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Need to distract myself. Need to forget about all that shit. I suck on her nipples, and let my hands relish the curves of her body.
“We should… I should… Leo…”
Her tits are more sensitive now and her whimpers of pleasure are devastatingly beautiful.
Isabella’s hands tug at my hair and her hips rub against my belly.
“Need a taste,” I huff against her skin, then work kisses down her body.
She says nothing until I’m probing my tongue between the pink petals between her legs. “Oh God.”
Her taste is amazing. Tangy and sweet and all Isabella.
“So good, Rex, so good,” she strains as I circle her clit with my tongue.
I’m trying to keep myself distracted. Trying to keep my mind fixated on Isabella, rather than all the speculations of the rest of the world. Fuck the photos, the TikToks, the rumors.
What is true is that I am intent on making Isabella mine. Whatever story the world wants to tell is up to them.
The only story I care about is ours.
“I’m already –” Her hips buck into my face. “I’m already going to – going to –”
I rumble my lips against hers and then she’s cresting, more of her sweet nectar in my mouth, the contractions of her orgasm echoing against my lips.
And her sounds…
A torrent of aural pleasure.
I pull my mouth away from her once her body has gone boneless in the sheets. “Did you come?” I ask jokingly because I’m quite certain she came.
Isabella drops her hand on her face, chest heaving. “What the fuck, Rex?”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I reply, then wipe her off my chin with the back of my hand.
I lay next to her, enjoying the sounds of her breath.
Isabella touches my face. “Everything okay with Mickey?”
My insides twist. “Yeah. Fine.”
“Sounded kind of intense… from what I could hear while I was peeing.”
Isabella can’t know about the rumors. And she can’t know about the upcoming tour. I’ll keep her occupied every moment of the day in order to keep her from finding out. I kiss her temple. “Nothing important.”
Definitely not as important as being here.
Chapter 14
Isabella
I walk into Leo’s bedroom and immediately collapse on the end of his bed.
Leo laughs. “Mama, this isn’t your bed!”
I glance at my son. He’s sitting at the head of the bed, already under the covers, washed and clothed in his pajamas. “You wouldn’t let Mama share with you?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’m a big boy.”
