by D. Camille
She paused. “I can't hear you Princess.”
“Uh...twelve, thirteen...”
When his hand invaded her unseen spot and began a sensual massage, she moaned that throaty sound that made him hard as a brick. He soon felt her feminine juices release on his fingers.
“Oh lord!” she groaned as her legs opened wider.
“That's not a number.”
Marc treated her to the pleasure a short while longer before sliding her panties down her long legs and over her manicured feet. Slowly he slid his hands up her legs to her trembling thighs parting them wide.
“Now Princess, tell me if your girlfriends told you correctly.”
He lowered his head and before he was done, Isis called on every deity known to man.
Chapter 7
Isis regained her breath and looked down into sizzling gray eyes. Marc smiled as he climbed over her while holding her gaze and Isis watched the beautiful, brown muscled body settle above her resting on his elbows.
“Are you still nervous?”
She shook her head watching him closely. “Not at all.”
He turned them on their sides facing one another. “Why have you waited?”
“I didn't want to do it with just anyone. No one even made me think about it until you,” she whispered. “And then I thought about it all the time.” She blushed.
Marc gently stroked her arm. “I thought about you too, although I didn't want to.”
Isis touched his face. “The first time I saw your eyes, I was captivated. They're so beautiful and distinctive.”
“Did you think about it with Trent?” he asked.
Isis frowned. “Trent? No.”
“I just want to know what I'm dealing with here. Trent already thought he and I were involved in some kind of triangle and I don't want to feel the same way,” he told her.
“A triangle with Trent?” Isis sat up reaching for the covers and pulling them over her body. “What are you talking about?”
Marc sat up. “For some reason, Trent thought I had intentions on Callie. Then I recently found out that you had been involved with Trent.”
“We weren't involved. We met and went out a few times,” she explained. “He met Callie and wanted to be with her.”
Marc lifted a brow. “So he was the one who broke it off?”
Isis frowned. “There was nothing to break off.”
“You went to see him when Callie and I were in Colombia?” he questioned.
She jumped from the bed pulling the sheet with her. “What are you trying to say?”
“I'm just asking questions Isis. I'm trying to understand what the hell is going on with all of you,” he told her.
Her eyes flashed. “You wait until now to ask me this? After...”
Marc climbed from the bed and walked over to her. “When we get back to the city, I'm not trying to walk into a bunch a drama.”
Isis looked up at him. “I told you, Trent and I went out a few times. We met at my graduation party and he asked me to give him a tour of the campus since he was considering USC. I didn't really take him seriously because he's four years younger than me.”
“You're four years younger than me,” he pointed out.
“He just turned eighteen Marcus!”
Marc nodded and took her stiff hand. “I always ask questions. It's who I am. I wasn't trying to offend you.”
Isis looked at him. “Did something happen between you and Callie in Colombia?”
“No.”
“Everyone thought she was dead. Did you rescue her too?” she asked with narrowed eyes thinking about how he'd rescued her.
He shook his head. “No, I didn't rescue Callie. She was there working for Ray.”
Isis watched him silently for a few moments before he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer.
He lowered his head. “You don't want Trent. I don't want Callie. They're in love and that's where we're heading.”
Isis smiled slightly. “Is that where we're heading?” she whispered.
“Half way there Princess.” He touched his lips to hers. “Is that where you want to go?”
She looked into those eyes. “I want you to take me there.”
Marc pulled the sheet she was holding to cover herself and tossed it on the bed. Watching her face, he removed her bra and cradled her breasts before tasting her lips. Slowly he devoured her mouth and caressed her body, making her warm all over. Isis held on to his solid biceps to keep herself balanced as he engaged her mouth.
Marc moved from her lips and down her neck, before lying her down on the bed. She caressed his back as he readied her untouched body. Marc took a leisurely tour of the sexy, curvaceous form before him tasting, touching and sucking all over.
Isis took a leisurely tour of her own running her manicured hands along the ridges of his muscular body. She gave herself up to the pleasure of his mouth on her neck, her nipples, her thighs and finally her mouth.
Marc stood and Isis watched him through passion-filled eyes as he removed his dark underwear. Her eyes locked on him as he silently added the protection he'd placed on the nightstand. Isis opened her arms to him as he returned to her embrace.
“Sweet Princess,” he breathed against her neck as he settled between her soft legs.
“Marcus...” she whispered.
He settled at her warm entrance. “Wrap those beautiful legs around me sweetheart,” he instructed.
Isis followed his instructions then felt the initial pressure. She stiffened slightly as he continued gently gliding inside her heated walls. Platinum eyes held dark brown ones as she caught her breath. When he began a slow rhythm, her eyes slowly closed.
Marc stared down into her lovely face and saw his future. This woman was giving him something that she'd never given before. She was trusting him with her body and her heart; and he vowed he would be the shield for both. He felt her legs tighten around him as he increased the pace, which heightened her pleasure by the look on her face.
Her eyes slowly opened connecting with his gaze. Isis looped her arms around his neck and brought his mouth to hers. She moaned deeply in her throat and the sound spurred him on to bring her to the ultimate pleasure.
His name was ripped from her mouth and came out as a groan in his ear. Marc slid a hand underneath her ass to lift her higher to receive more of him. His hardened flesh eased inside then withdrew and with each deep stroke he felt her coming closer to completion. When she did release, her entire body tightened around him like a velvet glove as her head fell back, and her eyes closed as she finished on a high pitched-sigh.
Marc continued to fill her body until he exploded deep within her then stayed on top of her balancing his weight while studying her face.
“You're so beautiful,” he said quietly.
Her eyes slowly opened and looked up at him. “You're beautiful. I can't believe how beautiful you are,” she responded.
He smiled at her and she touched his face. “You rarely smile, especially at me,” she whispered.
“My job doesn't call for smiling but if you want me to smile at you, I'll remember that.”
She smiled back at him before he began to kiss her. Isis pulled him closer feeling safe in his embrace. Marc had loved her so gently and lovingly. Her heart had been filled to capacity from his gentleness. This man had given her something she would cherish for the rest of her life. He hadn't taken her for just his own pleasure. He had slowly introduced her to the beauty of physical love.
“I need you to loosen your legs,” he said kissing her neck.
“Why?” Isis asked.
“I need to get up before I crush you.”
Isis obliged and felt bereft as he lifted from her body and headed to the bathroom. She stared up at the ceiling and a smile spread across her face. Agent Marcus Graham was more than she ever imagined. He returned and climbed into the bed next to her pulling the sheet over their bodies.
Lying on his side, he looked at her. “Is everything okay?”
<
br /> “Yes, everything is wonderful,” she smiled.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Not at all, thank you for being so patient and gentle.”
Marc touched her hair. “I never want to hurt you Isis.”
“You didn't and I'm ready for more.” Her eyes darkened as she stared at his sexy muscled chest.
He smiled at her again then turned her until her back was to him. Lovingly he ran a hand down her spine from her neck to her bottom. She glanced back at him over her shoulder and smiled.
Marc moved her hair aside and kissed her neck before pulling her back against his full erection. “Now I can show you what I get compliments for.”
“I want to find out,” she whispered back before poking her bottom up against what was waiting for her.
Now that she'd had a taste of Marcus Graham, Isis was ready for the entire meal.
**********
Milton Martin sat in his study trying to figure out how to get in touch with his daughter Isis. That damn Ray Parker hadn't told him anything and when he called Isabelle, her phone went directly to voicemail. Somehow, he had to find her and he would do whatever he had to do.
Milton looked up as his oldest daughter entered the room. Shana was conceived before he met Isabelle and Isis' mother. He'd never confirmed to Iris that Shana was his daughter. Her mother had given her the name Millicent after him, but she had chosen to go by her middle name since her father had not been in her life.
Milton had tried to make it up to Shana by buying her everything she asked for but that had just made her both bitter and spoiled. She had a hatred for both of her half-sisters, especially Isabelle. Milton hoped she never acted on her feelings against Isis. That is where he would have to draw the line.
“Hi Daddy!” Shana greeted coming to kiss her father's cheek.
Milton smiled as she took one of the comfy seats across from him. “Hello Shana.”
“Why did you want to see me today?” she asked.
He sighed. “They've taken your sister and I can't find her.”
Shana frowned. “I don't have a sister so if you're talking about Isabelle, I hope they kill her.”
Milton matched her frown. “I'm not talking about Isabelle, I'm talking about Isis.”
Shana shrugged. “They can kill her too.”
He slammed a fist on the desk. “The hell they can! They'd better not lay a hand on my baby girl!”
“I'm your baby girl Daddy!” Shana yelled.
Milton tried to calm down. “Look Shana, I need to find her. I can't have her turning against me.”
“You don't need them Daddy, you've got me,” Shana told him.
“I need to find her dammit!” he yelled. “If I don't find her, I'll die!”
Shana jumped to her feet. “I hope she's dead!”
Milton stood quickly to give a retort but before he could speak, he grabbed his chest trying to catch his breath. “Call 911...” he whispered before falling to the floor unconscious.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Shana rushed to his side. “Oh my god! Daddy!”
One of the cooks rushed into the kitchen and saw Milton lying on the floor with Shana over his body screaming his name. Moving into action, she rushed over to the desk and picked up the phone calling for emergency help.
The paramedics arrived minutes later and began working on Milton. Shana stood in terror as they ministered to her father.
“Miss, can you tell us what happened?” the attendant asked.
“He was yelling and then he grabbed his chest. He told me to call 911!” she said frantically.
“Does he have a history of heart problems?” he asked.
Shana shook her head. “No. I don't know,” she said confused.
“Are you related to him?”
“He's my Daddy.”
The attendant nodded. “We're taking him to the hospital. He's not conscious but he's breathing.”
“Is he going to die?” she asked.
“I can't say. You can ride in the ambulance with him if you like.”
Shana rushed to the truck where her father had been loaded. She looked down into his face and took his hand. “It's okay Daddy. I'll take care of everything.”
*********
Isis walked into the kitchen with Marc holding her hand. After demonstrating to her that her back could actually arch like a bow, he'd asked her to come and help fix a meal for them. Isis didn't tell him that she didn't spend much, scratch that...any time in the kitchen. She figured she'd just wing it when she got there. She'd watched the cooks at her Daddy's home and even a few shows on the Food Network and it hadn't appeared to be that difficult.
He placed his weapon on the counter and moved to the fridge, surveying the contents as she surveyed him. Agent Marcus Graham was plain and simple, all out fine. The things he'd done to her in that bedroom had made her do everything from blushing to screaming. He'd told her that he was starting her out slowly and she was anticipating the increase in speed.
“How about I grill some steaks and you sauté some veggies?” he asked turning to her.
Isis froze. Sauté? “Uh..., sure. That's fine.”
She bit her lip and watched as he removed items from the refrigerator before placing them on the counter.
“The pans are over in that cabinet,” he told her as he took the steaks and began to season them.
Isis moved slowly to where he'd indicated and opened the cabinet door. There was an assortment of cookware before her and she stood staring.
“What's wrong Princess?” he asked looking up.
She quickly glanced back at him. “Uh...just deciding which one I want to use.”
“I think the larger skillet, since I'm very hungry.” He winked at her.
Isis smiled then turned back grabbing what she hoped was a skillet and turned to the stove. She utilized mostly delivery and the microwave at her apartment. She rarely, if ever used the stovetop. Cautiously Isis turned the knob and when the fire ignited, she jumped. Nervously she glanced back and saw Marc intently seasoning the steaks on a platter. He finished and picked up the meat.
“I'll be right outside if you need me.” He came over and kissed her lips.
She returned his kiss then watched as he picked up his weapon and walked out to the patio. Isis bit her lip and looked at the vegetables he'd placed on the counter then to the pan next to the stove. She wished she had access to her phone. At least she could Google and see what she was supposed to do.
Think Isis...you're smart. Vegetables can't be that hard to cook. They're vegetables, people eat them raw so cooking them shouldn't be difficult, she thought.
She placed the skillet on the very generous flames and grabbed the oil on the counter, pouring a generous amount into the pan. She'd seen the cook use oil to prepare things so she thought it was needed. Isis took the pre-cut vegetables consisting of broccoli, cauliflower, Brussel sprouts and carrots then dumped them all into the hot pan causing the oil to splatter and catch the flames. Her eyes widened as the flames grew and surrounded the pan.
“Oh my god!” she screeched.
Moving quickly she went to the sink and started the water before turning to look for something to put it in. Her only thought was that she had to put the fire out...
Marc started the grill then put his sunglasses on. He placed the prime cuts of meat on the fire before heading back inside to see if Isis needed any help. He heard her cry and switched immediately into agent mode. He was in the kitchen in a flash and quickly assessed the situation. His vision went from the blazing fire to Isis holding jug of water.
He grabbed her. “Isis no!”
She tried to pull away to get to the stove. “Marcus there's a fire!”
Marc removed the jug from her hand and dumped it into the sink. “Don't move!”
He sat his weapon aside then reached inside the cabinet for a lid and rushed over to the stove turning the knob, cutting the fire underneath. Calmly he smothered the remaining flames
with the lid, before moving the pan from the stove and sitting it to the side.
Turning he rushed over to her. “Are you okay? Did you get burned?” he asked while looking over her bare arms.
Shaking she answered, “No, I'm fine. Why did you stop me from putting the fire out?”
“You can't put water on a grease fire. It makes the flames spread,” he explained calmly.
“Oh...I didn't know that.”
“What happened sweetheart?” His hand went to her face lifting it to his.
Marc watched in confusion as her eyes watered. “I'm sorry,” she whispered very softly.
“Sorry for what?”
Her face scrunched. “I started the fire...because I don't know how to sauté,” she admitted.
“So why didn't you say that before you tried to burn down Ray's multi-million dollar home?” Marc questioned softly looking down at her.
Isis lowered her gaze. “I didn't know how.”
“Uh, 'Marcus I can't sauté' would have sufficed.”
She looked back at him with watery eyes. “I can't cook. I don't know how. I never had to.”
“Now was that hard?” he asked catching the single tear that slipped from her eye.
Isis smiled slightly. “Yes, very much so.”
“Why Isis?”
She shrugged. “Society says that I'm not a real woman if I can't cook and clean. How can I fulfill what every woman's alleged lifelong dream is of taking care of a husband and family if I'm not domesticated?”
She looked at him. “I will try but my husband will either help me or hire someone, like my Daddy did.”
Marc caressed her cheek. “If it's a choice between you cooking and me dying, I'd hire anyone you want.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Just tell me sweetheart. I'll never judge you.”
Isis laid her head on his shoulder holding him tightly. “Thank you Marcus. You don't know how much that means to me.”
It meant more to Isis than he could ever imagine. All of her life, she'd been judged as the light-skinned, rich girl with pretty hair. The fact that she was smart and double majored in college was often overlooked, along with the fact that she was a sweet, loyal and kindhearted person.
To Isis, being the daughter in a wealthy family was not a badge of shame, it was a blessing. No, she hadn't lived a hard life and she wouldn't apologize for it. She just tried to be the best person she could be.
