“Yep, and he's not the first one. I've taken some out, but the asshat keeps sending them. So killing them's a waste of time, and the one we just saw has been around for about a century now.”
As he explained, Isaac could finally feel the mute beginning to heal, and pushed himself up to settle on his knees. In the process, he wondered at the Brute's timing. Normally, the creature would've remained out of sight, hidden in Limbo waiting to attack without any witnesses.
But they'd been in the middle of a square in a large mortal city.
Granted, it was night with few people around, but he'd cracked open a clock tower, then thrown a car for anyone drawn by the sound to see. Such an act spelled desperation, as if Rothario knew Isaac was helping Chandra's apprentice and didn't want the creature to hold back.
But most importantly, if any mortals had witnessed that fight, The Crucible would take notice—and that could cause a number of complications in the future.
Still, Isaac didn't mention it aloud as he tugged his tattered shirt off to toss away. Instead, he quickly took notice when Edith's gaze became rapt to his body—and she didn't look one bit displeased by what she saw.
The idea that she was so physically attracted to him was satisfying in ways he didn't think possible, even after all the time he'd spent dreaming and yearning. It made him wish he could look into her eyes and learn what she truly wanted between them, even if only in that specific moment.
But she soon snapped out of her stupor and moved behind him to make certain his mute was healing as well as possible, and the notion that she cared about him enough to check affected him even more profoundly. Isaac wasn't used to being shown much genuine concern—the only people who'd ever done so was Ulric and his family.
But they were friends, and he had no idea how to react to it coming from his mate.
Not that he actually could express the way it made him feel, and the oath wasn't the only thing keeping him silent.
He also didn't know how.
There was never any question in Isaac's mind that he'd come to care for a mate deeply, particularly after centuries of having little to hold dear besides his own ruthless survival skills. But actually experiencing the beginnings of such emotion was raw, maddening, and adding the fact that he couldn't even express it if he'd wanted had him pulling away from Edith in irritation.
“Damn it, stop worrying so much. I'm fine.”
As he stood, Edith pushed herself up behind him, inquiring, “What's your problem?”
Turning to face her, he growled, “For starters, I told you to leave when the Brute showed up.”
“Oh sure,” she retorted sharply, “I'll just run away and leave you behind.”
“That was the damned point! I wanted to know if the Brute was still targeting me, and if your exit stopped his attack, I would've known it was you.”
As Edith held his gaze, enlightenment sparked in her green eyes, and her head drooped forward with a low exhalation of breath. “Okay, I'm sorry. But what if I left and he tried to kill you?”
“He's tried to kill me plenty of times, so it wouldn't have mattered.”
“It would to me!” she snapped. “If he'd succeeded, I would've had to live with that! I'd even bet your mute was already burning after you'd kicked that car back at him, wasn't it?”
Isaac didn't want to admit that was true, but he knew how to test the mute's limits, retorting, “Doesn't matter, it's been worse when I've fought him and I've managed.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Knowing you have to fight that asshole alone when you're already in pain? Oh sure, you're a big, badass demon who can handle himself, but damn it, you're not indestructible!”
Isaac would've responded automatically, but the tone of her voice stopped him. He knew she was worried for him, but actually hearing it made his chest ache with a longing to show her affection—and it royally pissed him off.
Turning, he slammed his fist into a box with a growl, sending it into the wall.
“Well gee, I'm so sorry I care,” she muttered.
“That's not it,” he countered, turning to face her, “and you made me promise not to talk about it, remember?”
“It's a mate thing?”
“Yes.”
She sighed. “Then just say what's on your mind.”
Isaac hesitated. “Is that an invite?”
“Yes, it's an—oh!”
Edith gasped when he abruptly pulled her into his arms. But instead of kissing her, he buried his face against the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deep.
“You smell so fucking good.”
“Isaac?” She sounded baffled.
“Just let me hold you, angel,” he groaned, unable to stop himself from tightening his grip.
Isaac couldn't explain it, but having Edith in his arms made him feel powerful and weak at the same time, and knowing she cared meant everything. The bliss it evoked was overwhelming to the point that he nearly couldn't think straight—not that he didn't loosen his hold when she rasped his name and stated her need to breathe.
Lifting his head, he saw an extremely confused look on her face. “Are you sure you're alright?”
Isaac groaned. “Yeah, you're just driving me apeshit.”
She blinked. “How?”
“Just are. Everything about you is so damned perfect.”
At his praise, a blush lit her cheeks, and she shook her head. “I'm not perfect, Isaac.”
“You are to me.” Reaching up, he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb across her soft bottom lip, groaning at the way it billowed. “You're sexy, smart, witty as fuck. I'd keep going, but we'd be here all day.”
Edith bashfully looked down, biting her lip as if to hide a smile. “Seriously, what's with the mush?”
Amused, he tilted her face back up with a finger beneath her chin. “Can't take a compliment?”
“When you're this close, looking at me that way? Not really.”
As she spoke, Isaac slowly leaned in, gazing into the depths of her pale green eyes while whispering, “How am I looking at you?”
Edith hesitated with her answer as if she'd forgotten to breathe, their lips lightly brushing when she finally rasped, “Like … I-I'm desirable.”
“You're more than that,” he growled sincerely, able to see the truth of her desires in her soul by gazing into her eyes—and what he saw rattled him just as she took the initiative and leaned up for a kiss.
Edith wanted him.
It was a tentative desire, one he doubted she was fully aware of, or maybe she'd hidden it out of shyness. But the notion drove Isaac crazy, and he returned her kiss with all the longing he had in him, slanting his mouth over hers as her small, gloved hands cupped his cheeks.
He felt as if he couldn't get close enough, fighting to prevent himself from crushing her when Edith whimpered into his mouth and rubbed her body against his.
The movement had his cock hardening in an instant, lust making it difficult to recall that her curiosities might only extend so far. It was possible that she only wanted to be petted, but even the thought of that much was enough to make him pulse with anticipation.
After all, it didn't matter to him if they petted, fucked, or just made out. As long as he got the chance to give her whatever she craved, he wouldn't complain one damned bit.
From Isaac's gruff praise to his intense looks, Edith knew she was doomed to succumb to her virginal curiosities, starting with a passionate kiss.
Her lips met his, and the approving growl rumbling from the back of his throat sent tingles through her body, rousing her desires and eroding her logic. But thinking straight had been a lost cause from the moment he'd removed his torn shirt.
She couldn't be sure, but Isaac seemed to look even bigger without it. His muscular chest was smooth, his arms toned, and his rigid abdomen sported curves down to the buckle of his pants that she wanted to trace—with her tongue.
Edith could barely tear her gaze away. The mere sight aroused her i
n wicked ways, let alone the feel of his body when he'd pulled her against him, chipping away at her shy reluctance until she simply couldn't get enough.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, the same worries plagued her. Did she only want this because she'd never had it? Would he think her invitation implied more than she'd meant? Edith wanted to figure it out, wanted to make sure she wasn't doing this just because he was there, sexy as hell, and wouldn't deny her.
But like the night they'd kissed in her apartment, she quickly became dizzy, her focus centered solely around Isaac and her feelings in the moment.
So, when the kiss broke, she tried to make sure he understood, rasping, “Isaac, I-I'm not ready to … ”
“I know,” he started, adding on a gruff tone dripping with sensuality, “but you're aching aren't you, angel?”
Her gaze locked on his fiery eyes, becoming lost in them, and she heard herself answering before she could think, “Yes, but I don't know what to—”
Gently, Isaac shushed her with another kiss, and her cheeks blazed red when he slid her long coat off her shoulders to pool around her boots, then murmured, “You don't need to do anything but let me make it better.”
Make it better? She wanted to ask what he meant, but the words stuck in her throat when he lifted her right hand to his lips, tugging her glove off with his teeth finger by finger before kissing their bare tips.
It was such a simple gesture, but so very intimate, leaving Edith dumbfounded as he repeated the process with the other hand.
Once he was done, Isaac claimed her mouth in a dizzying kiss, his lips then trailing across her cheek to her left ear where he taught her a very important lesson.
Her ears were extremely sensitive.
She thought she'd moaned his name, but couldn't be sure, sagging against him while he nibbled the shell with a low, satisfied groan.
The world spun around her as a result, his deep, gruff voice against it amplifying the sensation. “I don't even need to take your clothes off, angel. Just pet you until you're nice and hot, then make you come on my fingers.”
Her pulse pounded as one of his hands brushed over a breast, cupping it, his thumb stroking the protrusion of her nipple straining against the fabric.
Edith bit her lip and buried her face in the crook of his neck, knowing only one thing in that moment.
I need this. Bad.
“Like that?” he asked seductively.
All she could manage was a nod, her doubts melting into shivers across her body, intensifying as his hand glided down her side, then across her hip to the hem of her plaid skirt. There, he drug the backs of his knuckles up her thigh until his fingers found the crotch of her panties.
When he cupped her there, Edith stiffened with a gasp, panting in response to his low, lusty growl.
“Shush,” he murmured, rubbing his thick fingers back and forth over the thin cloth covering her pussy. “I'm just gonna play with it, angel, tease it until you soak my hand.” Grinding his palm over it, he groaned wickedly, “You're so wet. Is it throbbing?”
Somehow, she managed to rasp, “Yes!” then whimpered when his digits sank into her panties—and only vaguely did she realize he'd just teleported them both onto the bed at the other side of the storage unit.
But as he laid her back against the pillows with one arm latched around her back, all she could focus on was his thick fingers probing her panties beneath her skirt.
The first time she'd ever been touched there.
“You're so fucking soft all over, Edith. Can't get enough.”
At that, his index invaded the seam between her legs, rubbing from her slick entrance to her swollen clitoris, and she jerked against him.
“Isaac! Ah!”
“Fuck,” he growled, “it's so much better hearing it out loud.”
She had no idea what he was talking about, and couldn't focus well enough to figure it out, too busy clutching him when he started toying with her sensitive clit to care.
Pinching the nub, he pressed the pad of his index into it, rolling it around in circles. Edith's hips squirmed instinctively, her heart hammering as he sinfully promised, “Can't wait to do this with my tongue, lick your little clit until you're screaming and begging me for a good, stiff fucking.”
She already felt like screaming—and begging. Edith didn't know what type of person she'd be sexually, but always thought dirty talk would be one of her weaknesses, and he was proving her right. Uttering those words against her ear was driving her insane.
Her hands moved in a frenzy to grab any part of him she could reach, including the sizable bulge in his jeans, instinctively rubbing her palm against his concealed shaft. Somehow, she needed to give as much as she was getting, and his reaction was maddening.
Their foreheads met as he let a low, sexy growl of her name. She'd never heard it spoken so breathlessly, adding to her arousal as Isaac groaned, “Do you have any idea how fucking hard that makes me, angel? My cock is throbbing.”
Edith parted her lips in an attempt to answer, but all she could do was cry out when his index pressed against her slick entrance, easily sinking inside to fill her.
“Fuck, you're tight!” he growled, sounding incredibly pleased while grinding his thick digit against her wet walls until her head fell back, legs falling open wide to give him better access.
At the same time, his thumb slowly circled her clitoris, intensifying the already agonizingly sinful pleasure. She nearly screamed, mindlessly grinding her palm into his concealed erection, loving the way Isaac groaned and drove his hips into her greedy hand.
She wanted to open his pants, wanted to stroke his length without any barriers. But she couldn't focus enough to figure out how, writhing as her body began spiraling toward a hard climax.
“I-I'm gonna come!”
“Don't hide,” he demanded, “let me watch you.”
“But I—,” she stopped, suddenly stiffening when the first wave erupted without warning. “Oh fuck! Isaac!”
“That's it, Edith, come hard!”
Her hips bucked against his hand, pleasure shooting through her body harder than any she'd ever experienced, radiating out as Isaac's fingers skillfully stroked and plunged between her legs. She felt like a rag doll caught up in merciless rapids, and somewhere amidst that torrent, she realized Isaac had just gotten off as well, his hips grinding against her thigh with an extremely satisfied grunt.
He didn't stop until she was limp, trembling against him, her response to experiencing such bliss at the hands of another for the first time completely honest. But somewhere in the back of her dazed thoughts, Edith couldn't shake the worry that she'd twisted another truth entirely.
Fourteen
• • •
Isaac was the one with sexual experience, but Edith made him come faster than he thought possible for a man with his pants still on.
Her reactions heightened his pleasure until he thought he'd get off simply watching her, and the way she greedily groped his concealed erection was a wicked tease. But he'd be damned if he stopped just to unbuckle his belt. After all the disappointing dreams denying him the chance to see this woman finding release, Isaac needed to make her come as badly as he needed to breathe.
And Edith was too sexy for words. The tight, milking clench of her slick walls on his index as she desperately cried his name with her orgasm sent him straight over the edge.
The first spurt of his release had him shouting her name, his hips rising against her hand, their bodies writhing together, and it seemed unending. For the simplicity of what they were sharing, the pleasure was intense, making him wonder how good it would be to spend an entire night making love to Edith.
No clothes, no inhibitions. Just skin against skin and their pleasured voices in each others' ears. Life altering. Completely fucking life altering.
Collapsing back against the mattress, he clutched her close, the blissful pleasure of release fading to a dazed sense of euphoria. She was trembling, clutching him ti
ght with heavy exhalations sounding in time with his panted breaths—and Isaac was completely overwhelmed.
For a brief moment as she'd started to come for him, he thought he was about to wake to an empty bed again, yearning to have her close. But it never happened. She was still there. He actually had his mate secure in his arms, and sated by a hard orgasm.
Isaac clutched her even tighter at the thought, wanting to praise her, or just shout from the rightness of it. But he felt nearly incapable of speech, too damned content to break the euphoric haze with words, and reverently kissed her instead, starting with her forehead, cheeks, lips, whatever was within reach, to show her how damned satisfied he was.
Still breathless, Edith eventually whispered, “You're being awfully quiet.”
Languidly, she started drawing a hand up and down his side, and Isaac grabbed it to kiss her palm, too. “Just having a hard time believing this isn't another dream.”
He opened his eyes to spy her yawning before offering a shy smile. “I'm having a hard time believing I … er, got you off.”
Isaac scoffed. “Faster than a teenager with his first porno mag. But why is that so hard to believe?”
She shrugged, her cheeks turning pink as she looked away, suggesting it was a lack of belief in her own sexual prowess that had her uncertain.
Releasing her hand, he tilted her chin up and drug his thumb across her bottom lip, holding her gaze for a silent moment before murmuring, “Tell me how to erase your doubts.”
“What doubts?”
“Your self doubts.”
She hesitated. “Are you looking into my soul?”
“No, why?”
“It just seems strange that you'd want to erase my doubts about myself, and not the ones I have about us.”
Isaac lifted the corner of his mouth in a smirk. “How do you know they're not the same thing?”
Edith glanced down, then shrugged. “I guess I don't. But if you wanna erase my doubts, you just took care of some.”
“How?”
“Because I'm glad you, er … I mean I actually um … wasn't the only person who … damn it,” she cussed, then lifted her head to state much more confidently, “I hope you just came a river because my panties are soaked through.”
The Final Calling Page 13
