Isaac stirred at the light slap against his cheek. To Victoria, it appeared he was just waking from deep sleep. In reality, he'd been awake since the moment she entered his room. Every soft footstep. Every quiet breath. Every second of her gaze wandering over his body. He had sensed it all.
He wasn't entirely sure things would play out the way he'd pictured them, but since upgrading his intelligence, it felt like he could predict outcomes with startling accuracy. Was this the advantage of having enhanced intellectual capabilities?
As for why Victoria would come to his room while everyone else slept, he could make several educated guesses. Her reaction after seeing him earlier meant she at least remembered what had happened. Or had some sense of it. But the main question now was how to take control of this situation. How to make her feel even more conflicted about what she was experiencing.
After a moment of careful consideration, an idea crystallized in his mind.
Getting up slowly, Isaac looked around with deliberately unfocused eyes. He acted as though he were just emerging from a deep sleep.
"Who's that?" he asked, his voice groggy and confused. Like someone who had just been jolted awake from a peaceful dream.
His gaze drifted lazily across the room before finally seeming to focus. The moment he registered who was standing there, his entire body shivered. His eyes widened in what appeared to be genuine shock. He grabbed the bed sheet and yanked it up to cover himself, shifting backward on the bed as if he had seen a ghost.
The fear in his expression looked so real. So visceral. Victoria felt confused on what was going on.
What had happened to make him react like this? She had expected many things when she came here. Defensiveness. Denial. Maybe even smugness. But not this. Not this raw terror that seemed to emanate from every line of his body. Something was very wrong. She just couldn't tell if it was with him, or with her, or with this entire impossible situation.
"Ma'am," Isaac whispered, his voice trembling as he clutched the bedsheet tighter around himself.
As the word left his lips, he focused his thoughts. A crimson-gold mark appeared on his hand, shaped like a droplet of honey. It was visible only to him. Honeyed Whisper activated, lending his words a subtle enchantment that would make them more persuasive to willing ears. He already understood how it worked, having tested its potential earlier today when he needed to slip away from school unnoticed.
"Please," he continued, his voice breaking. His eyes remained wide with what appeared to be genuine terror. "Please don't." He swallowed hard, shrinking further into the headboard. "I won't tell anyone about what happened. I promise. Just... just please don't make me do it again."
Victoria felt her blood run cold. "What are you talking about?"
"You... you don't remember?" Isaac's expression shifted to disbelief, as if he'd heard the most absurd thing in his entire life. "How can you not remember forcing yourself on me?" he stammered, his voice carrying just the right note of traumatized vulnerability. "It all happened when you called me into your room, ma'am. I said no that we shouldn't do it but you still forced me onto the bed."
Technically she did force herself on me, Isaac thought, but I don't think that will matter if I tweak it a little in my favor.
The words hung between them like a death sentence, each syllable driving deeper into Victoria's consciousness as the horrifying implications sank in.
Everything hit her like a physical blow. Fragmented memories flooded back suddenly, horrifyingly clear. She saw herself pushing him onto the bed, her hands on his body, the way he'd looked up at her with confusion and fear.
"No," she whispered, stepping backward. "No, that's not... that can't be..."
But Isaac's reaction when he'd first seen her, the way he'd covered himself in terror it all made sickening sense now. The memories kept coming, each one more damning than the last, painting a picture she desperately wanted to deny.
"There's no way," she breathed, staring at him in horror. She wouldn't stoop so low would she? Not with him, someone she'd never seen as more than... a slave in this house. But the fear in his eyes, the trembling in his voice, the way her own body remembered things she'd thought were dreams it left her too shocked to form coherent words.
How horny had she been to go to such lengths? Even drunk, she'd always prided herself on her self-control.
Was everything with Jeremy and the blackmail finally breaking her so completely that she couldn't think straight? Had she really committed such an act?
"It really happened," she whispered, the realization crushing down on her like a weight that threatened to destroy everything she thought she knew about herself.
Isaac's breath shook, but he leaned forward slightly, his honey voice soft and coaxing. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me," he murmured, the words wrapping around her guilt like a warm blanket. "But it's eating you up, ma'am... and I can see it."
Watching how shaken she was, Isaac was surprised by how well things were going. Thanks to his enhanced intelligence, Victoria would never notice him using his ability on her now. It was the perfect moment to turn this situation around and there was something he wanted to confirm from the book.
Victoria's pulse hammered in her ears, each beat a reminder of the line she'd crossed. After a moment's thought, she found the perfect solution to wrap this up and bury it.
She straightened herself, forcing her voice steady.
"We're going to handle this quietly," she said, her tone measured and deliberate. "And I don't think I have to remind you not a word of this gets out."
He tilted his head toward her. "I understand, ma'am." As he shifted to balance himself, the sheet he'd used for cover slipped away. The movement revealed his full, naked form, but her gaze snagged on one point in particular: his cock, resting thick and heavy against his thigh.
Victoria's breath hitched. Holy fucking Christ. How had she not seen this monster when she entered? And how was it even that big? Nine inches? Ten, maybe? It wasn't even hard yet. The sight was so obscene it sent a hot flush crawling up her neck.
She swallowed hard, forcing her eyes away.
"Ma'am? Are you alright? Your face looks... flushed."
She snapped out of her daze, his voice pulling her back. "Yes, I'm... I'm fine," she replied, her voice a little too tight. "It's just... rough, not being able to remember what happened between us."
Even as she spoke, her eyes betrayed her, flicking back down to stare. She couldn't comprehend how she was still in one piece. If her fragmented memories were true, if they had actually done it, that monster should have torn her in half. She couldn't imagine taking all of it.
Worse, a familiar heat was blooming low in her belly, a direct result of these terrifying, exhilarating thoughts. She could feel her nipples pebble, brushing against the silk of her nightgown with every shallow breath.
The silk felt like sandpaper against her sensitive skin. She had to get out. She had to think. But somehow her feet were rooted to the floor, her body a traitor, captivated by the sight of him. Her mind screamed danger, yet she could feel the heat building even more just staring at it.
Isaac took a step forward, his movements fluid and silent, like a predator closing in on cornered prey. Yet his expression held no aggression, only a deep, unnerving curiosity. "Ma'am," he said, his voice a low hum that vibrated through the floorboards and up her spine. "You're trembling."
He paused, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting hers again, a flicker of something wounded in his eyes. "You know," he began, his voice softer now, laced with manufactured vulnerability, the honey whisper still in effect, "it's just... I feel a little heartbroken, hearing you say you can't remember what happened between us."
Victoria finally tore her gaze upward from his cock, her voice shaky with a slight whisper.
"What... what are you talking about?"
He took another slow step, closing the distance until the heat radiating from his skin was a palpable force against her body. "I know this is going to sound strange," he murmured, his eyes locking onto hers, the honey in his voice thickening, coating her senses in a warm, sedative fog. "But I enjoyed what happened between us. And I won't deny that fact." He paused, letting a flicker of manufactured vulnerability show in his eyes. "Especially since... it was my first time."
The words hung in the air, so absurd they were almost insulting. Her brow furrowed, a spark of her old anger returning. "Then why did you act the way you did when you woke up? Like you were completely terrified."
Isaac's gaze fell, his shoulders slumping in a perfect imitation of shame. When he looked back up, the raw pain in his eyes was a masterpiece of manipulation. "Because," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "I didn't want to experience the feeling of getting raped again. If I was going to have something with you, I wanted it to be with you conscious, where we could both enjoy it."
Victoria stared at him, her mind reeling. The sheer audacity of it, the convoluted, backwards logic, was staggering. "Are you stupid?" she finally managed, her voice sharp with disbelief.
"Do you have any idea what you're saying?"
Isaac knew he was pushing his luck, walking a razor's edge. Any sane man would never attempt such a gamble. But he wasn't relying on sanity; he was relying on the Serpent Gift. It was his one hope, the card hidden up his sleeve. He could still recall the description, seared into his mind: The seed-mark of the Bearer is set. If the Bearer's essence enters any being, memory of the Bearer rises first when desire awakens; if they have lain with the Bearer before, longing multiplies, the itch abiding.
He had already came inside her once. It was the only explanation for the war he saw waging behind her eyes, the outrage of her mind fighting the current of her own body. The fact that she was still here, that her gaze kept flicking down to his cock, that she hadn't stormed out, it was all the confirmation he needed. His plan, as reckless as it was, was working. He had acted oblivious to her stares, but he had counted on every single one.
He took a final, deliberate step, eliminating the space between them. He didn't touch her, but he leaned in, his voice dropping back into that hypnotic, honeyed register. "I am well aware of what I said, and it doesn't change the fact that you want the same thing I do."
Victoria stared at him, wondering what was giving him so much boldness. She could just slap his face and storm out, but she remained rooted to her spot, unable to move. She could already feel his breath against her skin.
Why? Why couldn't she just push him away? Why wasn't she disgusted by everything he said?
Did that mean she wanted this too? Did that mean she desired for something to happen between them?