Andrey's low, hungry reply a wide grin in his voice as he continued to thrust, mercilessly pushing her limits.
Isabel could sense his satisfaction radiating through the dark, but her blindfold kept his face a secret. She strained against the cuffs, overwhelmed by the sensations wracking her body.
But what Isabel didn't know what her blindfold shielded from her was the dark truth: it wasn't Andrey inside her each time. One after another, different men took their turn, using her as a vessel for their desires, while Andrey and Lira stood at the edge of the room, grinning wickedly as every man in the chamber sampled Isabel's helpless, feverish body.
Something was wrong. Isabel could feel it in her bones the air was too still, too heavy. Her wrists were bound, her legs restrained, and darkness wrapped around her like a suffocating veil. She could hear faint laughter somewhere in the room low, unfamiliar, and cruel.
"Andrey… what are you doing?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
