39
Isabelle
At precisely 6 PM, Isaac’s town car pulls up to the curve in front of the building my office is housed in. I scan the surrounding area, ensuring no one is watching before opening the passenger side door and slipping into the front seat.
“Hey, Isabelle,” Hugo greets me in his usual friendly tone before pulling the car into the dense commuter traffic.
After securing my seatbelt, I reply, “Hey, Hugo,” trying to mimic the long drawl of his rugged voice.
He chuckles at my playful taunt. My smile freezes halfway when I hear my name roll off a tongue that has made me quiver more times the past seventy-two hours than I have in the entire span of my sexually active life.
I twist my head to the back of the car so quick, I nearly give myself whiplash. My mouth waters when I spot Isaac sitting in the backseat. He has removed his jacket and tie, and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up near his elbows. Even with his lips thinned into a hard line, and his face marred by an angry scowl, he looks scrumptious enough to eat.
Unlatching my belt, I throw myself over the partition with more eagerness than I did weeks ago. Hugo slaps my backside when it is thrust in his face during my unladylike maneuver.
Isaac’s face remains stern during our playfulness, but I see the slightest curve on his ravenous mouth that gives away his true feelings. He is happy.
“Hi,” I greet, plopping into the space next to him.
My teeth menace my bottom lip as my eyes absorb Isaac’s handsome face. He appraises me with just as much eagerness while pushing a button on the console of the back passenger door.
I swallow to relieve my dry throat as my eyes flick between Isaac and the rising privacy partition.
Once the barrier is in place, Isaac’s lifts his eyes to me. “Remove your clothes, but leave your panties on.”
A rush of heat blemishes my cheeks as my eyes stray to the partition. “Hugo can’t hear or see anything,” Isaac assures me.
Licking my parched lips, I do as instructed. If our time together has taught me anything, it is that submissiveness is well-rewarded by Isaac.
Once my clothing is removed, Isaac glides down the fly on his trousers. My eyes widen when he releases his stiff cock from its tight restraints before fisting it in his hand. Warm slickness builds between my legs when he slides his manly hand up and down his thickened shaft. His seamless pumps have a fire raging out of control in my sex.
“Tonight, you're not allowed to touch me, Isabelle,” Isaac grunts, his husky voice adding more excitement to the sexually satisfying visual playing out in front of me.
Hell, if watching Isaac pleasing himself is my punishment, I’ll happily accept it.I’m confident watching him crumble into ecstasy will have me toppling into orgasmic bliss.
My breaths increase with every stroke to his magnificent cock. He glides his thumb over his engorged knob, gathering a sticky bead of goodness pooling at the top from raking his eyes down my naked body. I groan when he slides it down his shaft, using it as lubricant to increase the quickness of his grinds.
Over time, the urge to touch him overwhelms me. I thought the visual alone would be enough to quell my need to touch him. It isn’t.
Although Isaac’s stern gaze hides his inner battle, his beautiful eyes relay he is also fighting the same struggle. He wants to touch me as bad as I am dying to touch him.
“Are you wet?” Isaac questions a short time later.
Unable to speak, I nod. I’m beyond wet; I’m drenched. Every spring in my body is coiled, prepared to snap at any moment, but my desire to touch him is more rampant than my wish to climax.
The heat in the interior of the car turns stifling when Isaac continues his pursuit of his climax. Although the visual of him stroking himself is one I’ll forever cherish, not touching him is nearly killing me. One touch. That is all I want. I need to feel my skin on his.
My bottom lip drops into a pout when Isaac slaps away my hand.
“Please let me touch you,” I shamelessly beg, no longer capable of fighting my desire.
I need to feel him, touch him, taste him. I need it more than I require my next breath.
“I wanted to touch you today.” A bead of sweat glides down his cheek as his strokes quicken. “Even just your lips on mine, but I was denied. Now, I'm denying you the same opportunity.”
“That isn’t fair.” My voice is nearly a sob. “I got reprimanded for being late to work becauseIgave in toyourpleas this morning.”
My anger boils when he shrugs.
