The Wedding: Enigma, #17

by Shandi Boyes

  Mercifully, Catherine is more clued-in than I give her credit for. It’s pretentious of me to believe her age has her incapable of reading the electricity crackling between Isaac and me. Even a saint wouldn’t be able to ignore it. That’s how red-hot it is.

  “I shall have Roger call before we return tomorrow.” She cups Callie’s ears. “We wouldn’t want her to be irreverently scarred.” Her eyes shift to me. They have a twinkle in them I’ve always admired. “She may never forgive you when she realizes you own a portion of Isaac’s heart she’ll never reach.”

  With that, she assists Callie with placing her backpack on, then suggests she hugs us goodbye. I’m not surprised when Callie races for Isaac first. He is her knight in shining armor, so he deserves the majority of her adoration.

  When she finishes saying goodbye to him, which feels like a good two to three minutes, she moves to my side of the foyer. Just like Catherine, I lower myself to her level. She peers at me with her big brown eyes out in full force for what feels like minutes but is mere seconds before throwing her arms around my neck.

  Tears prick my eyes when she whispers, “I love you, Izzy.” Her words stumble as much as my emotions are teetering, but there’s no doubt they’re the words she spoke.

  Excluding Isaac, Callie has had difficulties expressing herself for the past six months. Dr. Avery assures us it’s normal for a three-year-old who’s been through what she’s endured, and with patience and understanding, she’ll slowly emerge from her cocoon.

  She’s openly expressed her love of Isaac the past two months, but this is the first time I’ve been included in the equation. It affects me more than I care to admit and almost has me wanting to cancel her sleepover with Catherine, so I can pry it out of her a few more times. I would if she weren’t beaming with excitement. She’s looking as forward to tonight’s activities as I am, which frees me to send her off with a clear heart.

  “I love you too, Callie Cat. Very much so.”

  I squeeze her super tight, sucking in the smell of freshly shampooed hair and honey before releasing her from my hold, only partly pouting when she gives Isaac a second hug before skipping out of the foyer on Catherine’s heel.

  Once they’re bundled into an idling town car, I shift on my feet to face Isaac, preparing to tell him how much it sucks that my sister loves him more than me. I’m only playing, but there’s a friskiness impinging the air, making me more daring than normal.

  Before I can announce a single snippet of the fake annoyance scouring my face, my mouth is devoured by the most delicious pair of lips I’ve ever tasted in my life. Isaac kisses me as I’ve never been kissed before—a rousing mix of licks, sucks, and grazes of his teeth. To someone looking in, his kiss could appear savage like he’s aiming more to hurt than pleasure me.

  I know that isn’t the case.

  He’s worshiping me as only he can by taking as much as he’s giving. He’s often said I’m his eternal weakness, so isn’t it only fair he feeds off my strength?

  The note I wrote him on New Year’s Eve when I stupidly believed I didn’t complete him as he does me, a crystal bowl, and a handful of valuable ornaments tumble to the ground when Isaac clears the entryway table with his arm. Once the items are scattered around our feet, he splays my backside where they once sat. With my work uniform comprising of black slacks and a buttoned-up shirt, Isaac will have to work on getting the top half of my body exposed long before he can commence tackling my belt.

  “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to walk away from you today, Isabelle? Your cheeks were inflamed, and your eyes were wide. If that weren’t bad enough, I could smell how aroused you were.” He sucks in deeply like he’s sniffing in the same scent now. “Knowing Ryan could see what I saw, smell what I did…” A growl finalizes his sentence.

  “It has me wondering if this was a good idea. Perhaps I should chain you to my bed, only freeing you when I have an imperative decision to make.” My breaths quicken when the stubble on his chin grazes my neck. “Excluding the day I asked you to become my wife, I’ve never made more sound business deals as I have when you’re a part of the meetings. They, by far, exceed any transactions I’ve ever made.”

  I can’t respond. The removal of my pants has rendered me speechless. He moved so nimbly, I hadn’t realized he had my belt undone, much less my button and fly. Once he has the thin black material huddled around my knees, he commands my eyes to his before tugging off my lace panties. It seems as if he is dragging the tip of his tongue up the seam of my pussy when he lifts my panties to his nose to inhale a large and undignified whiff through his nostrils.

  “You smell so fucking good,” he moans on a growl.

  With his pupils the largest I’ve seen them, he slips the scrap of material into his trousers pocket, then lowers his zipper. “I should be feeding you, Isabelle, but that needs to wait. I’ve been hard since you frisked me. I can’t wait a moment longer.”

  I meow when he frees his cock from his briefs. He’s hard and long, extending well past the swell in my stomach. He shoves his trousers down somewhat aggressively before cupping my thighs, assuring he adds the extra snip of dominance I like in his grip.

  His sexy voice adds to the stickiness between my legs when he says, “Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on. This is going to be hard and fast.”

  After doing as instructed, he coats his crown with the glistening wetness between my legs. I’ve yet to come, but I don’t need to be physically stimulated to be wet. His face alone moistens my panties, much less how desirable he makes me feel. Isaac could have anyone he wants, but for some strange reason, he only wants me.

  Our combined purrs of ecstasy bounce around the large foyer of our home when he enters me in one quick thrust. I call out, the sensation of being full to the brim too all-encompassing not to react. You’d think the more times he takes me, the easier it would be. That isn’t the case. It’s as if he grows thicker every time we fuck.

  Once he has one hand weaved through my hair and the other soothing the sting rocketing through me by nurturing the aching bud between my legs, he slowly withdraws. My pussy sucks at him, forever begging to be filled by him. Its frantic squeezes have him entering me even quicker this time than he did the first. He’d never leave a single qualm of my inner vixen unvoiced. He knows her every want and has no hesitation fulfilling it at all times of the day and night.

  He fucks me almost violently, bringing my screams to an ear-piercing level, and I love every minute of it. I meet his pumps grind for grind, growing wetter with each one we do.

  Even though he’s only one man, he has every inch of me covered. He’s giving my scalp the sting it loves when he claims me, his balls are slapping my ass, his thumb is circling my clit, and my breasts are bouncing so furiously, they clap with every thrust he does.

  Even his mouth-watering ‘V’ muscle adds to the commotion. His thumb is taking care of my clit, but watching how he uses every muscle in his body to bring me to climax is a riveting visual. The hard bumps in his midsection never stop contracting as he drives into me on repeat, screwing me as only he can.

  Our home is airconditioned with the most state-of-the-art equipment, but you wouldn’t know it for how much sweat is gliding over our bodies. We’re fucking like wild animals, the stickiness replicating the mess between my legs. I grow wetter and wetter with every pump he does, the conditions worsening when the lips I fantasize about arrow toward mine.

  They’re the final push I need to get over the line. They spark fireworks in front of my eyes and tighten every muscle in my body. Just as my body starts to quake with a much-needed buzz, Isaac inches back.

  “Eyes, Isabelle.”

  The intensity roaring through my body is almost too much to bear. It’s the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had, and it’s all because the eyes that see through to my soul are on me, taking everything I’m willing to give and then some.

  Isaac pumps into me on repeat without once removing his eyes from mine. It�
��s a gloriously terrifying four minutes that include multiple shouts of his name and many confirmations on how I can’t stand the intensity, and I need him to stop his relentless pounds for just a second.

  He doesn’t adhere to my request, knowing I can withstand more than I’ll ever admit. I understand why. We’ve had everything come between us—kidnappings, mafia kingpins, infidelity claims, yet here we are, stronger than ever.

  Nothing will ever change that. Not even the Almighty himself.

  2

  Isaac

  First deserve, then devour.

  * * *

  My cock twitches when the quickest flash of silver catches my eyes. It’s the cuffs Isabelle had secured around her waist today, the ones that cooled the fury roaring through me when Ryan forced her to pat me down like an everyday criminal. They had me thinking wicked thoughts, thoughts I shouldn’t have been ruminating when being frisked.

  I understand Ryan’s game. He wanted to knock me down a peg or two because I won the game we’ve been playing since we were teens. I stole the girl he was chasing, put a ring on her finger, and assured he and every other man in our town understand Isabelle is untouchable.

  My fiancée is a possessive, jealous woman, but not even her vehement need to fuck me senseless has calmed the beast clawing my stomach every time I think about a man getting close to her. I don’t want them close enough to smell her seductive scent, much less share the air she breathes.

  I thought having my ring on her finger would cure my exasperating habit. Regrettably, it’s flourished the epidemic. Men are stupid. When their lackluster bank balances reveal they’ll never have the means to compete against me, they seek my weaknesses.

  Isabelle is my weakness.

  She exposed me as a mere man instead of the enigma I was known as, but that doesn’t mean my competitors should tread lightly. She strengthens me too. Keeping her and Callie safe are my only aspirations. It comes before anything—even my empire.

  Once the shudders wreaking havoc over every inch of Isabelle have subsided, I withdraw my cock from her pussy. A rumbling moan tears from her throat, annoyed by the loss of contact. I told her this was going to be hard and fast, which means I’d usually bring her to climax before seeking my release.

  Don’t misconstrue. That wouldn’t be the end of our exchange. It’s just a prelude to what is waiting on the other side after I’ve fed and nurtured her as she deserves. However, her cuffs have me switching things up today. I’m hungry. My cravings just don’t have an association with food.

  As I walk Isabelle down the hall we’ve walked many times the past six months, she nibbles on the scruff I’m overdue to shave while undoing the buttons I was too impatient to tackle earlier.

  I rock my hips upward, piercing my cock’s head between the drenched folds of her pussy with every step I take. I need the moans vibrating in her chest to once again circle my cock. I just need that to occur in another location with her bound and at my mercy as I’ve imagined all day.

  I could barely concentrate today with how hard she made me. All the blood in my body was rushing to my lower extremities. Considering Isabelle’s shift didn’t finish until six this evening, I was left without her beneath me for over twelve hours. That’s inconceivable and has me seriously considering my imprudent suggestion for her to work for Ravenshoe PD. I need her here with me, then I can fulfill the ravenous needs of her greedy pussy anytime the urge arises.

  A moan that will forever highlight my dreams fills my ears when I stop just outside of the room housing our sex swing. It took us a few months to occupy this room as intended after Isabelle used it as a confessional to admit Ophelia was alive, but we’ve more than made up for lost time the past three months. Isabelle is already submissive in the bedroom, but it’s brought out most brilliantly when she’s at my complete mercy—bound and restrained.

  While walking to the swing, my lips steal every whimper escaping her mouth. I kiss her with everything I have, tasting the moans she can no longer spill while doubling the wetness between her legs.

  “These lips…” I tug her lower lip with my teeth before tracing the cupid’s bow that’s mesmerized me from day one with my tongue. “… are my lips, Isabelle. These tits…” I cup one of her bouncing globes of flesh so I can roll her nipple between my index finger and thumb. “… are my tits. This greedy pussy that sucks me dry as often as your mouth…”

  I place her in the middle of the swing, exposing her ravenous pussy to my more-than-avid stare, then run my index finger down her swollen lips. “… and its every want and desire, belongs to me. Say it, Isabelle. Say it, then I’ll let you come.”

  “They’re yours, Isaac. Always yours.”

  Her last two words quiver when I swing the seat upward until her pussy crashes into my mouth. She’s not strapped in yet, but I’m too hungry to taste her to wait.

  After sliding my tongue up the scent responsible for many restless nights, I circle my lips around her clit and suck hard. She stills in an instant as she did on my nightclub doors all those months ago before the most beautiful cry of ecstasy rips from her throat.

  I nearly demand her eyes to mine, but I don’t need to. She’s watching me through hooded eyelids, loving that her position on the swing gives her an uninterrupted view of me worshiping her pussy. It has me eating her faster, tasting her as if my seed hadn’t spilled inside of her only this morning.

  Her screams are so loud, I’m tempted to gag her so that she won’t have my employees scared she’s being murdered. Fortunately for all involved, myself included, we’re the only ones here. I gave everyone the night off, mindful this was how our night would pan out. It doesn’t matter how many times I have Isabelle, I’d give anything to experience this over and over again.

  I will never need more than this.

  Once her shakes lessen, I commence removing the contraption responsible for the change in our location from her pants. With Isabelle’s head in a lust cloud, it takes a few moments for her eyes to lock with mine. By then, I have her wrists contained with her Ravenshoe PD assigned cuffs, and her ankles restrained in the gimmick restraints that came with the swing.

  It’s not one of those flimsy swings you see when you google them. This one is bolted to a purposely installed support beam in the roof. It has side anchors to add an extra illusion of safety, and all its parts are made with the highest quality materials, including the leather cuffs currently keeping Isabelle at my mercy.

  After suspending her arms above her head, I take a step back to admire the view. My chest puffs high, proud about the glorious visual in front of me. Her legs are splayed far enough apart, not a thing stands between my erect cock and her pussy, her chest is heaving, and evidence of her arousal is puddled around an orifice only I have filled.

  I told Isabelle I would claim every inch of her. I kept my word. I’m enticed to fuck her there now, but that requires a position out of the sex swing. Her pussy can barely take all of me, so her ass doesn’t stand a chance. Since I’ve just placed her in the swing, I’ll continue with my original plan. We have hours. I have time to claim her ass later.

  My voice is gruff when I command, “Shuffle down as far as you can. I want nothing between us.”

  Isabelle is the most exposed I’ve seen her, but I need more. When I grip the handle on the bottom of the swing to control the rock of her hips, I don’t want even the thinnest slip of leather between us. Not even latex is allowed between us when we fuck, so you can be assured I won’t let the design of a sex swing hinder our lovemaking.

  Her pussy grows wetter when she does as instructed. I don’t know if it’s her new position or the fact I’m rubbing the throbbing crown of my cock through the seam of her pussy to coat it with her arousal. Considering her moans ramp up the more I smother myself in her juices, I’d say it’s the latter.

  “I’ve already taken you tonight, but this angle will make it more intense. If it becomes too much, tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” I lock my eyes with hers. “No safe
word needed. Okay?”

  I wait for her to nod before impaling her in one swift motion. Her back bends against the leather keeping her contained as her ankles fight against the restraints circling them. She’s not the only one struggling. I feel cum biting the crest of my cock. The heat of her pussy is too much for a suppressed response.

  “You feel so good, baby. Wet. Hot. Mine.”

  I grip the handle I mentioned earlier before yanking her closer to me, giving her an extra two inches, so the crest of my cock hits her uterus. She screams, but it isn’t one of those panicked you’re-hurting-me cries. It’s one that divulges she’s loving this as much as me, that she enjoys being filled by my cock as much as he loves filling her.

  The walls of her vagina tighten around me when I say, “When you’re ready for me to move, let me know.”

  “Move. Now. Please. Oh, god, Isaac. I can’t wait a second longer.” She swivels her hips to add to the assurance in her voice. “I love your cock and how full it makes me feel.”

  When I slowly notch my cock back out, a breathless moan ripples between her lips. Because the swing is controlling all of her movements, I only need to do the slightest rock of my hips to sink back into her. My arms will get the workout of their life swinging her off and on my cock tonight, but the visual alone will make up for the pain. I’ve never seen something as arousing as my cock entering and exiting her pussy. It will only be more enticing when my cum coats every inch of her.

  I love seeing my cum dribble out of her when we’re done, but it has nothing on smelling it on her skin for hours later. Just the thought guarantees her pussy won’t be milking my cock of its spawn first. Her washboard abs and jiggling breasts will be wearing it first. I’m not washing away any horrid smells tonight. I’m marking her with my scent, claiming her as mine.

  My house.

  My bed.

  My rules.