“Eyes,” I demand again when her erotic scent strengthens a mere second before the walls of her vagina clamp around my finger.
It takes everything she has to drag her eyes away from my fisted cock, but when she does, her fall into ecstasy is fast and brutal. Her cheeks flush, and her eyes roll into the back of her head as she gives in to the sensation burning her alive.
And I’m there for every single moment of it.
“Not yet,” I murmur against her drenched skin while making my way up her spent body still covered from the waist up. She’s exhausted, but I’m far from done with her. “I said you’d have no doubt when you were fucked by me. I plan to keep my word.”
When I scoop her into my arms and march out of the kitchen, her giggles bounce throughout my home until they’re gobbled up by the steaming hot water pumping out of the showerhead. I intend to pamper her, but within minutes, I’m on my knees, combatting the deluge of water pumping out of the rain-inspired gadget, desperate for a second helping of dessert. Then, after coercing Isabelle into another toe-curling orgasm, we make our way to my room so the real festivities can begin.
43
Isquash my phone close to my ear before spinning to face the arched window of my office. My muscles are aching, you’d swear I had run a marathon, but I exert them even more when I recall why I am so weary.
Isabelle returned my love of sex. I couldn’t get enough last night, and even when an exhausting day should have been demanding sleep, I explored her body for hours upon hours. We’re only apart now because Isabelle was so exhausted she collapsed in my arms, and despite my wish to shut out the world for a few more hours, there are only so many calls I can silence before someone eventually comes looking for me.
Since I’d rather that not occur until Monday morning at the earliest, I untangled myself from Isabelle’s luscious naked body and headed to my office, where I spent the past two hours combing through acquisitions like my next big purchase isn’t a child.
“Is Albert requesting a meeting with all bidders or just me?”
Regan sighs down the line, her unease felt even from Texas. “They’re stating it is all bidders, but I’m skeptical. Pushing requests like this is out of the ordinary. Vladimir doesn’t care who purchases his daughter as long as they pay in cash.” She pauses long enough for my teeth to grit before finishing, “I’m worried about this, Isaac. Something feels off, but—”
“If we deny their request, they’ll deny my bidding application.” The whoosh of Regan’s head bob sounds down the line. “Then organize the meeting.”
“Isaac—” My growl cuts her off a mere second before a ping on my phone advises I have another caller. “I’ll get back to you when I have further details.”
I grunt in thanks before disconnecting our call and connecting another. “Henry,” I greet.
He startles from my abrupt tone before getting down to business. “We can’t secure Jacob a fight without substantial funding.”
Over the next twenty minutes, he updates me on the numerous meetings he’s had with UFC officials since we last spoke. With none of their concerns warranted, it is a frustrating twenty minutes that could be better spent on the woman I sense watching me from afar.
Isabelle is awake, and it is more than my cock paying attention to this. Something deep inside me awakens when I swivel back around to face her. She’s wearing one of my blue dress shirts. The sleeves are rolled up to the middle of her arm, and the hem is teasingly floating against her silky thighs. She looks ravishing, although also somewhat exhausted.
“Isaac…” Henry murmurs. “Are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here,” I snap out, my tone as high strung as the vein in Isabelle’s neck about my brutish tone. She isn’t panicked by it like Henry, nor does she want to bring it to heel.
She wants to be consumed by it.
After gesturing for Isabelle to join me in my office, I divert my focus back to whatever Henry is jabbering in my ear. When I pull Isabelle down to sit on my lap, I enter my toughest fight to date. She isn’t wearing any panties, and no amount of protocol and rules can deter my deviant mind from that fact.
“Personal uncertainties should never enter a contractual negotiation. They either play by the rules or relinquish them entirely. They can’t play both sides of the field.”
“That isn’t what they’re doing,” Henry argues. “For Jacob’s fight to be a charity match, no funds can be contributed by the UFC to subsidiaries of the UFC.”
“So, in other words, The Constrictor is requesting payment for participation?”
“Yes,” Henry agrees without pause for thought. “And he wants double the amount cited.”
“Of course, he does,” I mutter under my breath. “He knows he won’t win, so he needs to pocket as much from this fight as he can.”
Needing to calm down before I get as worked up as Henry sounds, I slip my hand under Isabelle’s shirt to tweak her nipple. I have it standing to attention before Henry delivers a solution as worthless as tap water. “We could go with another fighter.”
“I want him.”
“Then you need to be willing to negotiate. How much are you willing to spend?”
“Henry, enough stalling. I don’t care what it costs, just get it done.”
