by Maisey Yates
The shocking, tearing sensation made her cry out in pain.
Isaiah’s eyes clashed with hers.
“What the hell?”
Five
Isaiah was trying to form words, but he was completely overtaken by the feel of her around his body. She was so tight. So wet. And he couldn’t do anything but press his hips forward and sink even deeper into her in spite of the fact that she had cried out with obvious pain only a second before.
He should stop. But she was kissing him again. She was holding him against her as she moved her hips in invitation. As her movements physically begged him to stay with her.
Poppy was a virgin.
He should stop.
He couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t remember when that had ever happened to him before. He didn’t know if it ever had. He was all about control. It was necessary for a man like him. He had to override his emotions, his needs.
Right now.
But she was holding him so tight. She felt...so good. He had only intended to give her a kiss before he left. And he had intended to go. But he’d been caught up...in her. Not in triumph over the fact that he had convinced her to marry him.
No, he had been caught up in her.
In the wonder of kissing her. Uncovering her. Exploring her in a way he had never imagined he might.
But he’d had no idea—none at all—that she was this inexperienced.
Poppy was brash. She gave as good as she got. She didn’t shy away from anything. And she hadn’t shied away from this either.
She still wasn’t.
Her hands traveled down to cup his ass, and she tugged at him, as if urging him on.
“Isaiah,” she whispered. “Isaiah, please.”
And he had no choice but to oblige.
He moved inside her, slowly at first, torturing them both, and trying to make things more comfortable for her.
He had no idea how he was supposed to have sex with a damned virgin. He never had before.
He had a type. And Poppy was against that type in every single way.
But it seemed to be working just fine for him now.
She pressed her fingertips to his cheek, then pulled him down toward her mouth. She kissed him. Slow and sweet, and he forgot to have control.
He would apologize later. For going too fast. Too hard. But she kept making these sounds. Like she wanted it. Like she liked it. She wrapped her legs around his hips and urged him on, like she needed it. And he couldn’t slow down. Couldn’t stop. Couldn’t make it better, even if he should.
He should make her come at least three more times before he took his own pleasure, but he didn’t have the willpower. Not at all.
His pleasure overtook him, squeezing down on his windpipe, feeling like jaws to his throat, and he couldn’t pull back. Not now. When his orgasm overtook him, all he could hear was the roar of his own blood in his ears, the pounding of his heartbeat. And then Poppy arched beneath him, her nails in his shoulders probably near to drawing blood as she let out a deep, intense cry, her internal muscles flexing around him.
He jerked forward, spilling inside her before he withdrew and rolled over onto his back. He was breathing hard, unable to speak. Unable to think.
“Poppy...”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, crawling beneath a blanket beside him, covering herself up. She suddenly looked very small, and he was forced to sit there and do the math on their age difference. It wasn’t that big. Well, eight years. But he had never thought about what that might mean.
Of course, he had never known her to have a serious relationship. But then, he had only had the one, and he had certainly been having sex.
“We should talk about it.”
“Why?” Her eyes were large and full of an emotion he couldn’t grab hold of. But it echoed in him, and it felt a lot like pain. “There’s really nothing to talk about. You know that my... My childhood was terrible. And I don’t see why we have to go over all the different issues that might’ve given me.”
“So you’ve been avoiding this.”
It suddenly made sense why she had been so fixated on the sex aspect of his proposal. He’d been with a lot of women. So he had taken for granted that sex would be sex.
Of course, he had been wrong. He looked down at her, all vulnerable and curled into a ball. He kissed her forehead.
It hadn’t just been sex. And of course poor Poppy had no reference at all for what sex would be like anyway.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be sorry. But I... I need to be alone.”
That didn’t sit well with him. The idea of leaving her like this.
“Please,” she said.
He had no idea how to handle a woman in this state. Didn’t know how to...
He usually wasn’t frustrated by his difficulty connecting with people. He had a life that suited him. Family and friends who understood him. Who he knew well enough to understand.
Usually, he understood Poppy. But this was uncharted territory for the two of them, and he was at a loss for the right thing to do.
“If you really need that.”
She nodded. “I do.”
He got up, slowly gathering his clothes and walking out of the bedroom. He paused in her living room, holding those clothes in his hands. Then he dropped them. He lay down on her couch, which he was far too tall for, and pulled a blanket over himself.
There. She could be alone. In her room. And tomorrow they would talk. And put together details for their upcoming wedding.
He closed his eyes, and he tried not to think about what it had felt like to slide inside her.
But that was all he thought about.
Over and over again, until he finally fell asleep.
* * *
Poppy’s eyes opened wide at three in the morning. She padded out into the hall, feeling disoriented. She was naked. Because she’d had sex with Isaiah last night.
And then she had sent him away.
Because... She didn’t know why. She hated herself? She hated him? And everything good that could possibly happen to her?
She’d panicked. That was the only real explanation for her reaction.
She had felt stripped and vulnerable. She had wanted—needed—time to get a hold of herself.
Though, considering how she felt this morning, there probably wasn’t enough time in the entire world for her to collect herself.
She had asked him to leave. And he’d left.
Of course he had.
She cared for that man with a passion, but he was not sensitive. Not in the least. Not even a little bit.
You asked him to go. What do you want from him?
It was silly to want anything but exactly what she had asked for. She knew it.
She padded out toward the living room. She needed something. A mindless TV show. A stiff drink. But she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep.
When she walked into the living room, her heart jumped into her throat. Because there was a man-shaped something lying on her couch.
Well, it wasn’t just man-shaped. It was a man.
Isaiah. Who had never left.
Who was defying her expectations again.
He’d been covered by a blanket, she was pretty sure, considering the fact that there was a blanket on the floor bunched up next to him. But he was still naked, sprawled out on her couch and now uncovered. He was...
Even in the dim light she could see just how incredible he was. Long limbs, strong muscles. So hard. Like he was carved from granite.
He was in many ways a mystery to her, even though she knew him as well as she knew anyone. If not better.
He was brilliant with numbers. His investments, his money management, was a huge part of what made Gray
Bear Construction a success. He wasn’t charismatic Joshua with an easy grin, good with PR and an expert way with people. He wasn’t the fresh-faced wunderkind like Faith, taking the architecture world by storm with designs that outstripped her age and experience. Faith was a rare and unique talent. And Jonathan Bear was the hardest worker she had ever met.
And yet, Isaiah’s work was what kept the company moving. He was the reason they stayed solvent. The reason that everything he had ever been involved with had been a success in one way or another.
But he was no pale, soft, indoor man. No. He was rugged. He loved spending time outdoors. Seemed to thrive on it. The moment work was through, Isaiah was out on his ranch. It amazed her that he had ever managed to live in Seattle. Though, even then, he had been hiking on the weekends, mountain biking and staying in cabins outside the city whenever he got the chance.
She supposed in many ways that was consistent enough. The one thing he didn’t seem to have a perfect handle on was people. Otherwise, he was a genius.
But he had stayed with her.
In spite of the fact that she had asked him not to. She wasn’t sure if that was an incredible amount of intuition on his part or if it was simply him being a stubborn ass.
“Are you just going to stand there staring at me?”
She jumped. “I didn’t know you were awake.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You knew I was looking at you,” she said, shrinking in on herself slightly, wishing she had something to cover up her body.
Isaiah, for his part, looked completely unconcerned. He lifted his arms and clasped his hands, putting them behind his head. “Are you ready to talk?”
“I thought it was the woman who was supposed to be all needy and wanting to talk.”
“Traditionally. Maybe. But this isn’t normal for me. And I’m damn sure this isn’t normal for you. You know, on account of the fact that you’ve never done this before.”
“I said I didn’t want to talk about my hymenal status.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t say anything. The silence between them seemed to balloon, expand, becoming very, very uncomfortable.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” she said. “I mean, in that I wasn’t waiting for anything in particular. I was always waiting for somebody to care about me. Always. But then, when I left home... When I got my job with you...” She artfully left out any mention of Rosalind. “That was when I finally felt like I fit. And there just wasn’t room for anything else. I didn’t want there to be. I didn’t need there to be.”
“But now, with me, you suddenly changed your mind?”
She shifted, covering herself with her hand as she clenched her thighs more tightly together. “It’s not that I changed my mind. I didn’t have a specific No Sex Rule. I just hadn’t met a man I trust, and I trust you and...and I got carried away.”
“And that’s never happened to you before,” he said, keeping his tone measured and even. The way he handled people when he was irritated but trying not to show it. She knew him well enough to be familiar with that reaction.
“No,” she admitted. Because there was no point in not telling him.
“You wanted this,” he said, pushing into a sitting position. “You wanted it, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I don’t know how you could doubt that.”
“Because you’ve never wanted to do this before. And then suddenly... You did. Poppy, I knew I was coercing you into marriage, but I didn’t want to coerce you into bed.”
“You didn’t. We’re engaged now anyway and... It was always going to be you,” she blurted out and then quickly tried to backtrack. “Maybe it was never going to happen for me if I didn’t trust and know the person. But I’ve never had an easy time with trusting. With you, it just kind of...happened.”
“Sex?”
“Trust.”
“Come here.”
“There?”
He reached out and took hold of her wrist, and then he tugged her forward, bringing her down onto his lap in an elegant tumble. “Yes.”
He was naked. She was naked. She was sitting on his lap. It should feel ridiculous. Or wrong somehow. This sudden change.
But it didn’t feel strange. It felt good.
He felt good.
“I’m staying,” he said.
“I asked you to leave,” she pointed out.
“You didn’t really want me to.”
“You can’t know that,” she said, feeling stubborn.
It really wasn’t fair. Because she had wanted him to stay.
“Normally, I would say that’s true. But I know you. And I knew that you didn’t really want me to leave you alone alone.”
“You knew that?”
“Yes, even I knew that,” he said.
She lifted her hand, let it hover over his chest. Then he took hold of it and pressed it down, over his heart. She could feel it thundering beneath her palm.
“I guess you can stay,” she whispered.
“I’m too tall for this couch,” he pointed out.
“Well, you can sleep on the floor.”
That was when she found herself being lifted into the air as Isaiah stood. “I think I’ll go back to your bed.”
She swallowed, her heart in her throat, her body trembling. Were they really going to... Again?
“It’s not a very comfortable bed,” she said weakly.
“I think I can handle it.”
Then he kissed her, and he kept on kissing her until they were back in her room.
Whatever desire she had to protect herself, to withdraw from him, was gone completely.
For the first time in her life, she was living her dream in Isaiah’s arms. She wasn’t going to keep herself from it.
Six
Poppy was not happy when he insisted they drive to work together the next day.
But it was foolish for them to go separately. He was already at her house. She was clearly resisting him taking over every aspect of the situation, and he could understand that. But it didn’t mean he could allow for impracticality.
Still, she threw him out of the bedroom, closed herself in and didn’t emerge until it was about five minutes to the time they were meant to be there.
She was back in her uniform. A bright red skirt that fell down to her knees and a crisp, white top that she had tucked in. Matching red earrings and shoes added to the very Poppy look.
“Faith and Joshua are going to have questions,” she said, her tone brittle as she got into the passenger seat of his sports car.
“So what? We’re engaged.”
“We’re going to have to figure out a story. And... We’re going to have to tell your parents. Your parents are not going to be happy if they’re the last to know.”
“We don’t have to tell my siblings we’re engaged.”
“Oh, you just figure we can tell them we knocked boots and leave it at that?” Her tone told him she didn’t actually think that was a good idea.
“Or not tell them anything. It’s not like either of them keep me apprised of their sexual exploits.”
“Well, Joshua is married and Faith is your little sister.”
“And?”
“You are an endless frustration.”
So was she, but he had a feeling if he pointed that out at the moment it wouldn’t end well for him.
This wasn’t a real argument. He’d already won. She was here with him, regardless of her protestations. He’d risk her wrath when it was actually necessary.
“Jonathan will not be in today, if that helps. At least, he’s not planning on it as far as I know.”
She made a noise halfway between a snort and clearing her throat. “The idea of dealing with Jonathan bothers me a lot less than dealing with your siblings.”
“You know. If you could be just slightly less practical sometimes, it would make us mere mortals feel a whole lot better.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything is black-and-white to you. Everything is...easy.” She looked like she actually meant that.
“That isn’t true,” he said. “Things are easy for me when I can line them out. When I can make categories and columns, so whenever I can do that, I do it. Life has variables. Too many. If you turn it into math, there’s one answer. If the answer makes sense, go with that.”
“But life isn’t math,” she said. “There’s not one answer. We could hide this from everyone until we feel like not hiding it. We could have driven separate cars.”
“Hiding it is illogical.”
“Not when you’re a woman who just lost her virginity and you’re a little embarrassed and don’t necessarily want everyone to know.”
“You know,” he said, his tone dry, “you don’t have to walk in and announce that you just lost your virginity.”
“I am aware of that,” she snapped. She tapped her fingernails on the armrest of the passenger door. “You know. You’re a pretty terrible cowboy. What with the sports car.”
“I have a truck for the ranch. But I also have money. So driving multiple cars is my prerogative.”
She made a scoffing sound. And she didn’t speak to him for the rest of the drive over.
For his part, Isaiah wasn’t bothered by her mood. After she had come to speak to him in the early hours of the morning, he had taken her back to bed where he had kept her up for the rest of the night. She had responded to every touch, every kiss.
She might be angry at him, but she wanted him. And that would sustain them when nothing else would.
The whole plan was genius, really.
Now that they’d discovered this attraction between them, she really was the perfect wife for him. He liked her. She would be a fantastic mother. She was an amazing partner, and he already knew it. And then there was this...this heat.
