Isabella's Submission [Fate Harbor 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Caitlyn O'Leary

  Breaking away, Isabella saw his lips slick and wet. Embarrassed, she turned her head and buried it in the pillow.

  “Bella, what’s wrong? Tell me. Talk to me.” Caleb caressed the curve of her cheek, again causing tingles throughout her body. She couldn’t. His voice firmed. “Bella, look at me.” It was clearly a command. She turned her head, and gone was the gentle expression. “Now tell me.”

  “Your lips, I can tell we kissed.” She watched, fascinated as his tongue swiped up the moisture and he smiled in satisfaction.

  “Yeah, sweetheart, we kissed and we’re going to again.” His hand sank back into her curls, bringing her head up to his, melding their mouths into the most potent kiss of her entire life. Isabella whimpered, but not in distress. Rather she needed more, and she strove to get closer, her hands once again reaching around his back as she dug her nails into his tempting muscles.

  She felt dizzy. She felt outside herself. Deeper and deeper, she fell under this man’s spell. She pushed her aching breasts against Caleb’s chest, bemoaning the fact that there was a thin layer of cotton separating her diamond-hard nipples from the hair on his chest. Then she felt her legs moving. She couldn’t seem to help it. She was rubbing them together, trying to get relief. Her sex was pulsing, as if the lips of her vagina were actually swelling, and she felt moisture seeping out. She pressed her thighs together, feeling even more embarrassed than when she saw Caleb’s beautifully sculpted lips after their kisses.

  Caleb eased back from her, slightly. “Part your legs for me, sweetheart.” His large, denim-covered leg pressed against the seam of her tightly closed legs. He bit at her bottom lip. The two sensations proved to be too much for her. Isabella relaxed her legs and he eased forward. The rough fabric of his jeans rasped against her, and as he bent his knee, his thigh pressed against her core. Caleb was now moving his leg up and down against her cotton panties, pushing them between the lips of her sex, so that the denim was now rubbing her outer labia. Isabella cried out, wresting her mouth away from his and biting down on the cord of muscle leading from his neck to his powerful shoulder. He kept going, and Isabella moved against him, rocking back and forth, loving the rough scrape. She knew she was on the edge of having an orgasm. That had never happened to Isabella with a man, and the fact that it was Caleb Samuels…

  “Sweetheart, I’ve got you. Let go.” And with that one raspy command she flew, barely aware that her legs were split wide, her dripping wet panties slid deeper into the seam of her pussy, pushing against her clit. She thrashed her head, and Caleb gripped her hair to stop her, but his tug turned up the volume on her exploding climax.

  “More, Caleb, please pull my hair more!” She wrapped her legs around his muscled thigh, pumping upward. For an instant she was aware of Caleb’s emerald eyes looking deeply into hers. Then his mouth slammed down on hers, taking her in a kiss of possession. He was saying she belonged to him. His tongue thrust into her mouth again and again. There was no sweet seduction this time, he pillaged. His fingers tightened in her hair as he pulled her closer, the dual sensations sublime.

  As she felt his other hand moving downward, she prayed that he would finally touch her breasts. She was sharply disappointed when he continued downward, bypassing the needy nubs. He grabbed the hem of her sleep shirt, and with one deft move had it up over her head and on the floor. Isabella lifted her hands to cover her breasts. “No!” It was hard to tell who was more surprised.

  “Bella?”

  “Um, Caleb…” Isabella felt her breathing increase. Oh no. In and out. She was in trouble. She looked up at Caleb panicked, and somehow he knew. She didn’t know how, but somehow he figured it out. He found the edge of the sheet and pulled it over her breasts. Relieved, she managed to take an even breath again. She pulled her hands out from under the sheet, pulling the sheet up higher and looked down. Her nipples still were prominently displayed, and they still ached badly.

  “Tell me.” Just those two words from Caleb in that commanding voice and Isabella didn’t question. She just nodded. But she couldn’t look at him. It was too humiliating.

  Her eyes downcast, her voice low, she relived her degradation for Caleb. “It was Brian, the last man I was with.”

  “Boy.” Caleb’s voice brooked no argument from her.

  “He said…” she swallowed and then spit it out. “He said I looked deformed. My areolas aren’t normal.”

  “Ahh fuck, Bella.” Now Caleb’s voice sounded low and laced with pain.

  * * * *

  Every time he thought he had plumbed the depths of Isabella’s suffering, Caleb only seemed to break through to yet another level. He understood how intricately women’s breasts were tied to their sexuality. What he wouldn’t give to have just three minutes alone with the prick who had said that to the girl Bella had been. Hell, one minute should do the trick. He looked down at Isabella. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t doing anything. She was frozen back in that mortifying moment. The responsive woman who had been writhing in his arms just minutes before was gone. He was determined to get her back.

  “Bella, look at me.” He used his command voice. She immediately looked up at him. Her brown eyes were distant, but they were facing in his direction. “I need you to focus on me. Can you do that?” He saw her give her head a slight nod, and then she was seeing him, was with him. “Every woman’s body is different and beautiful, and every man’s body is different and beautiful.”

  She opened her mouth, ostensibly to argue. Before she could even start, he grabbed both of her wrists in one hand, pulling them over her head, as he tugged the sheet off that covered her with the other. His eyes flicked down and saw what he expected. Isabella had gorgeous cone-shaped breasts with large, dusky, rose-colored areolas topped by nipples that were no longer erect with desire.

  Quickly he looked back up at Isabella, still in his grip and barely breathing, waiting for his judgment. Caleb released her and guided her right hand down until it was cupping his denim-covered cock, which pulsed in excitement at her touch.

  “You like my breasts.” It came out as a puff of air. It came out with an air of wonder. He worked damned hard to keep his smile happy and not sad. It should have been easier, considering she was cupping his cock, but the idea that Isabella had spent years thinking her breasts were deformed made him sad. He felt sad and mad.

  “Bella, I love your breasts.” He bent forward, touching his nose to hers and eliciting the laugh he’d hoped to win. “Now, the question is, will you allow me a chance to touch you? I’m dying here, sweetheart.” Caleb held back nothing, letting her see all the need that he was feeling. Little wrinkles formed between her brows as her eyes searched his.

  “Caleb, I really wanted you to touch me. I just didn’t want you to see me.”

  “Well, Bella, I wanted to do both and now I can. I have one more question.” His hand drifted up to cup one heavy warm globe and it was glorious. He knew it would be. But even better was the way her eyes drifted shut and her back arched as she pushed herself further into his hand. Oh, his Bella liked to be touched.

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  “Yes what, sweetheart?”

  “Your question, yes.” He grinned.

  “Such a good answer. Such a good girl.” He bent down, parting his lips and sucked the tip into the warm cavern of his mouth. Ah God, he had never tasted anything half as sweet.

  “Caleb, oh Caleb, it’s so good! It feels so good.” He suckled harder, lashing his tongue against the tip, determined to get her nipple back to its aroused state. Her hand came up, cupping his, forcing it tighter against her breast. His Bella liked a firmer touch. He squeezed harder.

  Caleb moved his attentions to the other breast, ever so carefully taking the delicate tip between his teeth and biting softly. Her mewl went straight to his cock. At the same time, he plumped her other breast, stroking it from base to tip, noting how she rocked back and forth in time with his ministrations. She brought her hands up and then did the most erotic thing possi
ble. She began to lightly scratch circles into his scalp. This woman read him perfectly.

  When he lifted his mouth from her breast, she cried out. He reluctantly released her other breast and looked down at her face. Her features were drenched in passion, her eyes glazed.

  “Bella, are you with me?”

  “Mmm.”

  “Are you here?” Caleb asked as he slid his hand lower and lower.

  “Yes, Caleb, yes, always yes.”

  “Yes, Bella, I agree. Bella, always yes.” Her soft stomach was so warm as he breached the cotton of her panties. He felt the soft nether curls as he pushed away the cloth embedded deep into the seam of her sex. Then at last, he was touching the moist heat of her cunt and he shuddered. He continued watching her, and her eyes were glassy, she was so lost in the moment. Caleb felt a heady joy that he was taking her on this journey, as he parted the lips of her sex.

  Her entire body trembled and her graceful, bountiful breasts caught his eye. He had to have another taste. This time, he sucked in the entire large areola, now sensitive to his touch and swollen. He wondered whether the lips of her sex were swollen and full, as well. God, he needed to be buried inside this woman, but he didn’t have a condom. Caleb hadn’t come in here to make love. He’d come in here to give comfort. The silky feel of her cum on his fingers was driving him insane. He lifted his head to see that she was slowly turning her head back and forth on the pillow.

  “More, Bella?”

  “Yes, always yes, Caleb.” He made sure that one of his fingers rasped against her clit. She gave a muted shriek and he trailed his finger down to the valley of her sex and pushed into the entrance of her vagina, having to work it in against the tight muscles. Despite her earlier orgasm, she still was not relaxed enough to allow him an easy entrance. With tiny inward pushes he increased his penetration, until finally his entire finger was intimately inside her. He swirled and swirled, listening and watching. Isabella’s dazed countenance took on a confused expression as she started to huff, and he crooked his finger, rubbing that spot in tiny tight circles.

  “Mmm, uhm, Caleb. What’s happening? It’s more…it’s so much more.” Her voice came out in a sob. This time he was going to take her higher than she could imagine. With his other hand, Caleb pinched her nipple in rhythm with the stroking of his finger. Then he leaned down and took her nipple between his teeth again, gently nipping to the same tempo. He didn’t answer her, he just continued, feeling the sweat form on his brow as he heard her sobs come out louder and closer, until finally, she wailed out her release. It was a near thing for him, as well. Only the fact that he had trained his body for years to stay under his control, no matter the situation, saved him from coming in his jeans. God, she was magnificent in her passion.

  He slowly extracted his finger, ensuring that it brushed against her clit.

  “Caleb, it’s…again.” Perfect, she was perfect. He circled and circled, watching Isabella’s dazed expression turn slumberous, as she sank deeper into a haze. She was lost in her need and want. This woman who had deftly handled one of the most dangerous situations he could imagine by rescuing all of those children, was relinquishing control to him. It was intoxicating. Caleb was beginning to better understand why Leif had such a great need to dominate. He feathered her clit, watching her wince and press up against his finger, fighting for her pleasure. When he softened his touch, knowing that her body was unused to loving, she clamped his hand down, forcing the harder caress she apparently craved. Caleb knew his fingers were rough, but he gave this woman what she wanted, and was rewarded with another cry of satisfaction.

  He released her breast, bringing his hand up to his mouth to lick her cum off his fingers, causing her to blush. Slowly rolling her head back and forth on the pillow, Isabella’s brown eyes glittered as he suckled her juices from his digits. He looked down the length of her body, satisfied to see that her ankle was still elevated and centered amongst the pillows. When he looked up again, her eyes were closed and her head was still. He gathered her against his chest, gratified when he heard the steady sounds of sleep.

  Caleb waited until he saw her eyelids begin to flicker, showing the signs of a deep REM sleep, and then he eased away from her. He and Leif needed to talk before she woke up. They needed a plan, and they needed one fast.

  Chapter 7

  Fucking bastard. Fucking asshole. Leif hated him. He’d always hated him. He didn’t know why he put up with him. He’d hated him in grade school. Hated him in middle school. Certainly hated him when Caleb had been the fullback and he’d been the quarterback in high school. Fucker couldn’t block worth shit. Leif didn’t bother turning around when he heard the door to the master suite open. He knew it was Caleb. It was opening too softly to be anyone else. God damn motherfucker.

  “You always held onto the ball too long,” Caleb said as he passed him on the way to the fridge.

  “You let every single player by you. You never held the line.” Leif held out his hand for a beer.

  “You going to be a pissy asshole long?” Caleb asked, as he handed over the imported beer that Leif favored. “Because we have things we need to talk about.”

  “I need to be a pissy asshole a bit longer.”

  They moved to the living room. Leif sat stiffly in the leather armchair while Caleb spread out on the couch. They continued to drink their beers in silence.

  “Just so we’re clear, Samuels, if you use the word ‘pout’ in a sentence, we’re going outside and I’m going to pound you into so much dust.” Leif watched as his best friend’s eyebrow cocked up. They were good. As good as they could be, considering the god damn motherfucker had just spent the last half hour pleasuring Isabella. Probably got to see her naked, too.

  Caleb’s slow grin was all Leif needed to set his teeth on edge.

  “You said we needed to talk,” Leif prompted.

  “That girl has been fucked over and is still holding onto so much pain. I can’t believe she’s as together as she is. She ought to be curled up somewhere licking her wounds, not holding down two jobs, and rescuing a bunch of kids from human trafficking scum.” Leif shut his eyes for a moment, attempting to center himself. He wasn’t really surprised. There was something about Isabella that cried out to him from the start. The way she had called them both Mr. Samuels and Mr. Johansen for much longer than convention dictated, the way she hardly ever met their eyes—her wounded soul tugged away at his heart. He had secretly thrilled when she addressed him as ‘sir’ again and again. He knew that Isabella had felt it, too. She somehow needed to defer to them. Leif was elated by the deference but he no longer wanted to be called ‘Sir.’ That was his military past, this was his future. As long as Isabella used his name with that same tone of deference, he was in heaven.

  He carefully watched her interactions with others and learned she didn’t exhibit these deferential tendencies to anyone else. No, Isabella recognized something unique within him and Caleb. They had a connection and this connection came with responsibilities. A relationship of this ilk required that he care for her. It was his duty to ensure that nobody ever hurt her again, including himself.

  “Tell me,” he said, leaning forward in his chair.

  “Those frat boys,” Caleb spit out. “They did a number on her self-esteem. Body issues.”

  “But she’s gorgeous!” Leif looked at Caleb, thinking he must have misheard. “How the fuck can someone as beautiful as Isabella think that there is something wrong with her?” He looked at Caleb and saw the smile that he knew so well, and realized that Caleb was feeling very pleased with himself.

  “Spill it, Samuels.”

  “God, you have got to see her breasts! They are magnificent, Leif, a fucking feast! That’s what the jackass told her was wrong with her. God, I can’t do her justice. You just have to see for yourself.” And just like that, Leif felt his cock swell, but this time there was no anger, because he realized that his best friend had made the woman he was coming to deeply care for feel precious.
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  “That was the fucked-over part. What about the grief part?” Caleb leaned forward, both men intent on the conversation.

  “She has nightmares about her parents’ car crash and she cries for them in her sleep. But she admitted she’s never cried about their deaths when she’s awake. She said she can’t.”

  “Never?”

  “Not even when she was first notified, or the days afterward,” Caleb confirmed.

  “That explains everything.”

  “Did to me. Jesus, Leif, she was just a baby.”

  Leif considered getting another beer. “Juice?” he asked, getting up.

  “Yeah, we’re stocked. I knew we’d be having lots of little visitors once Bella arrived. Get me a bottle of Cranapple?” Leif sorted through the fully stocked fridge and grabbed two juice bottles.

  He stopped to look out the sliding doors toward the backyard. It was a perfect Pacific Northwest day. A couple of puffy white clouds tickled the azure sky. The evergreen trees circling the perimeter of the yard clearly delineated an ideal play area for Isabella’s young students, though some would doubtless try to wander into the woods. The adults would have to keep an eye out. Leif could see right now that he and Caleb would have to install some equipment for children to play on—swings and jungle gyms. Isabella would want to have kids over to play when she moved in, and she would be moving in.