Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
“All right,” was all she could muster.
Slowly, Isabella lowered herself into the water after he got comfortable, facing him. They were submerged beneath the surface, and Isabella couldn’t keep her eyes off the expanse of his shoulders and chest.
Boldly, she leaned in to kiss him, smiling as she pulled back after the kiss, enjoying the fact that he chased her lips.
He let out a playful growl, wrapping his fingers in her hair loosely to guide her mouth back to his.
“Have you missed kissing me?” she asked, aiming to tease more. Oscar pressed his mouth hungrily to her neck.
“You know I have,” he grunted.
His teeth nipped her skin, finding his way back to her mouth once more to push his tongue against hers. She let out a soft moan, moving closer as the water sloshed around them. Droplets dripped from his hair, onto his chest, and she chased them with her tongue after their mouths parted.
She licked up his skin, humming quietly, contentedly, and felt his length hardening against her.
Soon, they were kissing once more, forgetting to actually wash themselves, but instead finding more interest in one another’s tongues. As Isabella’s arousal grew, the steam made her flush, but the burning heat she felt for Oscar made her even warmer.
His hands moved to cup her breasts as she leaned into him, and, in a moment of hurried, desperate movement, he had her turned onto her back, flat against his chest. She felt the powerful body beneath her, and her legs parted around him naturally.
His mouth attached to her neck, while one hand remained fondling her breasts, alternating between each one, but the other…
Heavens, the other slid down her stomach, lingering just above the place between her legs that was already slickening with need.
“I do not want to push you further than—”
“Oscar, I crave you day and night,” she said, her voice almost dropping to a growl of frustration that he might think to stop now. Her hips lifted, an impatient need for his fingers driving her. “You have made me wait long enough already.”
“On the contrary, Duchess,” he murmured against the shell of her ear, “I do not think I have made you wait half as much as I want. I enjoyed how you pleaded for me to kiss you, how you begged for me.”
“By how you feel beneath me,” she answered, breathless, “I do not think I need to beg, for you are just as desperate.”
“And yet you do it so prettily. Beg for me, wife.”
The command came without question, but the way his voice dropped lower as he said it, so seductive and overwhelming, Isabella knew she would. His fingers danced over her thighs, teasing her with the lightest of touches.
Her hips continued trying to tilt up to seek his touch, but he always took it away, heightening her frustration.
“Heavens,” she bit out. “Please.”
“Please, what?” His smile curled against her cheek, his wet hair brushing her temple as he looked down her body.
“Please—please touch me,” she gasped out. “Please—”
Her plea ended in a choked moan as he slid two fingers into her without preamble.
Her hand immediately gripped his wrist. Not to stop, but to ground herself, as he set a firm pace from the start. His fingers delved into her, exploring her thoroughly. She rocked against the digits spreading themselves in her, the water slapping against the tub and between their bodies.
Beneath her, his length only grew harder, and she ached to have it.
He continued pressing into her, right against that soft spot within her, and Isabella keened, her nails digging into his skin, but she tried to be aware of not hurting him. Yet when she tried to pull her hand away, Oscar shook his head against hers.
“You may use me in whatever way you please,” he told her, sinful promises in his voice. “I can take any outburst of your desire. Mark me as yours, cover my scars with scratches if you need to, for you may crash against me whatever way you need.”
With that, she took the pleasure he delivered to her with the thrusting of his fingers, and when he curled them inside her, brushing against a spot his tongue had not touched the night in his study, Isabella’s body seized, pleasure racking through her. It was not quite an orgasm, but she saw stars.
“There,” she gasped out. “Oscar—Oscar—there. Please, please—”
He continued seeking that spot, and Isabella’s head fell back onto his chest, her eyes closing from the sheer intensity of what he was doing, and her hips moved of their own accord.
Soon, her body tensed again, and then the pleasure was mounting to a higher level than she had ever felt, and Oscar only kept his fingers thrusting in and out of her, bringing her closer to that release.
When Isabella climaxed, her cry of pleasure echoed off the bathroom walls, but she could hardly care about being heard. The echo of it, and of his own voice in her ear, encouraging her through it, was a sound that only heightened her desire.
Oscar continued his ministrations until her body jerked, oversensitive yet still tightening around him, as if reluctant to let him go.
“That’s it. That’s a good girl,” he chuckled under his breath and finally pulled free of her.
Once she came back to herself after that dizzying height of release, Isabella turned around to kiss him like a starved woman.
Their mouths met without finesse, a battle of want, messy and hungry.
She moaned into his mouth as his fingers dug into her thighs, tucking her knees around his hips.
In one powerful surge, he rose to his feet, holding her firm as though she weighed nothing, water streaming from them both as he stepped out of the tub without the slightest falter.
Isabella turned breathless at the display of strength. That he could easily scoop her up like this without any bracing.
He set her down gently on the bundle of towels that had been left on the floor, and when he gazed down at her, kneeling over her body, Isabella felt every doubt about whether he wanted her flee her mind. His eyes were dark with arousal, hooded and heavy.
“Yes?” she breathed, wanting to know what had him looking so lost to lust.
“You…” He was just as breathless as she was. “You are—you are everything. Your body is everything, and I cannot get enough of it. Enough of you, Isabella.”
His attention lingered on her breasts, and he lowered his mouth to one peaked nipple, swirling his tongue around it, before moving across to the other.
Isabella gasped, her fingers sliding into his hair. She tightened her grip on him as he laved his tongue over her breasts, kissing and sucking little pink marks into her already flushed skin.
As he did, he positioned himself against her in such a way that his length was pressing against her folds, where his fingers had just prepared her for the intrusion.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmured against the swell of her chest, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. Isabella felt dizzy with the attention.
“I want this,” she affirmed, her breath so short. “I want you. I want everything you have to give me, Oscar. Heavens, I want you inside me. I want you so pressed within me that I will feel you even when I wake tomorrow.”
“Such a filthy mouth,” he laughed quietly, sucking hard on her nipple before bracing himself above her.
The towels cushioned her body against the floor, and she felt as though she was drowning in comfort and him. All of him—every powerful inch—and then he was inside her snugly, as though they were both made to fit like this together.
At the first push into her, Isabella keened in her throat, her walls tightening around him.
Oscar made a rough noise in his throat, and she marveled at the flex of his muscles as he slowly pushed more of himself into her.
His eyes never left hers, and she knew he was searching for signs of pain.
It was an adjustment, certainly, but she would not go back.
She did not want to be parted from him like this.
Once he was fully inside her, Isabella gasped out, her head tipping back against the towels. Her eyes fluttered closed again, but a thumb pressing to her mouth made her open them.
“Keep your eyes on me, Isabella,” Oscar told her. “I want to see every dark look of yours as I pleasure you, for your eyes go so deliciously shadowed when you are in the throes of passion.”
“O-Oscar,” she moaned, unable to handle the words.
Not when her body was already so heated, not when desire burned her from the inside out, and not when she was so, so full of him.
He was deeper than she had ever thought could be possible, and it was a marvel to even know he fit inside her.
Glancing down, she saw how closely their hips pressed together, and she let out a disbelieving breath.
“Move,” she allowed, nodding.
“Ask me nicely,” he purred, rocking his hips once in a torturous taunt.
“Please move,” she begged. “Take me. Please. I am yours—wholly. I need you.”
As if to ascertain that, her walls clenched around him, and Oscar’s teasing smirk dropped as he groaned. His hand pressed to the floor next to her head, and he began to pull out and thrust back into her. He did so firmly but slowly, deepening how he filled her each time.
Isabella’s breath punched out of her, her moans spilling into the space between them.
Her legs were parted around his hips, but he adjusted them so her ankles hung over his shoulders, and he pressed even closer into her.
Isabella mewled, her nails scrabbling over his shoulders, unable to stop her cries of pleasure as he hastened his thrusts.
“Heavens, you feel sinful,” he told her. “You feel like you were made to take me like this.”
He broke off into a groan as his hips stuttered, as if he was just as overwhelmed as she was.
Together, they drowned, and Isabella tugged his face to hers, kissing him through the unending pleasure as he rocked into her. He alternated from slow but deep rocking to faster thrusts that were shallower but kept her teetering on the edge pleasurably.
She could not help how vocal she became beneath his touch, his attention, and she scrabbled to keep him close, not daring to let even an inch of space part them.
When Oscar rolled his hips against her, pushing as deep as he could go, and holding that depth, Isabella realized she was climaxing once more, caught unawares by it.
Her body began to tremble, and then a violent shudder had her ascending from her own body, her eyes rolling back as her orgasm took over her senses. Her hips were moving against his, and she heard Oscar’s own pants as he chased his release right alongside hers.
When he climaxed, she felt the spill of him inside her, but she only moaned at the sensation, craving him all over again.
Oscar went to pull out, but she clamped her legs tighter around him, her eyes heavy.
“Do not move,” she murmured, her voice slurring with the effects of her ebbing pleasure.
Her body felt limp, and she was aware that he shifted them so she could slump onto his lap. It only made his length go deeper once more, and she let out a weak moan.
“I wish to take you again,” she told him, giggling into his neck as her hips were already working to have more pleasure, more of him, and she knew she would quickly become addicted to such sensations.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for a moment,” he laughed softly, brushing her wet hair from her neck.
“I need you,” she responded, kissing the base of his throat.
“Then allow me to pleasure you with my tongue until I can enter you properly again,” he offered, pulling back to offer her a devastating smirk.
Within a moment, Isabella was on her knees, her hips pulled to his face in the lewdest of ways, yet once his tongue entered her, every other thought left her mind.