The Final Chapter: Enigma, #4

by Shandi Boyes

  And just like that, Isabelle is submissive.

  I stand from my chair, taking her with me. While striding to the master suite, I rock my hips, rubbing my thickened cock against the seam of her black sweatpants. When she nibbles on the cropped beard hiding my jawline, her breath tickles my neck. Having a beard is exactly how I envisioned. Isabelle squirms more than usual, and I can smell her seductive scent for hours after I’ve devoured her.

  When I place Isabelle on her feet, her hand goes straight to the button on my jeans. My cock pulses against my zipper from her eagerness, but I step back. As much as I’d love for her to suck my cock, that won’t force her to tell me what her earlier defiance was about. So for now, it will have to wait.

  Hooking my thumbs into the hem of her sweatpants, I yank them down her shaking thighs. A rough growl seeps from my lips when the scent of her arousal filters in the air. Once her shirt is pulled over her head and discarded along with her bra, I loosen the tie in her hair, growling when her dark locks fall past her shoulders.

  My cock aches when I drink in the beautiful specimen in front of me. Isabelle’s body was created to make men fall to their knees. The heavy swell of her breasts, the smooth and succulent curve of her hips, and her glorious bare mound that tastes as sweet as honey has my cock fighting to break free from my trousers, dying to claim her, mark her. To make her mine.

  Her breathing turns excited when I secure her favorite blue tie from the walk-in closet. “Same rules. If you want me to stop, ask me to stop.”

  Nodding, she laces her fingers together, then holds her hands out in front of her body. Her eyes are bright and eager, her pussy is slicked with wetness. She loves this—forcing my dominance, being controlled—but this time is different. This time, her eyes are evasive and hazed with apprehension. They're the most guarded I’ve ever seen them.

  Let’s see how long it takes to break her defiance this time around.

  Chapter 26

  Isabelle

  “If you want me to stop, Isabelle, say it.”

  My nails bend harshly as I crawl across the sweat-dampened sheets, trying in vain to get away from Isaac and his torturous cock. For the past hour, he’s been relentlessly teasing me, but no matter how many times I try to fire the word ‘stop’ off my tongue, it won’t happen. My body can’t say no to Isaac, even when he's torturing it.

  A moan ripples from my parched throat when he tightens his grip on my hips. My knees dig deeper into the mattress as the pounding of his cock increases. Even irrefutably furious at him, my body relishes every precise thrust. My sex greedily squeezes him, sucking him in deeper, convulsing around every glorious inch.

  “Tell me why you want to go to Tiburon. Why you want us to be separated again?” he asks for the ten-hundredth time since we entered the master suite.

  I give him the same answer I’ve given him the past hour. “I need some time to think.”

  He grunts, not believing me before adding an extra roll of his hips to his unyielding pumps. My eyes roll into the back of my head as he screws me with such wildness, every nerve in my body is overloaded, sparked, and ready to explode.

  When his hand slides between my legs, I inhale a sharp, quick breath. He slides his fingertips over the swollen bud of my clit, coiling my womb into a constrictive hold that has my mind absent of any thoughts but my race to orgasm. Every hair on my body bristles at the same time the pummeling of his cock stops.

  “No! Please!”

  “Tell me why you need time to think.”

  I square my shoulders before shifting my gaze to the other side of the room. Because I refuse to answer his question, he remains perfectly still, ensuring that all signs of my climax dissipate to a small simmer.

  My clit is aching to be relieved of the tension that's been building there the past hour. I'm covered from head to toe in sweat, open and raw, and feeling the most vulnerable I’ve ever felt.

  When Isaac flips me onto my back, I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to look at the man who is making my blood boil with both anger and ecstasy at the same time.

  “Eyes, Isabelle.”

  My eyes pop open when his tongue skims across my sensitive clit, my chase to climax strengthening when they collide with his dark, commanding gaze. Once he has my devotion, he consumes my pussy like a man starved of my taste. He plunges his tongue inside me, fucking me with as much intensity as his cock does. Tightness builds in my aching sex as a tingle zaps down my back. I thrash against the sticky sheets as sparks of lightning shoot through my drenched sex. I’m so close, I can practically taste my orgasm in the air.

  “No.” I repress a cry when he pulls his sinful mouth away from my quivering pussy.

  “Talk to me. Tell me why.”

  “I need time. This is too much. It’s too soon. We’re rushing,” I stumble out, so overwhelmed and overstimulated, my lips are spilling concerns I never want to be voiced.

  A soundless moan tears from my throat when he enters me again, his pace slower and more controlled than earlier. My pussy ripples around his heavily veined shaft, massaging and caressing him, encouraging him to lose his impenetrable control, but he's so defiant and obstinate. His eyes are set and controlled, displaying he could continue with this pace for hours if required. He won’t give up until I give him every detail.

  Until I give him everything.

  “I can’t give you any more than I’ve already given. I’ve given you everything.” My voice is scratchy as I battle to keep my emotions under control. A gnawing pit burrowing a hole in my heart since I left Brandon’s apartment deepens. “I gave up everything for you, and it still won’t be enough. I’ll never be enough.”

  Isaac doesn’t relinquish the tempo of his thrusts as he says, “You'll always be enough, you're enough. You don’t have to give up anything.”

  “I already have. I already gave it up. You stole it away from me.”

  “What did you give up?”

  His thrusts increase, tormenting me to talk more, forcing my lips to express words I don’t want to speak, but now that my emotions have been unlocked, I can’t hold them back.

  “Everything.” Tears slide down my cheeks, adding more dampness to the already wet sheets. “I gave up everything.”

  “Like what, Isabelle? What did you give up?!” He swivels his hips to ensure the wide crest of his cock finds the sweet spot deep inside me. “Tell me what I stole.”

  “Everything,” I sob through a hiccup.

  “Tell me!”

  “My career, my dreams of having a family, nearly my life. I gave it all away, I gave it all away for you, and it still won’t be enough. It will never be enough. All my dreams are gone. They’ve all been taken away.”

  As soon as the words escape my lips, I want to ram them back down my throat.

  When Isaac recoils, physically winded by my harsh words, I shake my head, cowardly trying to deny my cruel statement. “Isaac, I’m sorry—”

  Any further words planning to seep from my mouth are replaced with a long, grunted moan from him grinding his thumb against my throbbing clit. At the same time, he rocks his hips, hitting the sensitive spot inside me that only he can find.

  From the long build-up, my orgasm completely shreds through me, leaving nothing behind. My body tremors, and his name comes hoarsely out of my gaped mouth. It’s a long, fierce climax that leaves me exhausted and utterly breathless.

  My body is so lax and unresponsive, it takes me a few moments to realize Isaac has stopped thrusting his hips. My heart clenches when I catch sight of the devastation in his eyes, then a whimper scuttles from my lips when he withdraws his still rock-hard cock and climbs off the bed.

  When he stalks out of the room, I flop back onto the mattress and throw my arm over my face. The guilt I’m carrying on my chest makes it hard for me to secure a breath. Tears trickle down my cheeks unchecked as I’m overwhelmed with remorse. I never meant to say those words. I was frustrated and hurt, but instead of telling him why, I lashed out.

&n
bsp; Two minutes later, through quiet sobs, I hear tires shrieking in the distance. I scurry off the bed and race to the arched window. My footing is shaky since my legs are still quaking from my mind-blowing orgasm.

  The red taillights of Isaac’s Bugatti shine through the black night sky a mere second before the vibration of its motor booms through my chest as he impatiently waits for the steel security gate to open. The instant it does, his car skids out of the driveway, leaving a dark cluster of smoke in its wake. His speed is so furious, he becomes nothing but a speckle in the distance within seconds.

  Through trembling thighs, I dig my sleek black cell phone out of my satchel, then hit the speed dial for Isaac’s cell. The death grip on my heart increases when my call goes unanswered. Isaac always has his phone on him—he never goes anywhere without it. That means he's purposely ignoring my calls.

  I leave a message on his voicemail, pleading for forgiveness. I tell him that I love him and that I didn’t mean any of the words I said.

  When another thirty minutes pass without a return call, I crawl into bed. New tears prick my already tear-drenched eyes when I smell his captivating scent in the sheets. I swaddle myself in them, trying in vain to pretend I didn’t just ruin everything.

  That I didn’t just break us.

  My eyes blink, unable to register why blinding rays are streaming through the window. It’s only when my gaze shifts to my phone I’m clutching do I realize I must have fallen asleep. I’m lying in Isaac’s king-size bed with the bedsheets wrapped around my naked body. Isaac hasn’t returned all night. I don’t need to open my eyes to know that. A man with his aura is felt more than he's seen.

  Eager to fix my mistakes, I scamper off the bed, then rush into the walk-in closet to get dressed, my toes gripping the plush carpet. Once dressed in low-riding jeans and a designer long-sleeve shirt, I throw my hair into a high ponytail, then saunter out of the room. I don’t bother checking my reflection in the mirror. I can tell how horrid I look without needing to witness it.

  The pain in my chest increases with every step I take down the long hallway. I can hear Isaac’s deep, stern voice roaring down the hall he carried me down many times, but I’m also panicked, hating that he came home but didn’t come to me.

  My hand trembles when I imprudently swing open his office door. He's standing behind his desk facing the arched window. He's dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit and polished dress shoes. He continues with his conversation on his cell like he hasn’t detected my presence, but I know he’s noticed me as the instant I opened the door, he took in a quick breath.

  “Friday night will be fine,” he says into his phone, stepping closer to the window, placing more distance between us. “I don’t need time to prepare, Henry. That’s fine. It will. I’ll have Cormack contact you with the details of the foundation later today.”

  He disconnects the call and places his cell phone into his trouser pocket. Keeping both hands in his pockets, he pivots around to face me. My pulse races when my eyes roam over his face. His neatly trimmed beard is gone, exchanged for a clean-shaven face that doesn’t have a chance in hell of hiding the furious tick of his jaw.

  “Isaac, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  His livid glare stops any further words seeping from my lips. His eyes thin into tiny slits before they flick to the corner of the room. Following his gaze, I'm shocked to see Hugo standing firm. He's wearing his standard work attire of a black suit with a white business shirt underneath. Unlike the last time I saw him, his shoulder is no longer held in place with a sling. His face is neutral, absent of its normal cheekiness, but it’s the anxiousness plaguing his eyes that causes my greatest concern.

  “Hey, Hugo,” I greet him, my voice cracking since my emotions are so rattled.

  “Isabelle.”

  His lips curl in an uneasy smile before his gaze returns to Isaac. His composure exposes that he isn’t here in the capacity of a friend. He's here on business. I can barely breathe when Isaac moves to stand behind his desk, ensuring that there's something between us, keeping us apart.

  When he reaches his destination, he glances down at papers on his desk instead of me. “A chartered plane has been arranged to take you back to Tiburon this morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  I pad closer to him, wanting to thank him for the leeway in his usually unwavering domination. His furious gaze sears me in place, stopping my lengthy steps midstride. His eyes are dark and haunted, filled with pain. I lace my hands together to hide their shakiness before locking my gaze with his.

  “Hugo has the charter information and documentation required. He will accompany you to Tiburon.”

  My brows scrunch. “I don’t need Hugo to go with me.”

  His furious glance has my pulse quickening and my knees curving inward. “You take Hugo, or you don’t go, Isabelle.” His voice is clipped and stern. “This term is non-negotiable.”

  I nod. It would have taken a lot for him to agree to let me go to Tiburon without him, so I don’t want to push his boundaries even further by refusing his request to take Hugo.

  He works his jaw side to side before saying, “I'm giving you a week, but I can’t give you any more than that. If you aren’t back in a week—”

  “I’ll be back,” I speak through the lump in my throat, and the hurt in his beautiful eyes relodge. “I don’t need any longer than that. I’ll be back within a week.”

  The cloud of pain hampering his eyes lessens, but his anger remains firmly in place. “You better go pack. Your plane leaves in an hour.”

  He takes a seat in his chair before pulling it in close to his desk, dismissing me from his presence without speaking a word. That hurts. I hold in my tears until I enter the hallway, but even then, I have to fight to keep them to a bare minimum since Hugo is pacing behind me.

  I pack the barest necessities, wanting Isaac to be aware I’m planning on coming back. If he looks in our closet, it’s hard to tell I packed. I’m even taking a new toothbrush, so my current one stays next to Isaac’s in the ceramic holder on the vanity in the master bathroom. I want it to be a silent reminder to him that I’m still with him, and I will be back.

  “Is that it?” Hugo queries when I hand him an overstuffed carry-on luggage bag.

  I nod.

  His lips curl into a rueful smirk. “All right. I’ll meet you in the foyer. Roger will take us to the airport.”

  Not waiting for my reply, he heads down the stairwell. I exhale a big breath to settle my nerves before ambling back to Isaac’s office. When I enter, he’s once again on his cell phone, standing near the arch window. When he notices me leaning in the doorjamb, his gaze shifts to me. His brows furrow when he spots my tear-stained face. His clipped tone advises his caller that he’ll call them back before he disconnects and puts his phone away.

  My pulse quickens when he shifts on his feet to face me. “If you cry, I won’t let you leave.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek, giving it my best shot not to let my tears fall. As much as me going back to Tiburon will hurt my relationship with Isaac, I need to do this. I need answers to a whole heap of questions hazing my mind, and the only place I can get those answers is in Tiburon.

  Not giving him a chance to reject me, I finalize the last steps between us, then throw my arms around his neck. I burrow my nose into the crook of his neck and inhale deeply, absorbing the delicious scent of his skin. My heart hammers my ribs when he pulls me in close like he doesn’t want to let me go. He's gripping onto me for dear life, afraid I might vanish.

  I place a kiss on his ear, his ticking jaw, then his mouth. “I love you.”

  Feeling my composure slipping, I whisper a faint goodbye, then race to his door. Before I can exit, he seizes my wrist, yanks me back, then seals his lips over mine. The salt of my tears enhances the flavor of our kiss. It’s a lush, mind-spiraling embrace that’s packed with emotion. I project my sorrow for my cruel words as well as my love.

  By the time he pull
s away, I want to forget everything. I want to sweep it under the rug and act as if it never happened, but I can’t. I need to do this, or our relationship won’t be built on a solid foundation. It will be once again founded on lies and secrets.

  When Isaac cups my cheeks so his thumb can rub away my tears, I urge my tears to stop falling. I can’t leave him crying, or our time apart will hurt him even more—he doesn’t deserve more pain.

  I impress myself with how quickly I can rein in my tears when it’s for Isaac’s benefit. I’ve never been able to stop my tears flowing before, but I'd do anything for the man standing in front of me—even breaking my own heart.

  The concern in Isaac’s eyes lessens when he notices mine are no longer welling with tears. After rubbing his thumb over the cupid’s bow of my lip, he places a kiss on my temple, then abruptly pulls away. His fluid strides have him standing back near his office window quicker than the blink of an eye.

  “Go now, or I’ll never let you go.”

  Pivoting on my heels, I rush out of his office, not risking the chance of looking back because right now, if he asked me to stay, I'd never leave.

  Chapter 27

  Isabelle

  I grunt while increasing the pressure on the door. Because of the build-up of mail placed in the slot, it’s jammed with envelopes and catalogs.

  Hugo’s soft chuckles echo through my ears before he pushes on the door with one hand, opening it with ease.

  I roll my eyes. “Thanks.”

  Tears prick in my eyes when I walk into the place I called home for eighteen years of my life. It looks the same as it did when I left. Even the wooden leg on the dining table still has the drawing I made one evening when Uncle Tobias and his friends were playing poker. I was supposed to be asleep hours earlier, but I hid under the dining table when no one was looking. I learned a lot of new Russian words that night—none worth repeating.