"Stop it! I said stop!" Isla screamed, her voice cracking with pure desperation.
But Lucier did not pause for a single, fleeting second. He maintained a brutal, crushing grip on her delicate wrists. He forcefully dragged her fragile body even closer to his own.
Isla fought back with every ounce of her remaining strength. She desperately tried to pull herself backward, away from his suffocating heat.
Lucier easily overpowered her frantic struggles. In one swift motion, he pinned both of her wrists together using just one of his massive hands.
With his other free hand, he reached out into the dark shadows. He snatched the discarded silk knot of her ruined dress right off the cold marble floor.
He wrapped the torn fabric tightly around her trapped wrists. He bound her hands together securely, completely ignoring her terrified, breathless gasps. Isla thrashed wildly. She pulled and twisted, desperately trying to break free from the makeshift restraints.
But the knot was tied far too tight, and her physical strength was completely useless against his.
Once she was helplessly bound, Lucier finally released his iron grip on her wrists.
He leaned back slightly.
A dark, intensely triumphant smirk slowly stretched across his handsome face. He stared down at his beautiful, trapped bride with a terrifying, predatory hunger. Moving with an agonizing, deliberate slowness, he reached out again.
His large, warm hand began to heavily, possessively stroke her bare chest.
"Leave me alone!" Isla cried out, tears of absolute helplessness stinging her eyes.
Lucier completely ignored her desperate plea. His eyes darkened with undeniable lust.
He aggressively grabbed her hips, forcefully pulling her bottom completely flush against his muscular frame.
His rough hands slowly slid downward, his fingers beginning to heavily and deliberately trace the soft, exposed skin of her bare thighs.
Lucier forcefully captured her lips once again. Isla desperately tried to escape. She pulled her head backward, straining frantically against his suffocating hold. But Lucier simply grabbed the back of her head. He violently yanked her flush against his solid frame. He tightly locked his heavy, muscular thighs around hers, trapping her completely.
Their bare chests were pressed tightly together. The terrifying heat of his skin burned against her cold, trembling body.
Lucier's large hand slowly moved upward.
He roughly grabbed her exposed chest. He squeezed her delicate flesh with a ruthless, demanding grip, forcefully pulling her even closer to him.
Thick, agonizing tears spilled continuously from Isla's squeezed-shut eyes. A sharp, suffocating pain radiated through her fragile body.
But Lucier absolutely did not care. He was entirely consumed by his own dark, selfish desires, completely ignoring her silent suffering.
Suddenly, he released her bruised, swollen lips. With a harsh, ruthless jerk, he lifted her trembling body and forcefully flipped her around in the cold water.
She was now facing away from his massive chest. He immediately leaned forward.
He began pressing scorching, aggressive kisses all down her trembling, bare back. His large hands reached around her slender waist from behind. He tightly gripped her chest once again.
He squeezed her flesh heavily, mapping her curves with a dark, greedy hunger.
Slowly, one of his rough hands began to slide dangerously downward. His fingers trailed intentionally toward the vulnerable space between her bare thighs. Absolute panic violently seized Isla's shattered soul.
She instantly clamped her legs tightly shut.
She locked her knees together with every single ounce of her remaining strength, desperately blocking his terrifying advance.
Met with her fierce physical resistance, Lucier simply pulled his wandering hand back up.
He returned his punishing grip to her chest.
He squeezed her skin relentlessly while continuing to devour her bare back with endless, searing kisses.
He moved with a ravenous, unstoppable obsession.
He touched her as if he had been desperately waiting for this exact, terrifying day for his entire life.
Suddenly, he entirely released his crushing grip on her trembling body. He stood up in the cold water, towering over her fragile, panting form like a victorious predator.
"The bath is over, sweetheart," he declared, his voice dripping with a dark, deeply arrogant amusement.
He reached over to the marble edge of the porcelain bathtub, snatching up a heavy glass bottle of dark red wine that had been resting nearby.
Without a single second of hesitation, he aggressively clamped his teeth around the cork. With one vicious jerk, he pulled it out and carelessly spat it onto the floor.
He tilted the bottle back, greedily drinking the rich liquid directly from the neck.
The crimson wine spilled carelessly down his chin, trailing hotly over his own bare, muscular chest, before splashing heavily down onto Isla's pale, trembling body.
His dark eyes flashed with an undeniable, terrifying hunger. He leaned down, aggressively pressing his mouth against her wet skin, and began to ruthlessly lick the spilled wine directly off her bare flesh.
His large, rough hands slowly and possessively trailed down the entire length of her shivering body.
From the delicate curve of her neck all the way down to her bare legs, he touched every single inch of her exposed skin. He heavily, deliberately caressed her wet body, mapping her curves as if she were a conquered territory that completely, undeniably belonged to him.
Then, in one sudden, terrifyingly effortless motion, he reached down and violently hauled her entirely out of the freezing water. He hoisted her up and threw her aggressively over his broad, muscular shoulder like a captured prize.
"Leave me alone!" Isla screamed at the absolute top of her lungs.
Her voice cracked with a fierce, blinding fury, tears of anger and humiliation springing to her brilliant eyes as she frantically kicked and thrashed her legs against his solid, unyielding back.
But he absolutely did not stop. He carried her relentlessly into the grand, dimly lit bedroom and violently threw her straight onto the plush mattress.
He stood over her, his dark eyes raking over her trembling, wet body from top to bottom with a terrifying, predatory hunger.
Isla lay there panting, her knees still fiercely locked together in a desperate bid to protect herself, her wrists still tightly bound by the torn silk knot.
Lucier climbed onto the mattress, planting one heavy knee right beside her. Reaching out with both of his large, ruthless hands, he forcefully grabbed her trembling knees and violently pushed her locked legs apart.
In the very next second, he aggressively lowered his massive body directly on top of hers.
Their wet, bare chests collided heavily. Isla's bare legs desperately dragged and kicked against the silk bedsheets. She absolutely refused to accept defeat.
She pulled and twisted her bound wrists with every single ounce of her fading strength, desperately trying to break the knot, but her frantic struggles were completely, utterly useless.
Lucier pressed himself so terrifyingly close to her that there was absolutely no space left between them to even draw a proper breath.
He ruthlessly tangled his heavy, muscular legs with hers, pinning her lower half down so securely that she could not move a single, agonizing inch.
"Did you truly think you could fight me, 'sweetheart'?" he mocked softly, his voice dark and dripping with absolute arrogance.
Then, moving with a dark, calculated slowness, Lucier slid his large hands down to her slender waist.
With one sudden, powerful pull, he forcefully hoisted her up and flipped their positions entirely.
Isla gasped in breathless shock as she suddenly found herself straddling his hips, forced directly on top of his hard, muscular chest.
Her long, soaking wet hair tumbled forward in heavy, chaotic waves, completely sticking to her flushed cheeks and falling over her terrified, tear-stained face.