The King and His Isabella

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: All twilight characters are not mine. Just the plot of the story.

"Fuck that feels good," he breathed. Edward looked down at the girl and growled under his breath when he saw that her eyes were clamped tightly shut.

"Open your eyes," he said. "Look at me."

Isabella's sapphire eyes fluttered open and she stared up at Edward, tears gleaming in her eyes at the unholy lust she saw in his.

Edward moaned as he slowly fucked the girl's throat, his eyes fixed on hers as he pushed his hard dick in and out of her mouth. He had not realized how much he needed to feel her lips wrapped around his cock until that moment.

Isabella held back her tears as best she could but it was difficult when he was forcing her to stare up at him. She could feel his fingernails digging into her skull as he fucked her mouth and with each thrust he ground her face against the nest of dark hair that surrounded his cock.

Edward's pace quickened as he came closer and closer to cumming. His balls tightened and he moaned as he felt the pressure building. Finally he pulled out of her mouth and held her face before his cock as he came, covering her cheeks and lips with his cum. He panted as he stared down at her cum-covered face, laughing breathlessly as a single tear dripped down the girl's cheek, mixing with his semen.

He let go of her with one hand and wiped the tip of his dick across her lips before releasing her completely. Isabella slumped to her knees, unshed tears filling her eyes.

"Get up," Edward said, wrapping himself in his robe and returning to his seat at the table. "Go clean your face."

Isabella stood up slowly and retreated to the king's bathing chamber. She knelt down by the edge of the pool and brought handfuls of water to her face, washing away the cum and tears covering her cheeks. She sat staring at the ripples in the water for a while, so lost in her own thoughts that she did not realize Edward had entered the room.

"Gypsy?" Edward asked.

Isabella started at the king's voice and rose to her feet slowly.

"I thought you were hungry," he said.

The girl nodded, water still sparkling on her face.

"Come eat then."

Isabella followed him back into the main room. He pushed out the chair for her and then sat back down.

The girl sat down and reached tentatively for a piece of bread, as if expecting him to slap it away from her at any moment. Edward watched her as she nibbled at the spiced loaf.

"When was the last time you ate?" He asked, his voice lacking its usual gruffness.

Isabella shrugged: "A few days ago. Before the storm."

"Then you are right to restrain yourself," he said. "Your body will need to readjust to food."

She nodded and resumed her quiet eating. Edward had long forgotten the half-finished plate in front of him.

"The storm wrecked the vessel you were aboard?" He asked. He knew he should not care where she came from. She was a wandering vagrant - of no consequence to anyone.

"Yes," she said. "I was hoping to -"

The girl stopped mid-sentence and shook her head: "It does not matter now."

"You were alone?"

Isabella nodded.

"The only reason your description of me as a gypsy is accurate is because I have no home," she said. "But I am not kin to that nomadic people."

Edward was a perceptive man, and however depressed and angry he might have become, his powers of observation and his judgment of character had not faded. The girl was not what she seemed - her accent was refined, her diction was impeccable. He had known from the moment he saw her that she was no gypsy.

"Can you read?" He asked abruptly.

Isabella nodded.

"Did your former master teach you?"

The girl's eyes narrowed and her jaw set: "No. He did not."

"Well he certainly didn't teach you obedience," Edward said, his tone rough again.

"He tried," she said. "If you could read these tattoos, you would understand."

"I don't give a damn what he did to you," Edward said. He stood up from his seat and went to pour himself another glass of wine.

"Eat some meat," he said, sitting down again.

Isabella lifted a piece of fish onto her plate and began to eat slowly, savoring each well-seasoned bite. She wondered when he would let her eat like this again.

"Tell me another story," Edward said, swirling his wine contemplatively.

"What kind of story?"

"Anything," Edward said, rubbing his forehead with one hand.

Isabella swallowed her last bite of fish and then stared at the king long and hard.

"Do you keep falcons?" She asked.

Edward nodded, his burning gaze fixed on the girl.

"Then you have seen the cunning and ruthlessness of a predator in the yellow eyes of an animal. But, can you imagine it in the eyes of a man?"

The walls of the chamber seemed to melt away with the girl's words and, in his mind's eye, Edward suddenly found himself in the middle of the desert, staring into the yellowed eyes of a hardened criminal. Nothing else existed while she spoke, not even the dull throb of the king's broken heart.

"Qadir was such a man," she said, her eyes flashing, as if she had known this man herself and his existence made her angry and fearful all at once. "The kind of man that even the most deadly animals shy away from. The kind of man whose own mother would have drowned him in infancy had she known what he was to become.

"His real name was known to only one person. The rest of the kingdom knew him only as Qadir, the Bandit of Baghdad and King of the Forty Thieves."

"Who knew his real name?" Edward asked when Isabella paused for more than a second.

"His brother," she said. "But where he was or what his name was, was just as much of a mystery.

"It was rumored that Qadir's brother looked just like him. But, even if it happened to be true, no one knew what Qadir looked like. He was always swathed in black, appearing out of the shadows of the dunes like a wraith, and the only part of his face visible beneath the dark mask he always wore were those yellow eyes."

Isabella glanced at Edward. Although his eyes were fixed on her, she suspected he was in another world.

"Qadir and his bandits were becoming increasingly brazen with each successful raid. No merchant leaving or entering the city was safe. An attack on the city itself seemed imminent."

Isabella stopped when Edward's leg brushed against hers under the table. He did not move it away.

"Keep going," he murmured.

"The city could not hope to fight Qadir head-on," she continued. "The army was small, undisciplined, untrained. Qadir's men were elite warriors. They were vicious, ruthless... The city's only hope was to find a way to outsmart the bandit.

"But who could they send that Qadir would not kill on sight? Who would dare attempt to infiltrate the robbers' ranks? If discovered, the punishment would certainly be death."

Isabella paused for a moment, smiling slightly to herself: "Only a fool."

"A fool indeed," Edward smirked. "What was this fool's name?"

"Mo."

Edward snorted in spite of himself.

"A bigger fool than Mo had never blundered through the streets of Baghdad. He was a handsome young rogue with a kind heart and a thick head. The only being who never tried to take advantage of Mo's good looks and dim wits was Noor. His camel."

Edward's lips twitched into a smile.

"Don't laugh," Isabella said quickly. "Noor was the cleverest camel that ever existed.

"If she could have talked Mo out of the plan she would have. But Mo was easily swayed by the city council's arguments. He had no thought for danger.

"He waltzed out into the desert as if he owned it, Noor grumbling behind him all the way. Occasionally she would take a gentle nip at his behind, making him howl and swat at her good-naturedly.

"Finally Noor got so fed up with Mo that she jogged in front of him and spat full in his face.

"And that was when the desert echoed with a sound that had never been heard before. A harsh, grating sound that sent shivers through the bandits' bones. A sound so peculiar that Noor turned around and brayed in response just in case it happened to be a camel with a vicious cold."

Isabella paused and cocked her head at the king, who was looking bemusedly at her.

"What was it?" Edward prompted when she did not continue.

"Qadir's laugh," the girl said simply.

Edward chuckled quietly to himself, imagining the desert echoing with the dark guffaws of a man unused to smiling. How the bandit's cheeks would have ached...

The king suddenly realized that Isabella's brilliant eyes were fixed on him. She was waiting for him to ask for more.

He licked his lips and leaned forward across the table: "We will let the servants clear this away if you are satisfied. Then I want to hear more."

Isabella rose from the table with Edward. The king tapped on the door and oversaw the servants as they removed the platters of food and replaced them with a bowl of dried fruit and nuts.

He latched the door shut again and turned around to find the girl staring at him. He walked up to her slowly, his keen eyes taking in the way her lips began to tremble ever so slightly with apprehension as he closed the gap between them.

Edward leaned forward, almost kissing her as he spoke: "Did you come from the sea or a story?"

The young girl's breath caught in her throat as she found herself trapped in the liquid amber of Edward's eyes. In that instant, the king grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her towards him, silencing her with a kiss.

Isabella's eyes widened and then closed. She did not know what to think or do other than accept the kiss.

Edward pulled away from her ever so slightly and stared deeply into her eyes. Isabella realized all at once and all too late that he was hungry for much more than a kiss.

"Don't you want to hear the rest of the story?" She asked anxiously, trying to push Edward away from her.

"My loins do not ache for your stories," Edward purred.

The king scooped her into his arms and walked her across the room, refusing to let her struggle away. He threw her onto the bed and pulled off his robe.

As Edward climbed onto the bed, Isabella tried to back away from him but she quickly found herself tangled in his silken sheets.

"My loins ache for your body," Edward growled lustily, grabbing at her long legs and pulling her towards him. "I want that tight little body sweating beneath me. I want you to scream out my name and announce to the world that you are nothing but the sultan's slut."

Isabella yelped as the king looped his arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against his body. His skin was on fire and sweat dripped from his hair as she tried to struggle away.

"No, no, no," Edward rasped in her ear. "You aren't going anywhere."

"Edward! Ah, stop!" Isabella cried, trying as hard as she could to twist out of his grasp. "Let me go!"

The king laughed into her neck and then began to bite at her skin, making her scream with each painful bite. Edward's cruel mouth travelled up her neck slowly and then across her jaw until he captured her mouth in a searing, searching kiss. Isabella tried not to respond to the kiss and, as he drew away, Edward punished her by biting her lower lip and pulling it between his teeth until it slipped from between them.

"Come now, gypsy, surely that's not how your kind kiss."

"Stop this," Isabella said through gritted teeth.

"Well if you can't be useful, be quiet," Edward snarled beneath his breath, pressing his forearm against her throat to choke her into silence.

Isabella's sapphire eyes widened in shock as she struggled to breathe. She felt as if he might kill her then and there. Edward simply laughed darkly and then began to use his other hand to pull off the robe she was wearing. He tugged loose the knot at her waist and wrenched open the sash, pulling the robe wide so he could explore the gypsy's body.

He grabbed at her breasts and slapped them, his eyes never leaving hers as he pinched her nipples so harshly she couldn't help but let out a choked, agonized cry.

"Feels so good you want to scream, doesn't it?" He taunted. "Huh, little gypsy? Are you finally getting what you wanted? Your cunt must be on fire from want."

As he spoke, the king's hands raked down Isabella's body, leaving long, thin scratches down her flat stomach. His fiery eyes burned into the girl's eyes as he slid a hand between her thighs. With all the strength she could muster, Isabella bucked her hips and held her thighs tightly closed.

Edward broke his gaze so that he could press his face against the young girl's. His teeth dragged across her skin as he growled at her: "Why are you resisting? You want my cock, you fucking slut. You want this."

Isabella tried to scream but her choking cry was only met by Edward's harsh laughter. He moved his arm slightly for a moment to allow the girl a couple desperate breaths but then quickly pushed his forearm against her throat once more.

Isabella could feel her strength slipping from her with each passing moment. The king buried his face against her neck and groaned as he finally forced her thighs apart enough for his fingers to reach her sex.

The girl let out a muffled cry and bucked her hips as Edward pushed a finger inside her. The king's breath was hot on her neck as he slowly fucked her with his finger.

"Fuck, your pussy is as tight as your ass," he murmured darkly. "It's going to feel so good clenching around my cock."

Isabella clamped her eyes shut to keep her tears from spilling from them as Edward pushed his body between her legs. She could feel the length of his hardness rubbing against her lower belly as he settled between her thighs.

He pulled his fingers from her pussy and wiped them across her tits. Then he positioned his cock at the entrance of her sex and drove himself inside her. Hard.

Isabella let out a strangled cry as the king's length filled her. She could feel the tip of his cock pressing against her insides.

Edward moved his arm from her throat but placed his hand over her mouth to keep her moans muffled. Her pussy was so tight that he could barely move his cock inside her.

"I will go slowly," he said, moving his hips against hers in a circular motion. "So you can savor every inch of my cock."

A single tear glistened on Isabella's cheek as he began pumping in and out of her. She could feel his balls press against her with every stroke.

"You're my little whore," he whispered against her neck. "All mine."

Isabella moaned beneath his hand as he pushed his cock even deeper inside her, grinding his pelvis against hers.

"I can't help it," he sighed in her ear, "I need to have you. I need every inch of your body."

Edward did not pick up his pace as he came closer and closer to climax, but Isabella could hear in his voice that he was going to cum soon.

"I'm going to ruin you," he rasped. "No man will ever want you by the time I'm through with you."

Isabella's body shuddered under his. He did not care whether it was out of fear or pleasure, either would satisfy his dark needs. Suddenly Edward was cumming, groaning as he emptied his balls deep inside her.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," he breathed. "I'm cumming, you little shit."

Edward's own body shuddered as he finally buried the last of his seed deep in Isabella's tight pussy and collapsed on top of her.

The king lay on top of her for a few moments before he raised himself on one elbow and lifted his hand off her mouth.

Isabella's lips were trembling and her eyes flashed with anger and tears she had yet to shed.

Edward stared breathlessly into the girl's blazing blue eyes but quickly pushed himself off her when he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in her dark pupils. He looked like a wild man, his face contorted with lust. He stood up from the bed abruptly and walked to pick up his abandoned robe.

Isabella sat up in the bed slowly, covering herself with the robe Edward had torn from her.

The king walked into his bathing chambers and returned with a towel.

"Go clean off," he said, tossing the towel at her. "I don't want you getting cum on the sheets."

Isabella slid off the bed shakily, clutching at the towel as she walked into the next chamber. She pulled off the robe and stepped into the pool once again, letting the warm water wash the stains of sex from her limbs.

A few minutes later Edward walked into the room and picked up the robe she had been wearing.

"I will find something for you to wear," he said gruffly. "Hurry up and bathe."

Edward turned his back on the girl and stalked across his chambers to the locked doors that led to his ex-wife's chambers. He pulled a key from a small desk of drawers that stood by the doorway and turned it in the gold lock.

The king took a deep breath and pushed open the doors. He had not been in this room in months. He stepped inside hesitantly - nothing had changed. The servants had kept it exactly as Irina had left it. He steeled his nerves and walked to the queen's closet. He pulled the armoire open and sifted roughly through the garments. Every single item of clothing brought back a memory of his Irina... And he could not bear to see the gypsy in any one of them.

Edward growled and slammed the closet doors shut, exiting the chambers with such haste he almost forget to lock the doors behind him. He was just returning the key to its place in the chest of drawers when he heard Isabella pad softly back into his chamber.

He turned around and cleared his throat. She was wrapped in the towel he had given her but the cotton cloth barely covered her torso.

Isabella's eyes lit on him angrily and her fingers gripped the towel tightly: "Did you find something for me to put on?"

"No," he said. "I will have the servants bring you something in the morning."

"The morning?" Isabella repeated. "What am I to wear tonight?"

"I don't think you need to wear a damn thing," Edward said. He began putting out the lights in the room one by one until only the lamp by his bedside was lit.

"And where am I to sleep?" The girl asked icily.

"That is entirely your choice," Edward said, loosening his robe once again. He climbed into bed and made himself comfortable amongst the pillows.

"You can share my bed," he continued. "Or, you can pick a nice, comfy spot on the floor."

"I have slept on floors far colder and dirtier than your marble tiles," Isabella muttered.

"And yet I doubt you have slept in a bed as cosy as this one," Edward said.

The girl's brow furrowed and her sapphire eyes flittered between the bed and the floor.

"If this is to be my last night," she said finally, "then I suppose I should take advantage of your generosity."

Edward's eyes widened slightly as he remembered his threat the night before. The girl had already survived one day more than he had intended.

"Yes, you should," he said brusquely.

Isabella approached the bed slowly.

"Take the towel off and get in bed," Edward sighed in exasperation.

The girl slipped the towel off and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over herself and curling up as far away from the king as she could.

Edward chuckled slightly but did not say anything. He blew out the candle and closed his eyes, praying for sleep to take him. He could not be sure how long he lay there, his restless mind keeping him awake with its ceaseless ruminations. Finally he opened his eyes and looked around the darkened room. Moonlight streamed in through the open balcony doors and fell softly upon Isabella's sleeping form.

He moved over in the bed softly, trying not to wake the girl. He reached out a tentative hand and ran it through the fair curls that tumbled across the pillow, fingering one of the charms braided into her hair. Edward froze as Isabella moaned softly and rolled over. He let out a quiet sigh of relief as he realized she was still asleep.

Edward noticed then that one of her arms was above the covers and he began to study the tattoos that covered it carefully. They were Daarken, that much he knew, but his understanding of the strange language was rudimentary. He could make out only a few words: "arms", "eyes", "voice"... Edward was so lost in attempting to read the girl's tattoos that he did not notice the sudden expression of pain and fear that clouded her sleeping countenance. It was only when Isabella began to cry that he realized all at once she was in the grip of a terrible nightmare.

"No, no, no," the girl sobbed in her sleep. "Don't. No, no."

Edward pulled the girl into his arms, holding her gently against his chest as she cried. He had always thought it bad luck to wake a person while they were dreaming, a personal superstition he had had since childhood. He closed his eyes and held the trembling girl, planting reassuring kisses on her shoulder as she rambled nonsensically between sobs.

"Never surrender," she murmured. "Not to you."

Eventually the dream ended and Isabella's tears subsided but Edward fell asleep with his powerful arms wrapped around the girl. For a moment, at least, he could pretend to have someone who loved him in his arms.

~~oooo~~~

Hi!

Thanks for reading.

First, I would like to thank all the people who checked in on my story those who reviewed and followed. It surely means a lot to me.

I'm sorry I haven't been able to reply to all the reviews as I usually just check my email on my phone and it won't let me reply there. But I am grateful for each one. Each review, follow and favorite is like taking a bite of the most moist and decadent chocolate cake so please keep them coming.

By the way, I would like to get your opinion. Per the response of the third chapter it seems that a longer chapter does not get as much response as the shorter ones like the first and second chapter. Please leave a review and tell me if you would rather have a longer chapter like chapter 3 or a shorter one like this chapter.

Again, thank you all so much for your support. It means the world to me.

XOXO Kate :D