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Isabella starts moaning my name and pulling against her restraints.
I know she wants to feel closer to me, to run her fingers over my skin, but I need her at my mercy.
Because I want her to understand what we have between us.
She needs to see that our bond is unbreakable and that even in her darkest hour, I’m not going anywhere.
I worship Isabella with my tongue, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. She tries to wrap her legs around my head, but I stop my movements. When I pull back to give her a pointed look, she is panting, and her mouth is half open. I twitch with the urge to bury myself in her.
To give us both the release we so desperately need.
But I know it’s too soon.
She can’t find her release, not yet. Not until I’ve chased away the shadows in her eyes and made her forget about everything outside that door. I tug on her restraints and make them tighter, smiling at her little hiss of pain. Then, I lower myself back onto the mattress and bury my head in between her legs. She tastes fantastic, a strange mixture of sweet and sour that has the blood roaring in my veins.
I don’t know how much longer I can wait, especially when she’s begging me now.
I love hearing the filthy things she’s telling me.
And I love that she adds a “sir” to the end of every sentence, with a moan that makes me plunge my tongue in further. Once Isabella crawls closer to the edge of release, I stop and kiss her. I kiss her thoroughly, letting her taste herself on my tongue. When I bite down on her bottom lip, she whimpers, and I taste her blood. Then I bury my head in her neck, and I press hot kisses there.
I wait until some of the haze of desire clears, and I undo her restraints.
Isabella is staring at the ceiling and panting, a slight furrow between her brows.
I hoist her up and set her down on a chair I’ve pulled out. After giving her another searing kiss, during which she tries to deepen it, I step back. She watches me through hooded eyes as I pull her back to her feet. I am impatient and eager as I tie her hands to the back of the chair so her back is facing me, and she’s on all fours and entirely at my mercy.
“I want to see you.”
I slap her ass. “Don’t forget who’s in charge here, dove. I’m the one who gets to call the shots.”
Isabella whimpers and twists her head to face me. I push her head back to the front and step out of my boxers. Quickly and with a little more impatience than usual, I rummage through the drawer and pull out a toy. Isabella is dripping wet and muttering to herself when I return. As soon as I insert the toy between her legs, she jerks.
“What is that?”
I press my mouth to her ear, and she shivers. “Relax and enjoy.”
She rocks back and forth against the toy, eager for more friction, and I touch myself. I move my fingers up and down my cock steadily, already eager for the feel of her mouth wrapped around my center. Isabella’s entire body shakes as her orgasm rips through her, and she cries out. I don’t wait for her to catch her breath when I remove the toy and position myself behind her.
In one quick thrust, I am inside of her.
I thrust in further, filling her all the way to the hilt.
Isabella wriggles and tries to take more of me. “Please, Carter.Please.”
I place my hands on her back and ease out. “That’s not my name.”
“Please, sir,” Isabella begs breathlessly. “I need you.”
I slam back into her. “How much do you need me?”
“More than anything,” Isabella gasps out. “I need you to fuck me, sir.”
I continue to ease in and out of her, building up momentum. I picture myself fucking away the memory of Donahue and any other men who’s ever laid hands on her. Then I see myself fucking away her pain and all the hurt she’s feeling because of the Lilian situation.
Suddenly, I am moving with uncontrolled abandon, her walls clenching around me and the sweet smell of her wafting up my nostrils. Isabella meets each thrust with one of her own, and I am no longer surprised by her appetite, by her endless desire for me.
Because I know it doesn’t compare to mine.
