Over the next several long minutes, I toy with her clit, finger-fuck her, and lap up the goodness dripping from her throbbing pussy. I relentlessly tease her without once letting her get close enough to detonation that she could accidentally topple into oblivion.
It’s a blistering forty minutes that has pre-cum leaking from my cock and my wish to break her on the brink of desperation. I’ve never had a woman so determined to win before, so persistent in their endeavor to be an equal half in our dynamic. It gives credit to my belief that Isabelle is strong enough to stand at my side instead of the two steps behind me like every woman before her. She’s headstrong, but that isn’t necessarily a bad trait, especially when it comes to going against a man as vile as Col Petretti.
I chuckle against the heated skin between Isabelle’s thighs when she mutters under her breath, “Hell, if this is his idea of punishment, I’ll never be good again.”
Doubts hit her hard and fast when I barrage her slicked slit with a bombardment of kisses, licks, and grazing of my teeth. I fuck her with my mouth until she is seconds from climaxing, then I pull back with a smirk.
“No…” Isabelle cries out again, her fists as tightly woven as her body.
I smirk against her heated skin before placing a final lick on her aching clit, then I climb up her spent body to take in her flushed cheeks with more diligence. Her heated expression exposes she is primed and ready to go off, but there’s something far greater than the urge to come beaming from her eyes.
She’s on the doorstep of begging for forgiveness, and I’m more than ready to hear the begs her body is dying to relinquish.
“Not yet,” I murmur when she raises her ass off the sticky mattress to grind herself against my twitching cock.
I am a powerful man, but there are a handful of things not even a man as controlled as me can curb. Dominating Isabelle is one of my extremely limited neuroses.
My jaw tightens when Isabelle’s last show of defiance sees her refusing my attempt to reacquaint our lips. She snaps her mouth shut before she slants her head to the side. When the dampness between her legs deepens from my chuckle about her frustrated huff, I slide my hand up her sweat-slicked body, stopping when I reach her thrusting chest. I tweak her nipple, rolling it with such expertise that within seconds, her mouth pops open to accept my tongue.
While returning my kiss with a sense of urgency, Isabelle weaves her fingers through my hair. She holds my mouth hostage to hers as she rocks her hips upward, seeking firmer contact between her clit and my cock’s crown.
“Not yet,” I murmur again after pulling back.
When I inch back far enough for Isabelle to realize she isn’t the only one suffering through my insatiable need to govern all aspects of her life, a brilliant idea pops into my head. She said an hour ago that nothing could compete with my cock, so why did it take me this long to give him the chance to prove her right?
Once I’ve snagged a condom out of the bedside table, I rip it open with my teeth before rolling the rubber matter down my twitching shaft. I’m so hard, the enforced ring at the end acts like a cock ring. It is a snug fit, but it has nothing on the tightness I’m confronted with when I raise Isabelle’s ass from the mattress so I can slowly sink inside her.
A growl rumbles in my chest when she swivels her hips, welcoming an intrusion that would have to hurt. I take it slow, unwilling to hurt her even with my arrogance at an all-time high.
Once she’s fully hilted, I ignore the desires clouding my perception by keeping my hips perfectly still.
Let me tell you, it is a fucking hard feat.
I fought for everything I have. Bloodied and bare knuckles are what gained me the capital to start my empire, but right now, this is by far the toughest battle I’ve experienced to date.
Mercifully, within a second of pinning Isabelle’s hips to the mattress, the words I commenced seeking an hour ago spill from her mouth. “Please…”
I take a moment to relish the seductiveness of that one word leaving those pouty lips before I withdraw my cock to the tip. During my retreat, Isabelle’s pussy sucks at me, begging me to stay.
It would be cruel not to answer its pleas, especially since it was responsible for Isabelle’s slip.
Isabelle and I moan in sync when I slam back into her. I take her to the very root of my cock before stilling my hips for the second time.
Her frustrated grunt exposes this is now more a game of endurance than determination.
“I’m not going to beg,” Isabelle snarls through gritted teeth, her voice brimming with unbridled anger and an emotion I’m certain is vulnerability.
“Yeah, you are,” I argue back, certain this won’t be the first battle we will face as I grapple for control. My fierce reputation will keep her safe far better than the millions of dollars in my bank account. I just need her to entrust herself fully to me—both in the bedroom and outside of it as well.
Before a single denial in Isabelle’s dilated gaze can seep from her lips, I roll my hips. Isabelle arches her back when the crown of my cock rubs the sweet spot inside her. It sends a pleasing jolt from the roots of my hair to my balls, but the spasm has nothing on the euphoria that congeals my blood when pleas fall from Isabelle’s mouth so fast they barely make any sense.
She tells me she’s sorry, that neither her kiss with Ryan nor Brandon meant anything, and they were merely tactics to get back at me.
Her begs for forgiveness are already lyrical gold to my ears, so you can picture how swollen my chest becomes when she promises not to do it again.
“I’ll never want anyone but you. You are more than I will ever need.”
Needing to distract myself before her words burrow into a place in my chest I assumed died years ago, I mutter, “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” before increasing the tempo of my pumps.
