by Shandi Boyes
With that in mind, I cup his cheeks, ignoring the tremor encroaching my hands, then nod.
Relief floods his eyes. “Say it.”
“Yes.” My voice trembles with excited nerves. “I’ll marry you.”
In the blink of an eye, his mouth covers mine. The saltiness of my tears I didn’t know were falling flavors our knee-wobbling kiss. When I feel his thickened rod bracing against the seam of my sweatpants, the wetness in my eyes dry as the fire of passion warms my veins.
I slide my hand underneath his shirt, wanting to feel the smoothness of his skin under my hand. A grin tugs on my lips when his cock twitches from my meekest touch, then my nipples bud when his hands follow my expedition. After slipping it under my shirt, he tugs me closer, deepening our kiss.
He stands from the sofa, taking me with him, not once relinquishing my mouth from his. He walks us down the long hallway that is once again lined with expensive, one-of-a-kind paintings. I inwardly cheer, my effort to seduce Isaac into breaking doctor’s orders finally worked.
My cheers subside when he walks us into the bathroom instead of the master suite as I was anticipating. When he places me down on the expansive marble vanity, memories of the previous times we’ve bathed together rush to the forefront of my mind.
My first bareback ride was in that tub.
Isaac’s smooth, long strides have him reaching the tub quicker than a heartbeat. He turns on the faucet full blast, adding small amounts of bath products before spinning around to face me. Just like the first night we bathed together, his gaze is not only filled with lust but something else as well. The only difference between that evening and tonight is that I now recognize the additional spark in his eyes. It’s love, and it’s focused on me.
As the room fills with steam, Isaac unbuttons the remaining buttons on his crisp blue business shirt before shrugging it off his shoulders. My pussy tingles when he lowers the zipper in his trousers so his erect, heavily-veined cock can spring free from his black boxer briefs. I stare unashamedly at the glorious cock that’s sent me to the brink more times than I can count. Now, after agreeing to become his wife, I’m the only one who gets to experience its earth-shattering capabilities ever again.
I lick my lips to relieve their dryness before raising my eyes to Isaac’s. My body is aching, shamelessly begging to be consumed by him. When he paces toward me, a wicked grin curls his plump lips. He removes my shirt, deliberately taking his time like a child on Christmas morning who doesn’t want to unwrap his gifts too quickly, so the surprise isn’t over before it needs to be.
His pupils dilate when he unclasps my bra, guides it off my shoulders, then drops it to the floor. I raise my bottom to assist him in removing my gray sweatpants and panties down my quaking thighs. Once every article of my clothing is removed, he takes a step back, so his heavy-lidded gaze can rake in my body. I fight hard not to squirm on the spot, trying to pretend I have some sort of control when I'm around him. When his eyes lift from my nipples to my face, I know he's calling my deceit.
He holds me in close as he moseys to the bathtub. The water is nice and warm, but it has nothing on the blood scorching my veins from his closeness. When he slides us into the tub, he positions me so my back braces against his torso.
Wanting to be closer, I spin around to face him. Water splashes over the rim of the overfilled tub from my hasty movements. “Isabelle,” he growls in warning when I slide my slick skin along his until my throbbing pussy is hovering just above his erect cock.
“What?” I say, faking innocence. “I’m just making sure you’re clean.”
“By using your body to clean me?”
I smile while nodding.
“That’s what they invented shower puffs for.”
He snags one off the tiled rim and throws it at me. I dip it into the water before drifting it over his torso, nurturing him as he usually does me. His eyes close when I increase the pressure to knead away the tension he’s carrying on his broad shoulders.
His body is pure perfection—smooth, tanned, muscled, but not those overly imposing ones that are too veiny and horrid—but perfect in all the right places. Add his mouth-salivating body to his strikingly handsome good looks, and you have a lethal combination that drives lust-hungry women crazy.
It’s the parts of him I’m still unraveling that are more appealing to me—the way he takes care of his family and friends, how he knows when I need him to assert sternness to keep me balanced, and how he cocoons me with safety, making me feel both cherished and protected at the same time. All those things show he's just as handsome on the inside as he is on the outside.
His eyes pop open when my nurturing technique veers to the lower half of his body. I whimper when he seizes my wrist just as my hand wraps around his throbbing cock. “Please,” I shamefully beg, staring into his eyes. “Pretty, pretty please.”
“Isabelle.” His growl displays his usually impenetrable composure is faltering. “Jae said no exhaustive activities.”
“There are activities we can do that don’t require excessive levels of movement.”
My pulse quickens when he smirks a succulent smile. “But that isn’t how my girl likes it. She likes to be fucked, not handled like a delicate flower.”
I grimace and flop onto his chest. After being sexually teased for hours, my orgasm is teetering dangerously on edge. The smallest touch from him will have me free-falling into orgasmic bliss.
“You’re being mean,” I mutter as my inner vixen stomps her feet like a child.
Isaac grips my chin and hoists my face up high. “Believe me, if I were able to touch you and know I could stop before things got excessive, my head would be buried between your legs, eating your greedy pussy for dessert.”
Oh god.
Chapter 12
Isaac
Isabelle groans against my sweat-slicked chest. It’s not a moan of sexual pleasure but the cry of frustration. She isn’t the only one frustrated. My cock is aching to be buried into her tight, wet pussy, but I'd be devastated if I harmed her in the process. The guilt I feel knowing I caused her concussion is eating me alive, so I refuse to risk hurting her further.
The Isabelle who emerges in the bedroom is more adventurous than the regular Isabelle most people get to experience, which means she taunts until my urge to dominate overwhelms me. Normally, I wouldn’t hesitate to fulfill her every fantasy, but for now, until all symptoms of her concussion are gone, our hot and heavy make-out sessions will revert to a pre-college level.
Suddenly, Isabelle’s head shoots off my chest. Her eyes squint as she's overwhelmed by dizziness, exposing why I'm endeavoring to stick with Jae’s recommendation. I arch my brow when she moves to sit at the opposite end of the tub. Her big chocolate eyes are weighed down by tired eyelids, but they’re still full of lust.
“Remember our phone call?” Her voice is a husky purr that has my cock stiffening. “That didn’t cause any excessive movements.”
Her pants of breath increase as her shaky hands slither up the smooth planes of her stomach. She cups her generous breasts and kneads them together. My cock jumps when she pinches her nipples between her thumb and index finger. The real-life visual of her pleasing herself is ten times better than the one I imagined that night.
“I love your tits,” I inform her when she pays dedicated attention to her pert pink nipples. “I'm going to fuck them, then smear my cum all over them, marking you with my scent. I’ll make sure every man knows you're taken, not just from having my ring on your finger, but my scent on your body as well.”
I’ll admit it. I freaked when I asked her to marry me, not because I didn’t want to ask her, but because I was undertaking the biggest negotiation of my life. Hours of acquisitions and prerequisites were a walk in the park compared to waiting for her to respond.
I had a whole speech planned to refute her statement that it was too soon, so I was astounded when she merely glanced into my eyes and said, “Yes.”
Not one ass
et I’ve acquired, not how many millions I have in my bank account, or even how many collectible cars I’ve bought over the years compared to what I felt the moment that word seeped from her lips. Just like my feelings for Isabelle, the sensation was phenomenal and unexplainable.
My attention diverts back to reality when a throaty purr tumbles from Isabelle’s lips. My balls clench when she dips one of her hands below the surface of the water. A growl emits from my throat when the water impedes my vision of her beautiful pussy. I scoot down the tub and grip her glorious ass in my hands before tilting her hips higher, so her pussy is no longer submerged underwater.
She digs the pads of her feet into my thighs, arches her back, then plunges two fingers inside her glistening mound. A carnal growl rips from my throat, the visual stimulating. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
Isabelle maintains a steady pace, finger-fucking herself with one hand while the other teases and caresses her perfect tits. Over time, the slickness coating her fingers grows as her race to climax intensifies.
“Please, Isaac,” she begs breathlessly, her eyes fluttering open to stare at me. “I can’t do this without you.”
My chest puffs high, smug her body has already become so dependent on me she can’t bring herself to climax without needing me to guide her over the final hurdle.
“What do you need, baby?”
“You,” she whimpers between pants, “Anywhere.”
My first thoughts go to tasting her deliciously fragrant pussy, but I know once I taste her, I won’t stop. Instead, I secure a firm hold on her hips with one hand before lifting the other to her throbbing clit.
“Eyes, Isabelle.”
She secures a tight grip on the tub, making her knuckles go white before her heavy-lidded eyes meet mine. All it takes is one swipe of my thumb over her clit to have her free-falling into ecstasy. Her toes dig into my thighs, her body quivers, and the most seductive fucking noise in the world bounces off the bathroom walls.
I’ve changed my mind. The sight of Isabelle amid of an orgasm is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Once she stops juddering, and her body sinks back into the water, I gather her into my arms and stand from the tub. When I place her on her feet to snag a towel off the heated towel rack, she sways uncontrollably like a leaf blowing in the breeze.
“Did you hurt yourself?” My eyes dance between hers that are a little hazy. “Are you dizzy? Do you have a headache?”
“I’m okay.”
I arch my brow, calling out the deceit her eyes are reflecting.
“My head is a little achy.”
I scoop her into my arms and hold her into my chest, all possessive and guarded. After placing her on her side of the bed, I stride to the living room to collect the pain medication Jae prescribed. She said if the sharp headaches that have been plaguing Isabelle since her concussion don’t settle, she should take these tablets. They’ll make her groggy, but considering it’s nearly nine o’clock, that won’t affect her too much. They may even help lessen the chance of her having a nightmare.
After gathering a bottle of water from the fridge, I pace back to my bedroom. A smile curves on my mouth when I discover Isabelle lying on her side, snuggled into my pillow, fast asleep. I set the water and tablets on her bedside table before moving to the drawers at the side of the room. As much as sleeping next to a naked Isabelle sounds riveting, I won’t get a wink of sleep. I’m already struggling to restrain myself from touching her as it is, let alone sleeping next to her enticingly bare body all night.
I slip a short sleeve t-shirt over Isabelle’s head before pulling her damp hair out of the collar, then I slip into a pair of cotton pajama pants. I walk to the door with the plan of finalizing some acquisitions I’ve been working on, but my plans alter when a faint whimper scuttles out of Isabelle’s parted lips. Her face contorts with pain as her knees curl upward.
I pull back the comforter and glide into my side of the bed before gathering her in my arms. The lines indenting her forehead ease when she snuggles into my chest. Within minutes, her breathing returns to a regular pattern, and the harshness hampering her face softens.
My gaze lifts to the twinkling lights of Ravenshoe shining through the arched window in my room. My residence was built around that view. I wanted to see the world I planned to rule from the moment I woke up. It’s what urged me to fight harder to achieve the goals I set for myself.
Now, none of it matters.
The accomplishment I felt when I amassed my wealth doesn’t compare to what I feel when I have Isabelle in my arms.
I don’t know how many hours pass before Isabelle groggily lifts her head off my chest. Her eyes are cloudy, and her cheek is crinkled from where she was resting on my shirtless torso.
“Hey.” Her warm breath flutters my lips. “Did I fall asleep?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, only for a quick nap.”
She elbows me in the ribs before scooting up the bed, mimicking my position with her back braced on the headboard. “It’s a beautiful view.”
“It is.” But not as beautiful as you.
After admiring the view for a few more minutes, Isabelle’s eyes drift to me. An adorable smile stretches across her face, and a gleam is brightening her eyes. “If I recall correctly, I’m owed three questions in our game of twenty questions.”
My brow arches. “And how do you figure that?”
“Did you hurt yourself? Are you dizzy? And do you have a headache?” She ticks off the three questions on her fingers. “You asked three questions, which means I get to ask three questions.”
I shake my head before gesturing for her to go ahead. Nothing she could ask me would shock me more than she was when I asked her to marry me.
She swallows before her big brown eyes lift to mine. “Why did Ophelia watch the fight between you and her brother?”
Except that one.
I scrub at the scruff on my jaw while sucking in a big breath. I grew my beard with the intent of discovering if it added sexual stimulation for Isabelle and if I could smell her scent for hours later, but ever since I grew it, I haven’t tasted her against my mouth. I guess, like everything in life, sometimes the best-laid plans don’t always pan out the way you expect.
“Ophelia didn’t know I was fighting in the underground fight ring until the night I fought CJ.” I stare at nothing in particular. “It wasn’t until I arrived at the warehouse did she discover what I really did for a living.”
I turn to face Isabelle. Her chin is resting on her knees, peering up at me, waiting patiently for me to continue. Her face is void of the judgment I expect people to have whenever I imagine sharing my story.
“I was in the locker room warming up for the fight when she begged me not to do it. She said if I fought, I wouldn’t be the man she fell in love with.” I stop talking as the memories of that night filter through my brain. Even though it was six years ago, the images are still crystal clear in my mind. “That was the first time Ophelia told me she loved me.” I lift my gaze to Isabelle. “It was also the first time I said it back.”
Tears well in her eyes, but she smiles, encouraging me to continue.
“I adhered to her pleas, but only when we were leaving, and when we were stopped by Col, I discovered I wasn’t the only one harboring secrets. I didn’t know Ophelia was Col’s daughter until that night.” I drag my index finger down the crinkle in her nose. “But just like you, it wouldn’t have made any difference who her father was. You don’t choose who your family is.”
A smile tugs her lips higher as she nods.
“I either had to fight Col’s best fighter or give up Ophelia. I chose to fight. I only found out it was Ophelia’s brother once we walked between the bleachers.” I peer back out at the twinkling lights of Ravenshoe. “Just as I entered the ring, Ophelia dropped another bombshell.” I swallow harshly, my gaze facing forward. “Her period was over a week late. Suddenly, the stomach flu she’d been suffering the previous
two weeks made sense. I think she thought her confession would have changed my mind about fighting. It did the opposite. It made me more determined to ensure she and my baby weren’t trapped in Col’s ruthless clutch any longer than they already had been.”
I suck in a deep breath that expands my chest. “I just never fathomed the last image I'd have of her was her tear-drenched face begging me to stop. If I’d known, I would have put more thought into my decisions that night.”
Chapter 13
Isabelle
My heart shatters into a million pieces from the devastation on Isaac’s face. When I asked my question, I truly didn’t know if he’d answer it. He hates talking about his past and anything associated with Ophelia, but I was inspired to push him to see if he’d open up to me. Even though his confession hurt to hear, it settled a lot of my confusion, and certain quirks he has now make sense. Like why he can’t stand seeing me cry, why he doesn’t tell me he loves me by using words, and why he guards his heart so fiercely.
Isaac stiffens when I crawl onto his lap, but I continue my pursuit. I cradle his hips with my knees and burrow my nose into the crook of his neck. Inhaling deeply, I fight the sob attempting to escape my quivering lips. Now is not the time for my tears to fall.
While pressing my lips to the throbbing vein in his neck, I tighten my arms around his shoulders. I mold my body as close to his as possible, making us become one. His heart pounds beneath my heaving chest, which is struggling to contain my emotions. As the first tear leaks from my eye, Isaac pulls me in close till not one ounce of air exists between us.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Don’t apologize, Isabelle. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
