Isle of Sin: A Standalone Dark Romance
Isle of Sin: Chapter 23

Asher Sinner was a master chef.

Hmm, he’s a master lover, too, I thought, rolling onto my side.

He really could just be a master of anything, seduction included.

As evidenced by the pretty pink flower on the pillow beside me.

The last few nights had been all about rewards, typically provided with his tongue between my thighs.

I’d tried to repay the favor a few times, starting with the night he’d introduced me to his cooking skills. But he’d said something about needing to speak to his brother, and I’d fallen asleep while waiting for him to return. Then I’d woken up to a flower—similar to the one staring back at me now.

The following evening, he’d merely held me and hushed me when I’d tried to touch him. “My reward is hearing you come, Adalyn,” he’d said. “I don’t need anything else.”

Need wasn’t the same as want, something I’d almost told him then.

But I’d been too tired to argue.

And then the last two nights, he’d knocked me out with a series of such explosive climaxes that I hadn’t been able to voice any desires beyond a yawn.

I picked up the flower on my pillow and inhaled the sweet scent. “Good morning,” I murmured, thinking of Asher. He wasn’t here, just like every other morning this week.

However, today he’d left me a note by the flower.

I stretched my arms over my head as I sat up, then plucked the white card off the pillow. His elegant scrawl made my lips curl. Somehow it just suited him.

Good morning, beautiful,

You looked so sweet in your sleep that I didn’t want to wake you.

There’s breakfast waiting for you downstairs under the heat lamp on top of the stove.

I needed to run to the airport to see my sister off, but I’ll be back around lunchtime.

—A

I frowned. His sister was leaving today? Why hadn’t he told me? I would have liked to say goodbye. I hadn’t really gotten to know her well, but she’d come over a few times after our dinner. She seemed like someone I could be friends with someday.

Maybe Asher didn’t want us to be friends because of all the Sin Cave business.

I set his card down, my mood falling with it.

That was probably exactly why he hadn’t invited me along to say goodbye—he didn’t want me associated with Darby.

I couldn’t exactly blame him. My world was dark and depraved. Darby’s was all sunshine and happiness, just like Jen’s life back in Oregon.

My chest rose and fell on a sigh. Holding people at arm’s length was what kept them alive. I knew that better than anyone.

There was no use in brooding over it. Worrying never solved anything.

I rolled out of the bed and distracted myself by showering and getting dressed for the day.

Another sundress.

No underwear.

And combed, wet hair.

My trademark wardrobe for the week.

Although, today’s dress was stark white, making me appear almost virginal. I studied it for a second in the mirror, debating whether or not I wanted to change it. I was down to my last three—this one, a dark purple dress, and a black one.

Hmm, if Asher is going to be gone all morning, then I need something to do.

Maybe I’ll eat breakfast and go for a walk on the beach.

I hadn’t explored much, choosing to stay close to his villa. But I’d been craving a date with the ocean. A white dress would suit being in the sun more than purple or black.

Stop overthinking and go eat breakfast, Adalyn.

Rather than stick around and argue with myself, I went downstairs and found a plate of French toast and eggs waiting for me beneath the warmer.

I carefully retrieved it and took it to the table, where Asher had left another note.

There is a little ceramic “boat of syrup” for you in the fridge. Put it in the microwave for thirty seconds.

—A

My lips curled at the quotations in his note. He was quoting me from the other day.

A third note waited for me on the fridge handle.

The orange juice pitcher inside is all for you, sweetheart. Enjoy.

—A

“You certainly have a way of sweetening me up,” I told him. Not that he could hear me. But his notes improved my mood almost immediately.

As did the refreshing taste of all the food.

Definitely a master chef, I mused, finishing almost everything on my plate. It was a perfect portion of food, unlike the time I’d asked for the original boat of syrup.

I cleaned up after I finished eating, then found the sunglasses he’d let me borrow the other day and slipped them on. It was only midmorning, which meant I had a good hour or two to explore on my own.

He’d made it clear that I was free here.

At least until the Sin Cave members arrived. We hadn’t reviewed who exactly would be showing up yet, but I knew my parents and Julian Jovanni were on the list.

The sun warmed my skin the moment I slipped out through the back doors of his villa. I bypassed the pool this time and stepped off the patio onto the beach. The sand burned against my feet, making me hurry toward the ocean shore.

“Ahh,” I hummed as the water cooled the temporary burn. “Definitely a hot day.”

A perfect one for a swim, actually.

But I didn’t want to play in the ocean. It felt a little too out in the open. Maybe I’d take a dip in his pool on my way back in.

Or maybe I’d wait for Asher there whilst naked.

My lips curled at that thought.

Except he’d probably just please me again with his mouth and hands. Which I enjoyed. But I really wanted more. I wanted him.

He spoke about deriving pleasure from making me climax. I felt the same about the notion of bringing him over the edge. There was something so powerful about bringing a man to his knees, weakening his guard, watching him lose his senses for just a few split seconds in time.

Asher was so controlled.

So dominant.

I wanted to see him in those vulnerable moments and know that I’d pushed him there. Maybe even go over that cliff together.

With him inside me.

Pulsing.

Coming.

My thighs clenched. I wanted him to go bare. No barriers. No formalities. Just a Dom taking his sub.

Just Asher taking me.

My fingers curled as I fought the urge to lie here on the beach, spread my legs, and daydream about Asher’s cock.

I hadn’t seen it yet.

Just the rigid outline in his black boxers.

He was long and thick. I knew that much. He would fill me up entirely, maybe even stretch me a bit. A perfect sensation, I marveled, sighing as I closed my eyes and imagined him pumping into me.

Those burning eyes staring down at me.

His strong hands gripping my hips just a little too tightly.

Muscles contracting and flexing as he gave me all his power, driving us both toward—

“Adalyn?”

A chill swept down my spine, chasing away the heat in my veins. I swallowed, my eyes slowly opening to take in the scene around me. I’d been walking blindly down the beach, hugging the water’s edge to protect my feet.

I wasn’t sure how far I’d wandered from Asher’s villa. Maybe half a mile at most?

But I’d clearly entered an area closer to the resort villas.

Yes. There are several right there, I realized, noting the eerily familiar docks that led to three discrete huts, each one evenly spaced to provide a semblance of privacy.

I’d stayed in one just like that.

With Nate.

Was that only a week ago? A little more? I wasn’t really sure. Time had been irrelevant to me here, Asher’s home having allowed me a false sense of safety. Being with him served as an alternate reality of sorts. An escape.

But that dream had just ended.

Because I now stood a mere ten feet away from one of my prior nightmares.

“It is you,” the man said, a sly smile forming over his lips. I couldn’t remember his name, my mind blocking it from my memory. But I knew him. I knew his desires. I knew his kinks. His proclivities. His penchant for making me cry.

“Wandering the beach alone? How daring.” He stepped forward, causing me to shuffle backward on instinct. “Or are you misbehaving?”

I swallowed. “I… Um.” Think, Adalyn. “My Master said I could take a walk.” I took another step back as he continued toward me. “I… I was just about to head back to him.”

“Were you?” His salt-and-pepper hair flashed beneath the sun, his dark eyes resembling Satan’s as he took in my dress. “Seems to me you’re out here being a tease.”

I shook my head. “N-no, my Master said I could go for a walk.”

“In a see-through dress?” He tsked. “I think not, little slut.”

My brow furrowed. See-through dress? It was light-colored, so maybe in the sunlight—

I jumped backward as he neared me. “My Master doesn’t like to share.”

He arched a brow. “And now you’re lying?” His resulting chuckle was deep and menacing. “Oh, you really are inviting punishment, aren’t you?”

He lunged for me and I skipped backward. “No!”

His smile turned into a scowl. “You know I’m not into chasing. Kneel before I beat your ass, Adalyn.”

My knees threatened to obey, my heart skipping wildly in my chest.

Run! Some part of me yelled. Run before he grabs you!

I started stumbling backward, faster, picking up my pace, only for my ankle to hit a rock, twisting it and sending me down.

“Fucking brat,” the man snarled.

Brevington, some dull part of my mind whispered. Mitchell Brevington.

That was his name.

In his late forties. Married. Enjoys flogging. The facts just kept rolling in my mind, distracting me from trying to scramble away from him.

My need to obey was overriding my desire to flee.

Because I knew better than to fight. Bad things happened when I fought.

Except, I killed Nate…

Oh, he must not know yet.

Unless… Did Asher…?

No. No, he wouldn’t do that.

What if he did? a dark part of me whispered. What if this was all a game to lull me into a state of contentment? Just for Mr. Brevington—

He grabbed hold of my hair and yanked me out of the ocean, making me scream.

“Now you’re just trying to make me hard,” he accused, tossing me onto the beach. The sand stuck to my skin, making me feel as though I were sinking into it as he stood over me. “Kneel.”

My pulse raced, my throat working to swallow, to speak, to scream. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if anyone would come.

Maybe this was all a lie.

Why else would this monster be here?

Asher had shown me the emails. He’d told them all not to come.

But maybe… maybe it had been a lie. A ruse. A way to trick me into a trusting state.

My vision began to swim, my insides twisting. No. I… I believed him. I… I trusted him.

Yet I’d known from the beginning that it was all some dark form of torture, the worst punishment I’d ever receive.

Because I’d killed Nate.

I’d done the one thing that would sentence me to a lifetime of torment.

Asher had almost convinced me that he was my savior, that I could stay here, be safe.

However, Mr. Brevington’s presence proved it all to be a fucked-up game. A way to finally break me. To crush what little spirit I had left.

To make me have feelings…

Just…

Just to rip them all away.

It wasn’t true. None of it was true.

Mr. Brevington’s foot met my side as he kicked me hard enough to leave a bruise. “Kneel, bitch.” He followed it up with another slamming sensation against my ribs. His foot? His fist? I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t seem to see straight. Everything was blurring. Turning dark. My world tunneling as I fought to hold on to my strength.

But I could feel it slipping.

Disappearing.

Shattering.

None of it was real, I whispered to myself, curling into a ball as Mr. Brevington hit me again. Asher lied to me. He tricked me. He invited this vile man here to break me.

Water stung my eyes.

The ocean.

No, tears.

Maybe both.

I couldn’t process the dampness or the agony shooting up my side. None of it compared to my heart fracturing in my chest.

Ice followed, freezing me, numbing me from the sensations unfolding around me.

I closed my eyes.

I stopped listening.

I willed myself not to breathe.

What did it matter? I’d experienced bliss for such a short period of time. A vacation from my hellacious existence.

Dreams to last a lifetime, I thought, the word sticking in my mind.

My safeword.

Would it work? Would Asher stop this madness if I spoke the word aloud? Was this a test? To convince me to believe in him?

Or some wicked trial meant to make me suffer all that much more?

My lips parted.

That word was all I had.

If it would end this torment… If it would bring him to me… It was worth my pride to try.

“Dreams,” I breathed, wincing as I felt hands grasping my wrists and shoving them into the sand.

Someone snarled in response.

Mr. Brevington.

“Dreams,” I repeated, hanging on to that word as though it was my sole lifeline. “Dreams!”

“Shut the fuck up!” he shouted, his fist slamming into my jaw so hard I saw stars.

But I couldn’t stop saying my word. “Dreams.” It was my anchor. The only lifeline that I knew existed. “Dreams.” Asher had to hear me. He had to save me. He’d promised… vowed… not to share me. “Dreams!”

Mr. Brevington’s palm covered my mouth, shoving sand over my tongue and making me gag.

I bit him in response, my teeth sinking into his skin as my limbs filled with the need to fight. To hurt. To react.

“Dreams!” It came out garbled, the sand choking me and making me hack as I tried to remove this man from my body.

My knees angled upward, catching his thighs.

He shouted profanities, trying to shut me up, telling me to stop fighting, hitting me.

I slapped him back.

Only to have my wrists caught again.

“Dreams!”

Asher had to hear me. He had to stop this. He’d promised me. He’d said that was my word. That it would make it all stop.

I couldn’t see beyond the tears or hear beyond the roar of the ocean.

I couldn’t breathe.

Mr. Brevington’s hands were around my throat, strangling me.

But my hands were free again.

I grabbed his wrists, digging my nails into his skin, demanding freedom, begging for air!

His vicious laugh pierced my mind, his grip tightening.

I’m going to die.

Asher ignored my safeword.

Asher lied.

It was all… it was all…

My mental voice broke off on a sob, my insides shrieking with the need to breathe.

I tried to knee him again, but I couldn’t reach him the way I needed to. My nails weren’t making him stop despite the blood pooling beneath my fingertips.

My hand curled into a fist as I tried to hit him.

Narrowly skimming his jaw. No, his shoulder.

I couldn’t tell.

Some bone.

Some… something…

Oh God…

Everything was turning black. Sensation… was… cooling. No, heating. Heating and cooling.

Dreams.

What a perfect safeword.

An amazing trick.

I’d always known dreams didn’t exist. And neither, it seemed, did the safety Asher had promised me.

The… the vows…

Lies.

Dreams… are…

“Adalyn!”

I didn’t recognize the voice. Just another male. Probably joining in on the fun with Mr. Brevington.

That would explain the loss of his weight. The other guy probably told him to move to take his turn with me.

My eyes remained unseeing, my ears flooding with rhythmic waves. It also seemed cruel to be taken by something so tranquil.

But everything else in my life had been ruined by the desires of men.

So why not destroy the beach for me, too?

“Adalyn?” that voice repeated, something warm touching my cheek. “Fuck. Get me Dr. Zansky! And throw that asshole in holding. Asher’s going to want a word.”

“He’s going to want a hell of a lot more than that,” someone else said.

I recognized one of them.

I couldn’t figure out which one it was, though.

My mind wasn’t working properly. All I could whisper was “Dreams.” The word resembled cement against my tongue, my hope dying a little more with each time I said it.

Until there was nothing left inside me.

Only darkness.

And a strong desire to sleep.

Without dreams.

Because dreams don’t exist.

Not for a woman like me.