“He showed remorse, so you gave him mercy?”
Isaac tries to deny my claims with the quick shake of his head. It’s a pity for him I don’t need him to voice his confirmation. I can see it in his eyes. They’re the gateway to his soul.
“Mercy bears fruits richer than justice, Isaac.” I push the tablet away from me before spinning around to face him. With my knees hugging his thighs and our groins joined, I tilt my head to align our mouths better. “Just like love always wins in the end.”
11
Isaac
Humble days are priceless to a wealthy man.
After taking in the bland menu in front of me, I glance over at Isabelle, who’s lazing on the daybed of our suite, reading. Our two-bedroom suite isn’t quite up to the standards she’ll soon grow accustomed to now she’s a multimillionaire, but it isn’t too shabby.
When our eyes collide for the quickest second, I ask, “Hungry?”
She peers at me with starved, famished eyes. It was the same look she gave me in the private jet before she sucked me dry of cum. I had planned to return the favor, but Callie’s awakening foiled my plans. She wasn’t happy waking without neither Isabelle or me by her side, and that disdain grew when she discovered Isabelle was occupying my time without her.
I’m certain her reply has a double meaning. “Starving.”
I laugh. She’s always hungry. Mercifully, that statement works for sex as well. Isabelle loves sex. Her passion for vigorous activities is thankfully on par with my appetite, which has us wetting our palettes as often as possible.
Although Callie’s inclusion in our life forced us to become inventive, it hasn’t been all bad. It’s kept things interesting while having me eyeing everyday instruments in a new light. Take the coatroom in our home as an example. Seven months ago, it was an area to store coats. Now, I don’t walk in there without a smile on my face. Scarfs come in handy when you have a woman who screams as much as Isabelle.
Isabelle’s beautiful scent strengthens when she pads toward me. “Is anything tickling your fancy?”
I wait for her to be within earshot before answering her question, “It’s not really a thing. More a person.”
The thrill of the hunt thickens my veins when she scrapes her nails across my pecs. Since I removed my suit jacket, tie, and vest, every millimeter her nails rake adds an inch to the length of my cock. I’m hard in an instant, the strong bond of my zipper and my cock as undeniable as my addiction to Isabelle. She only took me to the brink mere hours ago, but it feels like months.
Isabelle’s tongue delves out to lick her parched mouth when she spots the bulge wrangling to be freed from my trousers. Once they’re gleaming with the spit I’d give anything to taste, she returns her eyes to mine.
“That will have to wait for dessert, sex fiend. We have a spectator.” She nudges her head to the right, highlighting Callie’s watchful glare peering at us over her coloring book. “She’s already not talking to me. I don’t want to give her more reasons to hate me.”
I run my finger up her arm, easing the pain in her eyes with my meekest touch. “She doesn’t hate you.”
Isabelle twists her lips as if she isn’t convinced. I’m sure I can persuade her otherwise. I have that type of advantage over her.
“She’s just jealous of you.” I hit her with a frisky wink. It brings back the smile I’d kill for. “Can you blame her?”
Coyness and playfulness surge through her blood at the same time. “Have you been hanging out with Colby, Isaac? His cockiness must have rubbed off on you.”
The tick impinging my jaw is heard in my reply. “Better than what he wants to rub against you.”
My teeth grit when she has the audacity to wink at me. If I weren’t aware she’s being playful, I’d have Levi recommence negotiations to buy out Harlow’s bakery. Harlow’s constant assurance to Isabelle that jealousy sex is by far the best sex is thinning my patience. I’m not a patient man as it is, much less when it comes to Isabelle.
“Callie Cat…” Isabelle’s use of Callie’s nickname softens the little groove between a set of eyes identical to her big sister’s in every way. “I think I saw a park on the way to the hotel.” The excitement in Isabelle’s voice has Callie’s breathing picking up. “Did you see it, too?”
This, right here, is why I sought advice on having my vasectomy reversed. Isabelle thinks her rough, brutish upbringing means she doesn’t have a nurturing side. She does. She just needs people like Callie and Jeremiah to bring it out of her.
When Callie nods, Isabelle joins her on the floor. She sits cross-legged on a rug in a room that costs more per night than most people’s first car, oddly looking at home. “What are your thoughts on ordering some burgers and fries and taking them to the park to eat them?”
Callie’s eyes pop up to mine to seek my permission. It’s obvious the first three years of her childhood were controlled by a man. Isabelle and I are endeavoring to change that. As much as I control all aspects of my empire, that no longer extends to my personal life. The two most influential people in my life are female, so the bigamist mindset the Popov entity runs with won’t be acceptable in my life—neither personal nor business.
Callie’s focus darts back to Isabelle when I dip my chin in agreement. “Can Barry come?”
Barry is her stuffed bunny.
Isabelle rakes her finger through Callie’s glossy brown locks. “Of course, he can. I’ll even order him his own plate of carrot sticks.”
