The Heir (The King Dynasty #1)

22. Do I?

Chapter twenty-two

Do I?

G od, the absolute look of shock and hatred on Christopher's face when he got a taste of his own medicine, while I was busy getting a taste of my wife, is going to live rent free in my head for a long motherfucking time.

I love when people get their just desserts.

The sky opens up right as we're walking out of King Dynasty, matching my sudden mood. Concerned for her hair, I whip off my suit jacket and hold it over her head as we rush to the car where Gustavo opens the door, allowing us to slide in smoothly.

"Oh my gosh," Isobel breathes, attempting to smooth down her hair. I readjust myself in my seat, still sporting a chubby from earlier. The woman gives amazing mouth service, and I can't wait to have her lips around me again. The sight of her covered in my cum is permanently forever seared in my brain.

"Where to?" I ask .

Taking my cell out I quickly check my emails seeing nothing of importance, other than a text from Teresa.

Hey Henny, just wanted to let you know that I'm in labor! Brad will text you when it's time to come to the hospital. It's still early so it probably won't be for another couple days. You're gunna be an Uncle! -Tee

"Shniedenhorst on grand," she says, still faffing with her hair.

"Baby, you look fine. Stop worrying."

"But is some of it curly and some of it not?" She runs her hands through the strands repeatedly. "Because some will look crazy and then the others will be straight and I don't like that."

I chuckle. "Turn so I can see." I look over, pulling her hair over her shoulder, using the action as an excuse to rub my hand down her breast where I give her a cheeky squeeze making her laugh and shrug me off. She throws a shy glance towards Dennis who, as usual, is studiously not paying attention to us.

Good, I pay him well enough that it shouldn't be that hard.

She stares out the window, and I take a second to text my sister back, speaking to Isobel as I do so.

Tee, let me know the second you're supposed to push. Uncle Henny wants to be there to welcome baby Vi. I already have her present, I got her a villa in Italy. -Henny

"Teresa's in labor," I inform her as I text, feeling more than seeing Isobel's head snap to look at me.

"Oh yeah? Is it time?"

"Mhmm." I put my phone away, reaching over to thread our fingers together. "It's time. She was about ready to pop, she went almost a week past her due date. "

I'm suddenly hit by visions of Isobel pregnant with my child. I swallow hard, tasting copper. Realizing I've bitten my cheek so hard I've broken the skin.

Isobel twists her lips before glancing away. But not before I see the flush on her cheeks.

"So, do you think you'd ever want a baby, or two?" I ask, grasping for nonchalantness.

What the fuck am I thinking?

She won't even tell me she loves me, so why am I bringing this up?

Isobel freezes, and her fingers tighten against mine for the briefest second before she catches herself and relaxes. "I've thought about it before," she says, in a strained tone, but she doesn't elaborate.

My chest tightens as we pull up to the curb and idle. As the rain pounds down on the car, I patiently wait for her to reciprocate my question. She doesn't, causing my mood to sour further than what it already is. Honestly, I don't exercise this kind of restraint with anybody -ever- and I consider going ahead and bringing up how upset this makes me, but all too soon Dennis is opening the door, and we're out in the rain with me holding my jacket over her hair again.

We enter the restaurant in silence.

Running a hand through my now damp hair, I instruct Gustavo to find a seat at the bar and let us have some normal time with Isobel's friends.

To be honest, I don't want to be doing this.

I want her home, where I can spread her out and finish what we started in her office.

But I gleaned this would make her happy, and I need her happy. Because it might soften her up enough for her to give me what I need. Irritated with the almost manic need to possess this woman, I beat back my feelings of discontent and put my hand in hers, giving her a smile that I don't feel when she peeks up at me from beneath her lashes.

I'm restless. And I'm not a nice man when I'm restless.

We're led to the back room where her friends have been sat in a private area. "I hope you don't mind," Isobel whispers to me. "I used your name thinking you'd like the privacy. I saw when we were at the restaurant when I was out with Anna that you were in a private room, and I figured you didn't want to dine out in the open."

I clear my throat. "Our name," I correct her as she waves her hand at her friends, giving them a bright smile. "Hey," I snap, stopping her from advancing just inside the doorway. "Look at me, please."

Isobel turns surprised eyes on me before they flit to my hand on her elbow where I grip her tightly because I feel desperate.

I have no clue what's going on with me, but I've felt off center all day. I don't know if it's me crashing from my power trip with her ex, the blow job in her office which I honestly feel like might have changed my life, or the fact that she seems like vapor, ready to disappear into thin air at the merest whisper of wind.

Never having been mine.

"King, what is it?" she asks, her hazel eyes flickering back and forth between mine.

Raising a hand to her jaw I caress her gently, taking a second to gaze into her eyes. Not caring about the dozens of people in the room to the side of us, or her friends waiting.

No, my soul is currently calling out for her.

Can't she hear it?

Isobel places her hand on my cheek and stands up on her tiptoes, giving me a brief, sweet kiss that does nothing to calm me. Instead, it ramps up this desperation inside of me that needs to possess her in all her entirety. Her mouth wasn't enough .

"You okay?"

I clear my throat as my hand falls away from her face. "Yes. I just needed that connection for a moment."

Isobel throws me a shy smile, making me warm all over, before pulling me into the room, and I hear myself making pleasantries with her friends almost like I'm talking to them through a tunnel. I feel separated from them, like I'm watching the interaction from above.

I shake hands with them: Tiffany and Jeremiah, Brittany and Alex. I sit back. Make pleasantries. Ask about their jobs, enquire about Tiffany's children.

Nod sympathetically when we're told that Brittany's latest round of IVF failed.

"Hey, is that a wedding ring you're wearing?" Brittany asks, leaning in and narrowing her eyes at my band, before looking over at Isobel's hand curiously. As do I. And it's just now I notice hers is missing.

My eyes narrow.

"Where the hell is your ring?" Leaning into her ear, I speak quietly, feeling her stiffen.

"I didn't know how to tell them, King," she whispers back. "What am I supposed to tell them?"

"I don't give two shits what they think, put it on. Now."

"What do I tell them when they ask me?" She looks at me nervously, her hazel eyes dilating.

"Nothing. Be silent about it if it matters that much to you," I grit out angrily, feeling my temper rise to the surface. Isobel's eyes go wide before she averts her face and pulls her purse to her, digging around until she finds it and slips it on. My chest loosens instantly.

Why am I so irritable?

Tiffany gasps first as Isobel's freshly jeweled hand comes into view. "Izzy, did you two get married? "

Isobel blushes and shrugs one shoulder delicately, leaning her face over to rub her cheek against it in a timid movement that catches me off guard. Where's my little demon, and who is this shy woman?

"We did," I answer for her, placing my hand on Isobel's back possessively.

"Yeah…" Isobel trails off, not bothering to elaborate. The table goes silent in shock, just staring at us as Isobel takes a sip of her drink. I stay quiet as well.

"What on earth? I've heard of whirlwind romances…. but wow." Brittany leans forward and whispers across the table as if we aren't the only ones in the area. "Were y'all..." Her eyes flick pointedly between me and Isobel, who stiffens and throws her friend an offended look.

It takes an immense amount of effort on my part to stay silent. Seriously, why is this any of their business? Even if we were, Christopher was stepping out fucking around first.

"No, I'm not a cheater. You know that Tiff."

Everyone falls quiet before her friends all look at me. I take a sip of my whiskey and keep my eyes on my glass, preferring to show restraint. Because these people saw me lose my mind on her ex at that art showing.

They're privy to a piece of me I'd rather not have been visible.

"Love is a funny thing, isn't it?" Brittany's husband Jeremiah speaks up while giving me an appreciative look. "You can be with someone for two years and nothing comes of it. No sparks, no fireworks. You just find yourself settling. And suddenly someone comes into your life that sets your world off axis and alters your spirit forever. I one hundred percent know what that feels like." He turns, giving his wife a loving look before she flushes and smiles at him.

"I love you so much," Brittany breathes, leaning in to nuzzle her husband before they share a slow lingering kiss .

"I love you too, Briberry," he says.

My eyes sting as I observe their interaction, and my fingers falter from where I was tapping the table restlessly.

My gaze slides to Isobel. She stares at the table with a melancholy expression, and I wonder for the dozenth time if she will ever tell me she loves me. I feel like she does… my very soul knows and recognizes her as mine.

But she won't tell me.

My throat burns with unshed tears at her obvious rejection. Fuck.

Isobel blushes and squirms in her seat before looking over and seeing Tiffany and Jeremiah staring at each other with a little secret expression on their face before she pushes back in her seat back and stands up abruptly.

"Excuse me," she murmurs, turning swiftly.

Looking over I catch Gustavo's eye, who follows her discretely to the ladies room.

"So Hendrix," Alex pulls my attention away from my wife, who I truly hope isn't crying in the bathroom. I fight the urge to go find her and make sure she's okay. However, I'm sure she'd like to have privacy in the restroom, and don't want to come across overbearing, despite our circumstances. "I heard you had a hand in building the soccer stadium downtown. Is that true?"

"Well, yes and no. I had a direct hand in the development, and the design."

"That's cool. I used to play. Not professionally or anything, but I dabbled when I was in college."

I nod. "Never played soccer. Polo was my thing."

Jeremiah leans in and pins me with a look. "Bro, you can ride a horse and swing a mallet without killing yourself? Mad respect!" The table breaks off into laughter and I chuckle too, feeling a camaraderie with them that I'm not used to outside of my interactions with Micah.

"I hope this doesn't come across as offensive, but I looked you up, King, and your business is quite prolific. You've really created quite the empire for yourself!" Tiffany speaks up with a smile, taking a big sip of her drink and giving me excited, wide eyes. "And your work, oh my gosh. Top freaking notch ! That building on thirty-fifth street is to die for! I mean, it is gorgeous! What's it like to be able to just, create like that? I ask Isobel her decorating process and can never get a clear answer. You creatives are so interesting."

I laugh, liking her energy. "It's a shit ton of math." I take a sip of my whiskey, debating on going to find my wife. However, Isobel walks back through the door. Her eyes are slightly red around the lids, betraying she was, in fact, crying. As she settles into her seat I pull her into me. "You okay, baby? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, maybe it's my time of the month coming. I don't know." She refuses to meet my gaze, causing my discomfort to increase. Something's going on with her, something I can't place. I'm not sure how hard I want to push her, though.

My eyes narrow at her words. I don't think that's it.

Why is she lying to me when all I want is the truth?

We finish our dinner, and after an hour and a half we walk out of the building, climb back into our car, and headed home. A bit later, we walk into the house, making it halfway down the hallway before I finally snap at how silent she's been, and wanting to navigate this fucking chasm between us that I can't figure out.

"Isobel, stop. Talk to me! What's wrong?" I try to grab her hand but she evades me, folding her arms and curling in on herself.

I know I haven't had her in my house long enough to know all of her mannerisms, but instinctively I know something is off with her .

"Nothing's wrong. I want a bath is all," she retorts, facing forward and keeping herself from meeting my eyes.

She says it's nothing, but her steps are too hurried, and I don't like how she's trying to avoid holding my hand. I know I've been off since we left King Dynasty headquarters, but she's been off since the restaurant. Something's not adding up. We're floundering, and it's pissing me off.

Making my blood run so hot that I'm suddenly afraid I might not have a tight enough grasp on my control.

"Isobel, tell me the truth."

About all of it. What the fuck is going on with you, baby? What's happened?

She suddenly stops, spinning around to face me so fast that I almost crash into her. It's then I see it. There's fear in her eyes, not anger, which makes her next words not sit right with me. Her head snaps to the side to treat me to a filthy look, and I know it's coming: that fucking mouth she can't control.

"You were so out of pocket for having Christopher-"

"Hey!" I snap, my words come out more sternly than I want, but I'm instantly heated as if she'd thrown gasoline on me and blew my ass up. "You say his fucking name in this house again, and I will make you wish you'd never met that man."

"-watch us… King," she finishes slowly.

Because she can't shut up. Except for when I want her to tell me what I need to hear, then she's magically silent.

Isobel scrunches her nose, narrowing her eyes at me as I begin walking into her. She takes a step back, the rug in the hallway muffling the sound of her heels. I'm on her, invading her space, making her take another step, then another, and another. Until we're in a chase of our own making. But, she's going to learn that this particular cat always catches his mouse.

A muscle ticks in my jaw as her words strike a chord inside of me. "Maybe. But it's what I wanted."

Her lips part, scandalized at my audacity. "And you always get what you want, huh?"

"And so what if I do?" We make our way slowly down the hallway and I relish her acquiescence as we go along. "Are you really mad at me about your fuck up of an ex?"

"No." She shakes her head.

"Then what is it? Because something is off with you, and I want an answer."

"I don't have to share with you if I don't want to, King!"

"I suggest you do, Izzy."

She scoffs. "Again, you're not happy because I won't give you what you want. Well get over it , because you aren't always going to get what you want when it comes to me."

The little demon arches a defiant eyebrow at me.

Currently we're slowly backing through a doorway into my secondary study. I don't stop, following her through into the semi-lit space. A singular beam from the moon is our only light as we enter into the area that houses a couch, a chair, and inlaid bookshelves throughout the entire room.

"Always, little demon. I always get what I want in the end."

She rolls her plump lips before biting them, bumping into the desk that she quickly sidesteps in a impressively nimble move. The slight interruption causes me to gain another foot. "Well that's so very arrogant of you."

"Hmm-hmm, but you already know I'm an arrogant motherfucker… this isn't new information." My head tilts as my body tightens .

Currently I'm cloaked in darkness, but I slowly bring a foot forward into the moonlight then stop. It's a funny thing to see when she realizes that she's trapped with her back against the windowpane. Her fleshy breasts are quivering with how hard she's panting, inhaling a deep breath to no doubt calm herself, but it's no use. She won't be calm for long.

I'm about to have her screaming my name all night until her voice is gone.

But I need something first. And if she doesn't give me what I need then screaming will be the least of her worries.

"You-" Her voice catches and she swallows hard. "You told my friends we're married a-and you didn't even ask me."

"I did… and then we both sat there and watched as they openly declared their love and affection for each other, making you so upset, that you had to leave. And when you came back, I could tell you'd been crying." My eyes roam her face greedily, seeing her bite her lip. She looks nervous. Unsure. "Why won't you tell me you love me?" My voice comes out rough as I wait her out.

My breath hitches as every cell in my being cries out for her. Her touch, her scent, just a look from her.

She owns me, and she knows it. Her lips quiver as my eyes stay on hers, but I still won't touch her. Instead, I put an arm above her head against the window, bracketing her in.

"I need to hear it," I grit into her ear, my voice is tortured because I'm dying as my soul bleeds for this woman. "I need to hear it from your lips."

She lets out a whimper, clasping her hands together to stem the trembling that's begun to take over her body, and I stand there eating it up. Every tremor. The silence grows between us, and after a minute, I turn my head slightly in displeasure; the action a clear, deliberate power move that affects her greatly. Leaning down, I run my nose along her temple, my breaths making little tendrils of her hair tickle her face.

"Say it. Why can't you tell me what we both know?"

Isobel flinches at my harsh tone, and in reaction, I harden to the point I wince, seeing the pretty skin of her chest break out into goosebumps. She bites back a moan, letting me know that she's flooded her panties, and I wonder if the wetness slicks down her thighs. As I raise to my full height, my head tilts back, keeping her gaze steady with mine. Still seeing fear.

However, it's not rejection.

And it calms me.

"So stubborn," I say. "Very well. If you don't tell me with your mouth, then I'm going to make your body tell me." I look down my nose at her.

She panics, turning to walk away but I reach out and snatch her up roughly by her arm, yanking her back and pushing her against the window hard. "King-" she gasps.

My dick twitches at the sight of her eyes going wide. I'm about to make her submit to me in ways that she isn't even capable of understanding. If she couldn't look at me before, after sex, she's really not going to be able to look at me now.

"If you don't tell me you love me, then that means you're living in my house, taking my name, and fucking me no better than a whore. And so, since you want to be a whore, I'm about to fuck you like one."

"Wait-" she yelps as I fist my hand in her hair and begin to drag her to the side wall where there's a connecting door to her bedroom. I push her through, and her head swivels, confused as to how we got in here.

"I'm done waiting. Take your clothes off. Leave your wedding ring on." Showing her I mean business, I begin to strip out of my own clothes. "Get on your bed."

Isobel's eyes widen. "Hendrix-"

I take a step into her, looking down my nose at her trembling body. God she's so sweet with her pissed off attitude. It gives her skin this sensual, rosy glow. There's a touch of heat rising off her skin that's addicting, and unable to help myself I raise my hand and place it gently on her chest, sliding up to her neck. Our eyes meet, and for just a moment she looks frozen, innocent, like a deer caught in headlights.

But I know better… she's my little hellion.

Wetting my lips I caress her pulse with my thumb ever so gently.

"Obey me."