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I feel my chest ache as I realize how much I misjudged him when we first met. His heart is pure and even if his past has twisted him into a man filled with darkness, that remains the case. He can show this woman he barely knows compassion, and despite being a mob boss and criminal like my father, he’s a hundred times better man than he ever was.
Jane is a mess when he finally releases her from the hug, and he calls Cathal over, speaking to him in hushed tones.
Cathal nods once he’s finished speaking and ushers Jane to him. “Come on, we’re going to get you help,” he says.
Isiah turns to me then, eyes brighter than I’ve ever seen before. “It’s over, love.”
I feel those words deep as he’s right. His feud is over, but our life together is only just beginning. “I meant what I said earlier.”
His jaw clenches. “I’m not sure how you feel that way about me.”
I laugh. “Honestly, neither am I after all the shit you’ve done.”
He chuckles and then takes my hand, looking into my eyes. “Come on, love, let’s find somewhere private so I can show you just how much you mean to me,” he murmurs.
I swallow hard, wondering if there’s something wrong with me for wanting to agree, knowing what Isiah just did to my dad. And yet, I can’t find it in me to refuse, instead I nod.
He leads me up the stairs of the country club as we search for a bedroom, my heart thumping wildly in anticipation.
Once we get to a room, he nods to the bed. “Wait for me there. I need to get cleaned up.”
I shake my head. “No, I’ll help you,” I say simply.
His throat bobs as he swallows, but he doesn’t refuse as we both enter the bathroom. He takes off his shirt then and I grab a flannel off the shelf and douse it with water.
“Are you sure about this?”
I can see the turmoil in his eyes as he thinks it’s hard for me to help him clean my own father’s blood from his skin, but the fact is, I’m glad he’s dead. And, I want to help him heal from this, as I know getting his revenge was just the start. He’s harbored so much hate and anger, I sense he’s never really stopped and grieved the death of his brother.
Slowly, I start to wipe away the blood from his arm with a damp rag. My hands run across every line of definition in his body as if I’m trying to memorize them by touch alone—each scar, every muscle.
I take my time, exploring him and teasing him as I notice his jaw clench as if he’s holding himself back from devouring me. It makes me feel more powerful than I’ve ever felt. Lastly, I clean his face and then dump the bloodied flannel into the sink, moving around him to wash my hands.
Isiah grabs me suddenly, yanking me against his powerful body. “I love you, Bella,” he breathes, the raspy quality of his voice sends shivers down my spine.
“I love you, too,” I murmur. My heart races, my breath hitching as I gaze into the depths of his brilliant blue eyes. He leans in, his hot breath skating across my lips for a moment before he brings them against mine. Heat explodes through my body the moment he kisses me. His fingers lace through my hair, pulling me closer with each passing moment.
“I need you,” he says raggedly against my mouth, his grip on me tightening.
A thrill runs through me at his words. “What are you waiting for? Fuck me, Isiah.”
He growls, the beast that I have grown to crave surfaces as he effortlessly lifts me onto the bathroom countertop.
His gaze never leaves mine as he pulls off my shirt. “You are so fucking beautiful, Bella,” he says, eyes moving now from my face and down to my breasts. Before I can say a word, he moves forward and his lips descend on my neck as he kisses me softly, moving lower with each kiss. The sensation of his touch ignites fire inside me as he explores my body with his hands and tongue. His fingertips softly dance around my sensitive nipples, drawing out a moan from deep within me. Everywhere he touches ignites a fire spreading throughout my veins.
“That’s right, Bella, moan for me,” he purrs.
I shudder as he kisses lower, his tongue and lips moving down my stomach. Once he gets to the belt of my skirt, he hikes the hem up and meets my gaze, a hungry glint in his eyes.
“Tell me what you want.”
My mouth goes dry. “I want you,” I say.
He smirks. “Do you want me to eat your dripping wet cunt?”
I swallow hard and nod.
“Let me hear you say it,” he demands.
