as Edward came, she could actually feel his hot seed filling her ass.
Edward pulled out and laughed as thick drops of cum dripped from Isabella's ass and ran down her legs. He wiped up a few drops on his fingers and walked around to face her. Her eyes were lowered and her face was covered in tears.
"Open your mouth," Edward said.
Isabella's eyes flashed up at him but she did not resist as he slid his fingers into her mouth, forcing her to taste his cum.
He pulled his fingers from her mouth and wiped them across her face before reaching down to slide the whip from between her legs. He held it before her face so that she could see her own juices dripping from it and then wiped the whip across her tits.
"Now I have painted you as a whore," Edward sneered breathlessly.
~~~ for those who skipped, you may resume reading here ~~~
Isabella's body trembled but she did not speak.
"What?" The king asked incredulously. "Have I finally silenced the insolent bitch? No biting retorts, gypsy? Have you sheathed that sharp tongue at last?"
Edward grabbed her chin and lifted her face to meet his. Her azure eyes sparkled pitifully up at him.
"What do you see when you look into my eyes, gypsy?"
Isabella's quivering lips opened and closed a few times before her tongue could form words.
"I see a man with a broken heart," she whispered falteringly.
"And I see a girl with a broken body," Edward scoffed, squeezing his hand firmly around her throat.
Isabella's eyes flashed in the dim light as she muttered: "Not yet."
The king snarled and pressed his nose to hers.
"Your insolence will be the death of you yet," he growled. "Why are you so keen to throw away your life?"
"Perhaps I am too young to know the value of life," she said weakly, her breaths becoming haggard as the king's hold tightened.
"No, that is not it," he said, his grip loosening a little. "Your arrogance is not based in ignorance."
"Perhaps, then, it comes from a darker experience," she said hoarsely. "Perhaps I have seen death and know that your face is nothing like his."
"Death?" Edward said scornfully, his fingers tightening around her throat again. "Where would you have seen Death?"
"Last month I saw him in the streets of Baghdad," she gasped, "he gave a man I once knew a terrible look."
"What did he want with him?" the emperor asked.
"That was what I asked Death," Isabella said, her speech becoming slow and labored.
"And what did he say?" Edward asked, grasping her throat even more tightly.
"He said -"
But Isabella could not finish her story. Her limbs went limp as she finally, mercifully, faded into unconsciousness.
"What did he say?" Edward roared. "Wake up, bitch! What did Death say?"
Edward let go of her neck and backhanded the unconscious girl across her face but she did not stir. He growled in frustration and took his knife from his boot. He slashed the blade through the air and cut the rope holding Isabella's battered body aloft. The girl crumpled to the ground, her long limbs sprawled out across the floor.
Edward growled and kicked her one last time before stalking up the stairs and back into the main palace.
Jasper knew something was wrong. The vizier paced the throne room agitatedly, sweat glistening on his furrowed brow.
Normally by this time the king would be seated on his golden throne, ordering yet another young girl to be sent to the slaughter. But he was nowhere to be found.
"Where is he?" Jasper roared to the empty room. He scowled and stormed out of the throne room, walking as fast as he could to the king's chambers without breaking into a run.
The guards, however, were not poised by the king's doors. The armed escort were lined up outside the hidden door leading down into the dungeons. The ancient prison was no longer in use but Edward had kept it open just in case there should ever be a renewed purpose for it. Apparently he had found one.
The vizier's lip curled in a furious snarl as the concealed door to the dungeons opened and Edward stumbled out, still obviously intoxicated.
Edward shielded his amber eyes from the bright sunlight streaming in through the open windows.
"Where is the girl?" Jasper hissed, his hands clenched into fists. "What have you done with her?"
"Nothing the bitch didn't deserve," he mumbled.
The king reeled on his feet, clutching his throbbing head as his drink finally caught up with him.
"What did Death say?" He asked Jasper dazedly.
"You are drunk," Jasper growled disdainfully. The vizier gestured to the guards: "Take him to his chambers. Have the servants sober him up. He has two foreign counsels to meet with this morning."
As the guards led the inebriated emperor back to his chambers, Jasper ducked into the hidden doorway and ran down the stairs.
"Isabella?" He called into the darkness. A hint of desperation crept into his voice when she did not answer. But then he saw her...
The girl's ivory skin was bruised purple and red from the lashings Edward had given her, and the only parts of her face not covered with dirt were those over which her tears had flowed.
"Isabella!" Jasper cried, jumping down the last few feet of stairs and falling to his knees beside the girl.
He pulled her gently in his arms, softly undoing the ropes binding her wrists. He pulled off his own shirt and slipped it over her head, holding her gently as he pulled it down to conceal her nakedness before carrying her up the stairs.
Isabella's eyes fluttered open as he climbed up the long, winding staircase to the palace. She moaned slightly, the pain in her head too much to bear.
"Don't worry Isabella," Jasper murmured, clutching her tighter. "I am going to get you some help."
The palace doctor shuddered when he saw what lay beneath Jasper's shirt. The young woman before him had endured a horrific attack.
"Jasper," he breathed, letting the shirt fall, "what has possessed him?"
Isabella's eyes were clamped tightly shut but there was no question that she was conscious. Tears spilled from beneath her eyelashes and her body trembled with each painful breath she took.
"This is all my fault," the vizier sighed angrily. "I could have stopped him. I let him send all those women to their deaths. Now he is going to kill this one personally."
Carlisle flashed Jasper a pointed glare and then glanced back at the girl. The doctor was a firm believer in the power of positive thinking and was loathe to hear anyone admit a dire thought - especially in front of a patient.
Jasper bowed slightly in an expression of regret and was about to leave the room when a slim, shaking hand grabbed his.
Isabella smiled sympathetically up at Jasper, winding her fingers through his as she did.
"Please stay," she said, her raspy voice barely audible. "Not your fault."
"It is," he said. "I am so sorry Isabella."
"Not your fault," she said in as firm a whisper as she could manage.
Jasper pressed her fingers in his gently and nodded down at her, grateful for her words and yet powerfully ashamed that she should have had to offer them when she, herself, was in such a desperate state.
"Her injuries appear to be mostly superficial," Carlisle murmured. "But she is clearly weakened from a lack of nutrition and hydration as well."
He looked at Jasper sternly: "She needs food, water, and rest. I can treat her but she needs time to recover."
"He will be back for her tonight," Jasper said grimly. "After his general appointments he has a meeting with the district representatives but that will only keep him occupied until sundown."
The doctor sighed and rubbed his eyes but he nodded and waved Jasper away: "See if you can get us any more time."
Jasper nodded and turned to leave but, before his fingers could slip from Isabella's, she gripped his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze: "He won't kill me."
The vizier squeezed her fingers back and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face before leaving the doctor to treat her. Edward may not have ordered her execution yet but the day was still far too young for such a desperate hope.
Carlisle helped the girl to sit up so that she could sip at a cold, pungent herbal drink.
"I know it smells terrible," the doctor chuckled good-naturedly as he prepared a cooling paste for her welts, "and, believe me, it tastes worse, but it will do wonders for the pain."
Isabella nodded and gulped the remedy down, struggling to ignore its gritty, stomach-churning consistency. She finished it just as Carlisle came to help her out of Jasper's shirt. The old man gently pulled the linen over her head, breathing in sharply when the full extent of the whip marks became apparent.
The girl hugged herself, tears glistening in her eyes as she tried to shield her body from the doctor.
"I am not going to hurt you, my dear," Carlisle said gently. "I'm just going to treat your wounds."
"I know," she said, her voice faltering. "It's just so... I'm ashamed."
"This is not your fault, Isabella," the doctor said firmly. "You do not need to be ashamed. He has wronged you."
"I have endured worse," she said. "But I thought -"
The girl stopped and choked back a sob, silent tears beginning to drip down her cheeks.
"I'll going to start with your back, all right?" Carlisle said. "We have precious little time to treat you."
Isabella nodded and closed her eyes as he dabbed the paste onto the stinging marks on her back. The mixture felt like a jolt of ice - numbing and cooling her damaged flesh at the same time.
Carlisle helped her to lie on her back and then began dabbing the paste across the rest of her body. The girl sighed with relief as the pain slowly melted away.
"Is it helping?" The doctor asked.
"Yes, it is," Isabella said softly. "Thank you."
"Do not thank me, child," he smiled. "This is my duty."
"Is Jasper going to be all right?" She asked. "I do not want him to suffer for my sake."
"Do not worry for him," Carlisle said brusquely.
"You blame him for letting this escalate, don't you?" Isabella asked.
The doctor looked up at her and was shocked by the strength of her gaze. The tears that had filled her eyes just moments before had vanished - the only trace that they had ever existed were the trails of moisture on her cheeks. Her blue eyes were sharp and focused.
"He saw this coming before it started," Carlisle muttered finally. "He wanted too badly to believe in the goodness of his friend. But that man is gone."
Isabella nodded and closed her brilliant eyes, releasing the doctor from their piercing gaze.
"I've been meaning to ask you about your tattoos," Carlisle said as he pulled a blanket gently over the girl's slim frame. "They are Volturi symbols, are they not?"
Isabella's eyes opened and she nodded: "How did you know?"
"I have done dealings with those enigmatic nomads," he said. "Their medicine men and women are revered for their healing powers."
"Then you have heard of this ritual," she said. "They use the tattoos to heal physical wounds."
"Yes," Carlisle chuckled. "It's a myth all doctors love to hear."
"It's no myth," she said.
Isabella's eyes suddenly grew very heavy and she glanced at the doctor sleepily: "Am I supposed to feel tired?"
"Yes, child," he said, offering her a kind smile. "That's the medicine taking its effect. You sleep now, you need to get your rest."
Isabella nodded and a few moments later was peacefully asleep.
Carlisle tried to laugh off the girl's statements as he tidied up the infirmary but he could not. He had heard stories of a ritual that could cleanse the body of all manner of wounds, but he had never seen someone with the tattoos before. And yet those were Volturi symbols. So she must have received them during a tribal ritual... He sighed and continued rearranging his herbs and poultices, lost in his own thoughts.
Jasper returned to the infirmary just as the last rays of the dying sun were settling below the horizon. He found Carlisle at his desk, surrounded by scrolls.
"How is she?" The vizier asked earnestly.
The doctor started as if he had not heard Jasper enter.
"She is doing as well as can be expected," Carlisle said, hastily rolling up the scroll he had been reading as he rose from his desk. "I checked on her briefly but she was still sleeping. Come with me and we will look in on her again."
"He is going to be coming for her soon," Jasper said quietly as they walked through the infirmary to Isabella's bed. "God only knows what fresh hell he has in mind for her tonight."
"Jasper," Carlisle said sharply, "how many times must I tell you?"
"Sorry, sorry," the vizier muttered. "I just find it difficult to be optimistic when it comes to Edward."
Carlisle said nothing but nodded as he pushed open the door that guarded Isabella's bed. The girl was still asleep but the welts on her arms had decreased significantly and there was no evidence in pain in her peaceful expression.
"May I wait with her till he comes?" Jasper asked.
The doctor sighed but nodded. He exited the room without another word, leaving Jasper to sit in silence at Isabella's bedside.
Jasper heard Edward coming long before he burst into Isabella's room. He rose to his feet and planted a quick, chaste kiss on Isabella's forehead, running his fingers through her hair gently. The girl stirred but did not wake, not even as Edward pushed open the door.
The king walked to stand on the other side of Isabella's bed. His molten eyes took in the pale, slim girl as if for the first time.
Jasper watched his friend's eyes linger on the girl's face and realized that this was the first time Edward had seen the girl while he was sober. He stared at the king intently, hoping beyond hope for a flicker of remorse to pass over his countenance.
If it did, Jasper did not see it.
Edward looked up at Jasper, suddenly aware of his scrutiny.
"How is she?" He asked, his voice empty of any real concern for her well-being.
"Carlisle says well enough," Jasper replied curtly. "But she ought to stay here the night."
"Unfortunately, the little gypsy has a prior engagement," he said darkly.
Jasper's hands instinctively clenched into fists.
"Wake her," Edward said, ignoring the rage in his friend's eyes.
Jasper sighed and bent down: "Isabella, it's time to wake up now."
He brushed a stray lock of hair from the girl's face and offered her a rueful smile as her sapphire eyes opened.
Isabella glanced up at Jasper and then Edward, clasping the sheets to her chest as she sat up to keep herself covered.
Edward's breath caught in his throat when her wary gaze met his. He had forgotten how stunning her azure eyes were... He wanted those eyes staring up at him with his cock halfway down her throat.
"Leave us, Jasper," Edward said gruffly.
Jasper breathed in sharply but did as he was commanded, catching the girl's eyes for one last meaningful glance before he left the room.
"Gypsy, you have a story to finish telling me," Edward said.
"Now?" She asked quietly.
"No," he said. "Not yet, not here."
Isabella swallowed nervously and fidgeted with the sheets.
"Are you prepared to go to my chambers willingly tonight?" Edward asked. "Or will my guards have the pleasure of escorting you?"
"May I have something to wear?"
"I don't really see the point," Edward said, his amber eyes glowing.
Isabella's fingers tightened around the sheets: "What are you going to do with me?"
"Whatever the fuck I want," Edward said.
"I will go," Isabella said slowly, her eyes flashing. "But know that I go only out of duty to the debt I owe Jasper and not out of any sense of respect or fealty to you."
Edward's smug smile faded and his upper lip curled in anger: "Your impertinence has already earned you one lashing, if I were you I would think very carefully about what you say over the course of this evening."
The girl glared at him, the sting of his whip suddenly fresh in her mind. As much as she loathed the thought of feeling it again, she would not cower before a tyrant.
Edward snapped his fingers and immediately two armed guards entered the tiny room and grabbed her upper arms. Isabella tried to keep hold of the sheets, but as the guards pulled her roughly out of bed, the fabric fell from her body, leaving her naked.
Isabella struggled to free herself from the guards' tight hold, painfully aware that Edward's molten eyes were fixed on her body.
"Please let me cover myself!" She cried indignantly.
Edward smirked: "Stop pretending to have any sense of modesty, gypsy."
"Perhaps you ought to try pretending to have a sense of decency," she spat.
"I'm warning you, girl, mind that tongue of yours."
"Or what?" Isabella hissed. "I'll lose it? Last night you implied you had far more lewd plans for my tongue than cutting it out."
The guards grasping her arms shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followed. The only sound was that of Isabella's heavy breathing as she kept up her struggle to twist away from her captors.
Edward finally gestured to his guards to let the girl go.
The guards released her without hesitation. Isabella immediately knelt to the ground, wincing at the effort as she wound the sheet around her body, clutching the fabric closed before her breasts. She rose to her feet slowly, her eyes meeting Edward's once again.
The king's lips curved into a smile at the mistrust in her eyes. She was right to be wary of him.
He turned around to leave the room, but just as Isabella moved to follow him, he spun on his heel and backhanded her across her face so hard that her knees crumpled beneath her.
Isabella moaned on the floor as Edward loomed above her, his cognac eyes burning.
"Or that," he said, smiling grimly.
"Pick her up," he said to the guards as he stalked out of the room. "I don't give a shit whether she's naked or not."
Isabella had gathered her wits about her enough to latch on tightly to the sheet covering her body. She gripped it as if her life depended on it as the guards pulled her to her feet by her upper arms.
Her cheek stung and it was all she could do to keep from crying, but Isabella held her head high as they marched through the palace. She would endure the pain again if it meant preserving even the slightest shred of her dignity.
When they reached Edward's chambers, the guards walked Isabella through the doors and released her, returning immediately to flank their king in the hallway.
"I have one more piece of business to attend to," Edward said curtly. "In the meantime, get yourself cleaned up, gypsy."
Edward's eyes raked her body and then returned to meet her gaze: "You look awful."
The guards pulled the doors shut and Isabella heard a bolt slide into place and then the booted footsteps of the king and his escort. They faded into silence, and then she was alone.
The girl looked around the empty room, taking it in for the first time. The chamber was majestic, sumptuous and cold. No amount of rich fabrics or priceless marble could make up for the fact that this room was void of any trace of its inhabitant. There were no paintings, no books, no maps. Edward owned everything in that room but nothing in it was his. But for the grandeur of the chamber, it could have belonged to anyone.
Isabella had been in a room like this once before. A dark, rich room filled with cold treasures... She shivered at the memories, banishing them to the back of her mind as she hugged herself tightly.
She walked over to a set of doors on the opposite side of the chamber and pushed them open to reveal the king's private baths. There were scented oils and soaps laid out in perfect order beside the pool of water. She wondered if Edward meant for her to use them. But, then again, the man had given her nothing to wear after bathing... She sighed and returned to the main chamber.
There was another set of doors on the other side of the room. She pulled at the wrought iron handles but they did not open.
"Perhaps these were the queen's chambers?" She whispered to herself, backing away from the locked doors.
Isabella glanced around the room again. She figured she had two options: The first would be to remain swaddled in a sheet, covered in the remains of medicinal paste, until Edward returned. The second would be to make herself quite at home in the king's chambers, use his soaps and oils, wrap herself in his velvet robe, and pour herself a glass of his expensive wine.
The girl's mouth twitched in a smile as she let the sheet fall from her body and strode towards Edward's baths. If he expected her to cave in to his abuse, he was sadly mistaken.
Isabella stepped into the water slowly, gasping as the warm water slowly enveloped her limbs. Her wounds stung at first, but soon the water felt soothing and refreshing. She was liberal with her use of Edward's soaps and oils, and, when she finally emerged from the water, her skin and hair were perfumed with the scents of imported sandalwood and cardamom.
Isabella poured herself a glass of wine while she was still naked. She took a sip of the mulled liquid and sighed as the alcohol settled in her stomach, warming her from the inside out.
She set the goblet down and walked over to Edward's closet.
"Well, I think I can guess what your favorite color is," Isabella scoffed, taking in the various shades of red that dominated Edward's wardrobe.
A flash of blue caught Isabella's eye and she dug through the mass of scarlet fabric until she pulled out a royal blue, sleeveless robe. It was embroidered with gold and bronze stitching and, although it was beautiful, it was far too big for her: It trailed on the ground as she walked and she had to loop the sash around her waist three times.
Isabella picked up the glass of wine and walked out onto the balcony, staring up at the stars that were beginning to appear in the darkening sky. The stars had been her only solace and comfort for many years until they, too, had been stolen from her.
The young girl's eyes glimmered with tears and turned her back on the night sky. Sometimes she wondered why she had been dealt these hands in her life. As if on cue, her tattoos started to tingle - they always did that whenever she began to feel sorry for herself. She inhaled deeply and turned around again, raising her face to the sky.
Edward pushed open the doors to his chamber wearily. It had been a long day: He was tired, hangover, and in no mood to deal with the gypsy's sass.
His room was dark; the girl had not lit a single lamp. Edward lit one of the lamps beside the door, cocking his head when he noticed the girl was nowhere to be seen.
"Gypsy?" He called, continuing to light the room. "Where are you?"
Isabella walked in from the balcony slowly, still sipping on her glass of wine.
Edward turned around when he heard her footsteps and gasped slightly when he saw her. She was wearing his blue robe, the one he had worn the day of his wedding, and it brought out the color of her eyes in a fierce way. She had looped the sash around her waist tightly, emphasizing how slender it was, and every step she took, her long legs flashed from between the folds of indigo fabric.
The king stared at her breathlessly, not certain whether he was angry at her or not. The brazen girl was wearing his clothing, drinking his wine...
"You didn't give me anything to wear," she said, as if reading his thoughts.
"I didn't give you permission to rifle through my closet or help yourself to my liquor either," he said without conviction. She looked stunning in that damn robe, and he wondered suddenly whether the wine would make her any looser.
"You said to clean myself up," she said, shrugging. "It sounded like an order."
"Are you going to follow my orders tonight?"
She took another sip of wine and cocked her head at him: "Do you want me to finish my story?"
Edward nodded and began to undress in front of the girl. Isabella was silent for a moment as the king pulled off his shirt, revealing his broad chest and tight abdomen once again.
The king caught her gaze and raised a brow at her: "Death saw a friend of yours in the market."
"I remember," Isabella said quickly, averting her eyes. "Death gave a man I once knew a terrible look. Death went on his way but the man spied me and begged me for my horse.
"'Where will you go?' I asked him. He said that he would take my horse and go to Mosul, where Death would not find him."
"Did you give it to him?" Edward asked, pulling off his pants.
Isabella's breath caught in her throat at the sight of his member. She drew her eyes up quickly, her cheeks burning at the smugness that flickered in Edward's eyes.
"I did," she said.
Edward turned his back to her and walked into his bathing chamber, motioning for her to follow over his shoulder. He sunk down into the water with a sigh of relief and then gestured for her to continue.
"But after I gave him my horse I went in search of Death. I found him shortly thereafter, picking through the beggars along the wharf.
"'Death,' I said, 'why did you give my friend such a terrible look this morning? You gave him an awful fright.'
"Death was apologetic: 'I did not mean to startle him,' he said. 'It's just I did not expect to see him here.'
"'Why not?' I asked. 'This is where he lives.'
"'I know,' Death said. 'But I have a meeting with him tonight in Mosul.'"
Edward looked up at the girl curiously, the ghost of a smile flickering about his lips: "That is the shortest story I have ever heard."
Isabella shrugged and drained her glass.
She glanced into the empty cup and then looked at Edward: "Not that I owe you the courtesy, but would you like me to pour you a glass?"
The king's amber eyes smoldered but they did not harden. He nodded at the girl, stealing a glance at her swaying hips over his shoulder as she walked away. He wanted to hold onto those slim hips as she rode his cock. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the water, his balls tightening at the thought.
"Here," she said, suddenly standing over him. He reached up to take the glass of wine she offered him.
Isabella lifted the robe and sat down on the edge of the pool, dangling her legs in the water. Edward swallowed at the expanse of her creamy thigh that was visible.
Suddenly there was a sharp rap on the door. Isabella was on her feet in a moment. The king looked at her amusedly as he stood up and climbed the steps out of the pool.
"Don't look so anxious," he said. "It's just the servants."
Edward handed Isabella his glass of wine so that he could wrap a towel around his waist. He opened the door to his chambers, ushering in a pair of servants laden with food. They set the trays down on the table and exited, bowing repeatedly as they went.
As Edward closed the door, Isabella's stomach growled. In all that had happened, she had forgotten that she had not eaten in days.
The king sat down at the table, motioning for Isabella to bring him his wine. She handed it to him and then turned away from the table so that Edward could not catch her staring hungrily at the spiced bread and stewed meats.
Edward began eating, eyeing the girl as he spooned meat onto his plate. He, too, came to the realization that the girl was probably starved.
"Did Carlisle feed you?" He asked.
The girl shook her head.
"Aren't you going to ask to join me, then?" He asked. Perhaps the little gypsy was too proud to beg, that was why she simply took what she wanted instead.
"I asked you for clothes earlier," she said, the faintest tinge of bitterness in her voice. "You could not offer me a servant's rag to wear - why should you offer me a place at your table?"
"And yet, despite my refusal to clothe you, here you are dressed in embroidered silks," Edward said.
The girl shrugged and placed her half-finished wine beside the decanter, making her way out to the balcony once again.
"Do not walk away from me when I am talking to you, gypsy," the king said. "Come back and sit down."
Isabella stopped in her tracks and Edward watched with amusement as her small hands balled into fists. She turned around slowly and sat down opposite him at the small table, her azure eyes glinting.
"You do not like taking orders," Edward said simply.
"No," she said. "I wore the halter for many years and never got used to it."
"Who was your master?"
"He is dead," she said, her eyes leaving Edward's to stare at the food before her.
The king looked at the girl hard, wondering why she refused to answer his question. He only broke the silence when he noticed her longing gaze.
"Gypsy, you may eat," Edward said, "but only if you do something for me first."
"And what is that?" She asked warily.
"Take off that robe, get down on your knees, and suck my cock," he said.
"Sadly, I have completely lost my appetite," Isabella snapped, rising from the table indignantly.
Edward smiled as she stalked off to the balcony. Her former master may not have been man enough to tame her, but he was and he would.
"Fine, come back," he said. He grabbed a piece of bread and held it out to her: "Here you go."
Isabella walked back to him but, before she could even reach for the piece of bread, Edward dropped it on the floor.
"There you go, gypsy," he said. "If you don't want to suck my cock, you can eat off the floor."
The girl shuddered at the pain that welled suddenly in her heart. Her tattoos burned at the injustice she felt inside.
"What did I do?" She whispered, her eyes sparkling.
Edward merely shrugged, his lips curved in a smug smile.
"I am not an animal, I will not eat from the floor."
"Then suck my cock."
Isabella turned away from him: "I think you better get your whip."
"Is that the only thing you respond to?" Edward taunted. "Or perhaps it's just my cock you don't want to suck... Would you get on your knees for your precious Jasper?"
The girl scowled over her shoulder at him, her eyes blazing.
"I thought you gave me your life," Edward said.
"I did," she said, spinning on her heel to face him. "But not my obedience."
Edward rose out of his chair and took two menacing steps towards her: "What is that going to cost?"
"Let me know when you figure that one out."
Edward grabbed a fistful of Isabella's hair at the base of her neck and pulled her to her knees sharply.
"Suck my cock like a good little whore or eat off the floor like a bitch," he growled down at her. "Those are your choices."
"I could just starve," she said through gritted teeth, wincing as Edward tightened his grip on her hair in response.
"Fine, you stubborn little shit," Edward hissed, letting go of her hair. "Starve."
Isabella grimaced as her stomach growled loud enough for Edward to hear.
The king chuckled grimly as he sat down at the table again and loosed his towel, his eyes fixed on Isabella as she promptly looked away.
Edward began to stroke his cock, coaxing it quickly to its full length. His chest rose and fell sharply as his balls grew heavy. He groaned as he waited for Isabella to give in and wrap her lips around his dick. Finally the girl turned her face towards him. His muscles steeled as her gaze slowly roamed over his body before finally meeting his.
"Come on, girl," he said darkly, "you know you want it."
"What I want is food."
"I have plenty of meat for you," he said. "Come show me what a good little cocksucker you are."
Edward chuckled as Isabella began to crawl on her hands and knees towards him but his self-satisfied smile faded quickly when she stopped and picked up the piece of bread he had thrown to the floor instead.
The king was on his feet in an instant, smacking the piece of bread from her hands. Before Isabella had a chance to cry out in protest, Edward's powerful hands were on either side of her head, forcing his cock inside her mouth.
Isabella gagged as Edward shoved his dick down her throat, holding her firmly in place so that she could not push him away, try as she might. He groaned at the feeling of her throat clenching tightly around his cock.
Alright then, that's chapter 3. I hope you like it.
As stated before, I did put a notice before and after the more graphic and violent part of the story.. I hope that is okay.
I really love the response and reviews I had with the first and second chapter. I love the suggestions given and I like that you call me out on my mistakes since I believe that will make me a better writer. So keep them coming.
XOXO Kate :D