The control she’s slowly harnessing over her body is mesmerizing, and it has a wet patch forming on the crotch of my trousers. Isabelle is beautiful no matter what, but when she’s flushed with ecstasy, she’s not the only one struggling to keep a rational head. My astuteness, levelheadedness, and ruthlessness needed to control every aspect of our lives are null and void when she’s quivering beneath me.
The power Isabelle has over me is astounding and utterly frightening at the same time. I put my empire on the line to pursue a woman capable of destroying me, and it enriched my life in a way I could have never predicted. I have never felt more alive than now.
Like the situation could grow more intense, the light above our heads captures the platinum band around my ring finger. Its sparks of light are a reminder of our day, how we unified and became one. It has me sliding my fingers deeper into Isabelle, taking her to the brink like I didn’t demand a peep not to leave her lips.
I can tell she’s enjoying this, her arousal is slicking my palm, and the faintest misting of sweat is coating her skin, but she’s giving it her all to follow my command. I’m not surprised. My hands are on her, which means she no longer has control of her body.
That pleasure solely belongs to me.
When the roar of the jet’s engines has Isabelle’s pussy clutching my fingers, I place pressure on her clit with my thumb. She’s too turned on to express her fear with words, but that doesn’t stop her body announcing her concerns.
As her breaths turn urgent, I press my lips to the shell of her ear, so I can tell her all the things I’m going to do to her once the plane is at the desired height. How I’m going to fuck her mouth before fucking her even more ravenous pussy, and how every orifice she owns will be covered with my cum by the time we land in Ravenshoe.
Isabelle stills for the quickest second when the jet’s tires lift off the runway before the most beautiful expression crosses her face. She’s not fretful. She is about to climax.
“Eyes, Isabelle.”
I imagine her throat burning from suppressing the screams I see in her eyes when they lock with mine. Her shudders are less impacting without the moans they regularly arrive with, but the visual isn’t any less stimulating. Her pert nipples bud against her dress as her beautiful scent strengthens. As she slicks my hand with evidence of her climax, I slow the grinds of my fingers, gently guiding her down from her toe-curling orgasm.
After several long, heart-thrashing seconds of silence, she leans across my seat so she can hide her flushed face in my neck. Her warm breaths tickling my chin add to the thump of my pulse, but it has nothing on the euphoria I feel when she whispers five little words I’ll never grow tired of hearing, “I love you, my husband.”
18
Isabelle
One surprise is never enough.
Heat rises on my cheeks when Isaac guides me to the open hatch of our private jet. I’ve been caught in compromising positions with Isaac countless times the past nine-plus months, but today is the first time I’ve orgasmed while being seated mere feet from a stranger.
“Mr. Holt. Mrs. Holt.” The male air steward’s low tone exposes he’s as embarrassed as me, or is he fearful? Men often have difficulties expressing themselves. Isaac has always been a little hard for me to read, except when we’re in the bedroom. There, I know his every thought. It was a beautifully crafted two hours. “I hope you had a pleasant flight.”
“Thank you. It was wonderful.” My high shriek reveals my delight at being called Mrs. Holt for the first time. Isaac changed my relationship status on my Facebook page months ago, but this is the first time the title has been used correctly.
I don’t need to see Isaac’s smirk to know it’s etched on his sinfully handsome face. The tightening of his hand around mine is indication enough, not to mention the arrogance beaming out of him. His entire composure exudes to his authority. He’s the alpha male in this realm, and he’s more than aware of it. I just don’t know if what I said is the cause for his egotism or the flight attendant’s acknowledgment that I’m his wife. His pulse exposes it could be a combination of both.
The heat on my cheeks clears away when we descend the jet’s stairs. Callie is jumping in puddles, not the least bit confronted by the sprinkling of rain kinking her hair. Ravenshoe is her hometown, so she’s celebrating her return without concern for the weather.
I understand Callie’s excitement. I grew up in Tiburon, but Ravenshoe is my home. Hugo was right. Home isn’t where you are born, it’s where your family lives. This is my family—even Roger, who doesn’t look impressed the seats of his town car are seconds from being drenched by Callie’s wet bottom. Excluding the mist his eyes held when Isaac recited vows he made up on the spot, Roger has always been a bit of a stiff.
I run my fingers through Callie’s flattened locks as Isaac clasps her into her car seat. She’s melded into our lives so profoundly the past seven months, I can’t remember what it was like before she joined our duo. My private time with Isaac has become more taxing, but Callie nurtured us into two caring, loving people who are honored to be her parents.
Our first kiss as husband and wife was flavored by the salty tears dripping down my face. Callie’s poem… gosh. I’d never heard such beautiful words spoken by an adult much less an almost-four-year-old.
“How are we going to handle that?” I ask Isaac once he joins Callie and me inside his town car.
He drifts his alluring gray eyes from me to the media contingency ready to tail us through the streets of Ravenshoe. He has always had a strong media profile, but it grew more rampant when I was charged with murder.
“I’ll have my media guy draw up a press release.”
My nose screws up. It seems so impersonal to announce our marriage via an official statement. “Can you hold him off a day or two?”
I freeze when I catch Isaac’s angry glare. I’m not panicked. I’m turned on. “You want to keep our marriage quiet?”
“No, not at all.” That was my original plan, but there’s no way I can keep this secret contained. I’m so delighted to be his wife, I’m about ready to shout it from the rooftops.
When I curl my hand around his, I feel Isaac’s jaw throb. The clicking of my wedding ring against my engagement ring weakens its intensity. “I just think we should share the news with our family and friends before we tell the world. You don’t really want your parents finding out you wed by reading an online article, do you?”
“In all honesty, I don’t think my mother would care.” His confirmation isn’t a shock, but it still hurts to hear. “But I’d like to tell Nick and my father. They’re as smitten with you as I am… regrettably, so they’ll be disappointed they missed the ceremony.”
