Because of Isabella's morning joke, Julian avoided her all day.
They ate breakfast together.
He ate very little before claiming he was full.
He said he had plans to meet a friend.
He promised to bring her lunch.
He told her to take her medicine after eating.
Then he fled.
At noon, he brought her takeout from a hotel.
It was chicken soup and rice.
He dropped it off and left immediately.
He returned at five in the afternoon to cook dinner.
He found she had already prepared the meal.
"You're back?" Isabella smiled lightly and greeted him. "Come eat."
Julian hesitated.
He walked over. "Isabella, why did you cook?"
She smiled. "I usually cook for myself. I was hungry, so I did. You don't need to prepare meals for me on a schedule. If you're busy tomorrow, don't come. I can take care of myself."
This was so normal compared to her morning 'joke.'
He almost doubted it was the same person.
Perhaps the morning remark really was just a joke.
Isabella's cooking skills were decent after years as a homemaker.
She had made three dishes and a corn and pork rib soup.
She ladled a bowl of soup for him. "Try it."
"Thank you." He took it.
He drank a spoonful with his head down. It tasted good.
He looked up at her. "It's delicious."
She smiled gently. "Have more."
He smiled. "Okay."
The woman's smile blurred in his vision.
He slumped weakly onto the table.
When he woke again, he was still in the chair.
His hands were tied behind the chair's back.
His feet were bound to the chair's legs.
He couldn't move.
The table had been moved aside.
Isabella stood before him.
He shook his head to clear it.
"Isabella..." He looked at her. "What did you do to me?"
She smiled faintly. "Haven't done anything yet."
He was stunned.
The morning joke was no joke at all.
The soup must have been drugged. What had she given him?
She saw his question and explained. "Just a little sedative. It's harmless."
She wore her usual slip nightgown.
The flesh-toned silk gown clung to her curvaceous body.
Her long hair cascaded like seaweed down her back.
She was barefoot.
Her pale, jade-like toes looked delicate against the dark floorboards.
She intended to seduce him but assumed no vulgar pose.
She was beautiful enough.
Simply standing before a man would stir his primal desire to possess.
He stared at her blankly.
She stepped forward and stood beside him.
She smoothed the hair from his forehead.
Her fingers lightly brushed his eyes. "So handsome."
She leaned down and kissed his cheek.
He struggled, trying to evade her. "Isabella, let me go. What are you doing? What's wrong with you? Stop this!—"
She cupped his face and gazed at him silently.
Tears welled in her eyes, filling them with sorrow.
It was a heartbreaking sight.
He froze, forgetting to struggle.
She kissed him again.
This time on the lips.
The boy's lips were even redder and more attractive than hers.
They tasted pure and fresh.
She started with a light taste, then deepened the kiss.
Her tongue chased his, kissing him deeply.
She only released him when they were both breathless.
Then, she went for his pants.
He wore black casual pants with a drawstring.
They were easy to undo.
She pulled the drawstring and tugged them down.
A dense dark forest was revealed.
His soft member lay dormant there.
The boy's face flushed crimson. No woman had ever seen him there.
"Isabella, don't... What are you trying to do— Mmm—" He groaned.
She grasped his flesh, already impressive even when soft.
With just a few strokes, it swelled as if inflated.
She knelt on the floor between his legs.
She leaned down and took the tip of his shaft into her mouth.
His face turned so red it seemed to drip blood. His voice trembled. "I... can't. Don't do this. Let me go, Isabella!—"
She didn't look up.
She used her hands and mouth together, stroking and sucking.
She did everything to please him.
If he felt good, he would stop resisting.
It was indeed pleasurable. Excruciatingly so.
He could no longer speak.
His bound hands strained fiercely.
He had never experienced this before and couldn't withstand it.
He tried to hold back from climaxing.
But the more he resisted, the stronger the urge became.
He wanted to break free from the ropes.
He wanted to escape this devastating, immoral pleasure.
She was his brother's woman. He couldn't—
"Ugh!—" A long, drawn-out cry escaped him.
He ejaculated.
Into Isabella's mouth.
The sensation was utterly sublime.
More exhilarating than the relief after holding urine for too long.
More satisfying than receiving rain after a long drought.
It made one marvel that such an incredible feeling existed in the world.
But the next second, he plunged into deep self-reproach.
His brother's woman had made him come.
Shame and guilt filled him with grief and anger.
He truly didn't understand why she was doing this.
"Let me go!" He thought it was over.
She looked up at him.
Traces of his white release lingered at the corner of her mouth.
Against her crimson lips, the white stood out, blatant and erotic.
She gazed up at him for a moment.
Then she slowly stood.
Her eyes held a hint of laziness and amusement.
She casually wiped her lips.
She crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed the hem of her gown, and pulled it up.
She discarded the nightgown on the floor.
She stood completely naked before him.
His pupils contracted sharply. "You—"
She approached him again.
She lifted his softened member and began stroking it slowly.
It hardened much faster than she expected.
Soon, it was rigid as iron in her hand. "So quick!" she remarked with experienced surprise.
It wasn't as substantial as his brother Alexander's, but it was still impressive.
The color was pale, only slightly darker than the rest of his skin.
The shape was pleasing—thick but not menacing.
His face paled, as if anticipating her next move.
He struggled again. "Isabella, that's enough! Aren't you afraid my brother will find out? If he knows—"
"He'd probably go insane." She smiled indifferently.
She straddled his thighs.
One hand rested on his shoulder.
The other guided his shaft to her entrance.
She rubbed the head against her slit.
Soon, she was wet. "Mmm..." She guided him in and slowly lowered herself.
She took the entire length inside her.
"Mmm—" The boy bit his lower lip and groaned.
His bound hands clenched into fists behind the chair.
The ropes left red marks on his wrists from his struggles.
He was having sex with Isabella. His brother's woman.
She sat on his lap, her toes barely touching the floor.
She hooked her arms around his neck and began moving up and down.