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“You didn’t know what would happen, Isla. You were doing what you thought was best, what Cynthia had asked you to do. You did everything right. You can’t control what happened. That’s not fair to blame yourself. You survived. You got yourself out of there and you lived, and I bet Cynthia would be so damn proud of you,” I tell her, pulling her into my embrace.
I feel her wet tears fall on my back before she can wipe them away. “I think she would be… but I just can’t move past the guilt,” she says. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.”
Her words make me want to try to help ease that pain and guilt for the rest of my life.
Thirty
Bordeaux
Metanoia (n.) the journey of changing
one’s mind, heart, self, or way of life.
___________
Time slowed after Isla told me the story about her from her childhood, and not long after, we left the studio. I wasn’t expecting something like that to spill from her beautiful mouth. I’ve always known her to be tough, relentless, and feisty, but I didn’t think about what could have made her that way. Now, I think I know that this traumatic event probably played a pretty strong part in shaping her personality.
“This place is beautiful, B.” Isla does a 360, looking around my penthouse in awe. “Is this where you bring all your girls?” She laughs but I ignore her question. I don’t ever want to think about another woman again.
I kick my Converses off and reach out for her hand. “Come take a bath with me. We need to wash off all that sinful behavior from the recording studio.”
“If that was sinning, I’ll gladly go to hell with you,” she says, and my dick hardens in my pants all over again.
We make our way into my bathroom, and I watch as her eyes go from wide to wider. She takes in the vaulted ceiling, pristine black tiles, and oversized shower. It was something I knew I wanted when I chose this place. I have multiple shower heads, and a black marble clawfoot bathtub enclosed in the larger-than-life glass shower. Sitting parallel to the enclosed shower and tub is a grand fireplace with a mirror over it. When I was a kid, I wouldn’t have ever even been able to dream about something like this bathroom.
Isla’s eyes fall on the fireplace. “I’ve never seen a fireplace in a bathroom before.”
“That’s because you’ve never seen my bathroom,” I tell her, turning her around to face me. “I’m going to undress you now, sugar.”
She looks up at me with a glimmer in her eye as she nods, grazing her tongue against her bottom lip like she’s about to devour me. Little does she know, I’m the one who does all the devouring around here.
I slide her shirt over her head, revealing her flawless, full breasts. Her light pink nipples are hard, and I resist the urge to take one of them into my mouth as I run my hands over them. Isla steps closer to me, reaching for my pants, clearly needing me the way I need her, even though it hasn’t been long since I was inside of her.
“Not yet, baby,” I tell her, stepping backward and away from her, relishing the look in her eyes—pure, desperate longing. My own feelings rival hers. It’s the first time I’m feeling these things, but it doesn’t seem strange to me. It feels right. And I try not to think too much about it because I don’t need to decipher my brain right now. I am so unbelievably into this woman standing before me. The rush, the feelings I have with her that I had while inside of her... fucking unreal. I haven’t ever fucked a woman and wanted more but with her, I do. I want all of her.
I reach out toward her and slide her jeans and panties down until she’s bare, dropping to my knees in front of her, for her. I want to taste her again. I want the high that comes with burying my face inside her. Goosebumps line the skin on her inner-thigh and I run my finger gently along each one, forming a trail as I work my way toward her center. She is the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with, that I have ever tasted, and one taste of her wasn’t enough to satiate me.
I plunge my face into her, running my tongue up and down and inside her, my thumb working tandem on her clit as she grasps my head, pulling my face closer into her. Fuck, I love that. I give her what she wants; I plummet my tongue farther inside of her as she moans my name. My name on her lips is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. She bucks her hips into me, and I pick up my pace as her muscles clench. I pause, breathless, rising back to my feet as she grabs at me.
“Why’d you stop? You can’t just stop,” she whines, rolling her head back, and I laugh. It’s fucking cute. She presses into me, grabbing my hand and guiding it back toward her core. “Please.” Isla looks at me with fire in her eyes as I lift my shirt over my head and unbutton my jeans, stepping out of them.
“Please what, baby?” I taunt her, knowing what she wants and wanting to give it to her, right here, right now. She doesn’t know this, but it’s fucking killing me to not just grab her and have her again. Drawing this out, taking it slow and teasing the both of us is killing me. But I love it.
She makes a move for my cock; it’s hard, fully ready for her again. Her palm is on me, fingers wrapping around my girth before I can stop her. Fuck, her skin on mine is goddamn sinful. I resist the urge to lean into her, to let her have me like this.
Because I’m taking her. And she’s going to watch me do it.
She sinks to her knees and slips a hair tie off her wrist, bunching her hair up with her hands.
“No,” I tell her, taking her hand in mine and helping her back up. “Leave your hair down. I like it down. And you aren’t doing that right now. First, I’m going to fuck you again. I’m going to fill every single inch of your pussy, and you’re going to watch me do it.”
She gasps as I spin her around to face one of the floor-length mirrors on either side of the fireplace. I stand behind her, our naked reflections in front of us. Bending, I kiss her neck, sucking and pulling her skin between my teeth with just enough force to make her squirm. As I come back up for air, she relaxes against me, her back to my front.
“Watch, baby.” My lips are against her ear as I wrap both arms around her and roam over her breasts. She lets her head fall backward against my chest, her breath picking up pace. “Is this what you like?” I ask as she moans for me, nodding. “Tell me.”
“I love feeling you in this way, B,” she says, her eyes closing, her chest heaving against my touch.
“Keep your eyes open, sugar,” I groan out, slowly sliding my hands down her toned stomach, stopping just before I reach her center. Her eyes are trained on where my hands sit, her mouth sitting slightly open, those beautiful lips teasing me. I can’t wait to feel them on my cock, but right now, I want this more.
