Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
My undoing.
I remain captive on an island where the powerful bend reality to serve their deepest, most twisted desires, and obedience is not just expected—it’s survival.
Here, in this hierarchy of shadows, I am bound to the Devil of the Isle.
And our connection runs deeper than I could have ever imagined.
As we spiral further into the abyss of darkness and depravity, I am left with an impossible choice. Surrender to his world completely, or risk everything for a freedom I may never truly grasp.
Captor and captive.
Sin and salvation.
In the end, only one of us will emerge unscathed.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
Waking up without him on top of me felt strangely wrong. It was a disruption of the twisted routine into which we had fallen. Every morning, without fail, Alexander found his way between my legs, staking his claim before the day even began. The absence of his touch wasn’t exactly a relief.
As I shifted, a dull ache in my lower abdomen pulled me back to reality, and I became acutely aware of the dampness beneath me.
Motherfucker.
No—wait, this was a good thing.
Of all the complications swirling around me, my period arriving wasn’t high on my list of problems, but in a way, it was a small victory. Alexander had made it clear he wanted me only for himself before reducing me to a barefoot, pregnant cliché. Yet, I was dutifully drinking fertility smoothies and swallowing pills every morning to increase my chances of conceiving.
And he was insatiable.
His desire for me was both exhilarating and exhausting, leaving me feeling simultaneously desired and objectified. When he wasn’t hard, he used his hands and mouth to keep my body pliant until he could fuck me again. I knew some of this soreness I was feeling had everything to do with him. The irony of the situation was almost comical, but it also made me want to cry. I carefully sat up, clutching the comforter to my body to hide my nakedness.
The feeling of stickiness beneath me only added to the grossness of the whole situation. My cycles were short and never lasted more than four days, but they always managed to be messy and brutal. Every movement felt like a chore as I slowly swung my legs over the side of the bed. The door suddenly creaked open, and my stomach pooled with a mix of dread and surprise when Alexander stepped into the room. His presence filled every inch of the space, his stature commanding as ever.
The first time I had woken up, the sun had yet to fully rise. Now, he stood before me, dressed in a tailored black suit that hugged his well-defined muscles. A crisp white undershirt peeked out from beneath the jacket, contrasting starkly against the dark hues of his attire. His tie, a deep shade of burgundy, added a touch of color to the otherwise monochromatic outfit.
His dark hair was perfectly styled, adding to his imposing yet undeniably attractive appearance. Even the faint scar on the right side of his face, which I was beginning to see as a symbol of his complex past, added to his charm.
"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted me as he closed the distance between us, his steps slowing as he studied my face. "What's wrong?" he asked, his tone gentle yet probing. I tried to respond, but no words would come out. His unwavering gaze searched for an explanation as I clutched the blanket tighter around me.
"I...um," I stammered, feeling humiliated and vulnerable. It wasn’t just the physical discomfort; it was the emotional exposure. Periods were natural—I knew that—but I’d never openly discussed them with men. I hadn’t done much of anything with men in general before all of this. Now there I was, trying to explain my discomfort to the very man who had brought me to his home without my consent.
He reached out, his fingers grazing my cheek with a possessive touch. "You're menstruating," he stated bluntly, his tone devoid of any emotion.
I flinched, both from the unexpected contact and his unnerving perception. How could he always see right through me?
His lips curved into a slight smile as he noticed my shock, his amusement evident in his eyes. "Despite everything we've been through, you still doubt that I know every detail about you?" There was no sign of mockery, just a simple acknowledgment as if this were a casual conversation between us.
I sighed softly and shook my head. “No, I guess I don’t. Or rather I shouldn’t. Sorry.”
"There's no need to apologize, deliciae. You're still learning what it means to be in a relationship like ours," he reassured me in a soft voice. "Wait there a moment." His command was gentle yet firm.
I watched him disappear into the bathroom, and moments later, the sound of rushing water cascaded into the room. Was it the shower or the bath? Either way, I was grateful for the gesture. The warmth of the water always seemed to ease my cramps. When Alexander re-entered the bedroom, he carried himself with a sense of thoughtfulness that I had yet to fully comprehend.
He approached my side of the bed, and without hesitation, I sat up straighter, keenly aware of my disheveled state. In one graceful movement, he pulled back the comforter and then, with gentle hands, lifted me up and carried me toward the bathroom.
"I-I don't need your help," I objected, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tremors of shame coursing through me.