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I’ve had sex for the sake of sex, and there were times when making love had dismally turned into a burden—expectations and imminent judgment raining down on me like it was a contest. But with Isabelle, everything is natural and effortless, and what I’ve been granting her comes from the deepest part of me.
“Clayton…”
That’s the voice of a woman begging for a climax—it’s agonizing and incredibly arousing. I’m going to give it to her, and I’m going to ride it with her.
She lifts her head, reaching for my lips. I place my hand on the back of her head, pushing her to me. My fingers interlace with her wet yet bountiful hair. It’s as if I can grasp her femininity in my hands, like silk yarns waiting to be weaved. Smooth. Lustrous. Seductive.
I glide as deep as I can, driving her to gasp. Her eyes are fixed on me, connecting to mine. I’ve never seen a woman so lost in pleasure. Her blue eyes sparkle sharply. Her hold on me is unabating. I can feel her orgasm unleashes itself as if it was mine.
“Isabelle…” This time I moan her name as I come. My body shudders, releasing more of me into her.
I collapse, my heart walloping behind my ribcage, my elbows barely supporting myself. My head falls next to her. For a few moments, I lie still, puffing right under her ear as pleasure courses through my body.
Slowly I roll off her, discreetly discarding the well-filled condom. I never mind condoms, but with her, I wish I didn’t have to use them.
I lie sideways, pushing myself against her because I don’t want to lose contact. In return, she angles herself toward me, burying her face in my pecs, rubbing her pelvis gently against my softening cock.
I run my fingers along her spine, the tips feeling her shivers.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I murmur.
She’s sobering up, but her pleasurable gaze is still evident. She lifts her arm sluggishly as if she barely has enough energy. Her hand lands on my cheek, and I angle my face to kiss it.
Now I realize she’s not completely naked. I stripped her off her clothes and earrings, but something still clings to her.
I play with her jade bracelet.
I don’t mind it a bit. That bracelet is part of her, and she looks intriguingly sexy wearing only that.
“You said this was from your mom?” My voice is so hoarse it’s barely audible.
“Yeah. Her nickname was Jade because she had green eyes,” she replies. “This bracelet was a gift from my dad to her for their first wedding anniversary. Just before she passed away, she gave it to me.”
“So you’ve got your blue eyes from your dad?”
“Yes. It’s not very common for a Latina, I know. But hey, Latin genes are the most diverse.”
I stretch my arm, reaching for a blanket folded on the side of the fireplace. I spread it across the both of us.
“So, Clayton Hartley, now that we’ve got to know each other’s bodies, I want to know aboutyou.”
I chuckle. “What do you want to know about me?”
“What do you do? I mean, I know about your extravagant yachts, but what do you do exactly?”
I stretch and lie flat on my back, inviting her to come to me. She crawls and lays herself on my chest.
I explain, “Well, my formal title is Chief Operating Officer. But I do all sorts, really, and so does Rob. I do a lot of testing, I guess.”
“You test drive your yachts?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Raffi actually brought up a good point. Your job is very different from your Air Force career?”
“In a way, yes. However, the technology isn’t that much different, whether you’re in the air or on water. Like the radar systems, for example. I’ll take you to the HQ sometime.”
She grins at me. “What else do you do?”
