Chapter 18
I’ve never met someone who pushes me like Isla does, and not in a good way.
She raises my blood pressure to dangerous levels, and it never comes down around her.
I can’t tell if it’s because of the unspoken connection between us or the fact that I can’t have her, which makes me want her so much more.
“I can’t kiss you, Isla.”
“Why not? It’s the least you can do after everything you’ve said,” she rasps, pressing herself against me.
“I’m not afraid to tell you the things others cannot. I’m not afraid to hurt you, Isla.”
“But you don’t want to hurt me, do you?” she asks. “Tell me how you knew I took my pills.”
“I counted them.”
Her eyes snap up to meet my gaze. “That’s a little obsessive, don’t you think?” she whispers, tracing her lips over mine. My blood on them, like the red lipstick she likes to wear, makes my dick hard.
“Are you trying to push me over the edge?” I ask, threading my fingers through her midnight hair, the strands smooth and thick.
“I can’t tell what you want from me.” She breathes in, closing her eyes as her soft lips move. “You act like I mean something to you, but I heard you speaking with Emmett about someone else.”
I stiffen at the mere mention of her.
Why haven’t I thought of her since having my fingers inside Isla? I spent the last thirteen years of my life trying to find her, and now all I can think about is Isla.
All I see is Isla.
And with her hands all over me now, all I can feel is Isla.
It takes time to forget, but I haven’t. Not a single minute in those thirteen years have I forgotten about her, but in the last few days, it’s like the memories have been shifted by someone else.
I stare at the woman before me—bold, unapologetic, and entrancing. If I have my taste of her, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.
Worse, the black tendrils surrounding my once-beating heart will not withstand her demands of entry. No other woman has come close to breaching the doors, let alone lacing her every touch with something I only ever felt or wanted once before.
“If I kiss you, I won’t stop there, Little Nycto,” I warn.
Her full lips curve into that sensual smile I cannot get enough of. “I’m not asking you to.”
The guilt I haul with me every second is numbed by her touch, her fingers working as she unbuttons my bloodied shirt. I feel the perfectly secured gates around my dead heart creaking open with every touch, and this time, I’m choosing to ignore it.
She moans as my lips crush hers, her hands working to unbutton my trousers, my cock already hard and waiting for her.
I haven’t been able to silence it. The want, the lust, the cravings I’ve had since she slept in my bed, and finally tonight, I get to explore the reason why she makes me feel like this when no one else could.
She invites me in, opening her mouth to allow my tongue on hers as she pulls my briefs down. It takes me no time or effort to get her out of her jeans and panties before I press her up against the metal bars of the large cage.
“We don’t have any protection,” she mutters through our tongues at war.
Her skin is soft to the touch as my hand travels beneath her shirt, jerking her bra down to cup her plump breast. “I’m clean.”
“So am I.”
Hooking my arm behind her knee, I hold up her leg, her pussy beckoning the tip of my cock.
Her arousal is the only confirmation I need of my effect on her as I press myself into her, the crown of my cock entering her pussy at a torturous pace.
I want to savour it. The moment, the lustful look in her eyes, and the way she’s gripping the bar above her head like she’s burdened with the same things I am, like she’s barely holding on to the voice of reason telling her this is going to be the worst mistake.
But she doesn’t listen to that voice as she wraps her other arm around my neck and leans back, her eyes dropping to my cock entering her further. The feel of her tight walls making way for me is hypnotic, and when she moves her hips over me, begging me to go deeper, I groan.
“I didn’t plan to fuck you in my club,” I say, pushing in further, her moans inciting me to drive into her hard and fast, to encase my entire cock in her pussy. “But now that we’re here, how deep do you think you can take me, Little Nycto?”
I push in until I’m halfway, and she sucks in a breath. The hand that was on the bars now rests on my bare chest, her nails digging into my skin. The gratifying sting makes me push another inch inside her.
“It’s too much,” she whimpers, and I smile, tearing the front of her shirt open and securing my hand around her neck.
“You will take all of it.” I sheathe myself completely inside her without warning, our moans simultaneous, weaving around each other in the air around us. “Fuck.”
“Move,” she begs. “Malik, please.”
“Say my name again.”
“Malik,” she breathes. “Malik.” Again, like a fucking drug I can’t get enough of, her breathy voice is like a siren’s call, coaxing me further away from her and closer to Isla.
I work my hips back and forth, her head tipping back as her eyes roll. Her teeth are punishing her plump lower lip, so beautifully swollen because of me.
In and out, I roll my hips, building up the pace, then her eyes spring open and land on mine.
“More,” she demands, and I comply, moving faster and thrusting harder.
The green valleys in her eyes pull me in, drawing my lips closer to hers, and when our mouths meet, something inside me bursts open, the cloud eclipsing everything in its path, determined to commandeer my entire body.
I don’t stop it.
I don’t resist.
Because resisting her is like resisting change. Pointless and cataclysmic.
“Don’t hold back anymore,” she implores.
I hold her throat, pressing her further into the cage, her body jolting with every hard thrust I give her.
I can’t bear to look at her anymore, because every time I do, I feel myself drift further away from the man I was.
The one who tried to keep all the promises I said I would.
Without expectation or explanation. I wanted to be that for her.
The person who does exactly what he says, but with each glance, each touch and every fucking moan, Isla turns me into someone else.
Someone who would hurt for her.
Someone who would bleed for her.
And someone who would kill for her.
She whimpers when I pull out, turning her head slightly, peering at me over her shoulder.
I know exactly how to show her who I really am.
“Get in the cage.”
Her mouth twitches, hiding a smile, and it makes my cock jerk knowing she wants this.
No, she craves this.
“Are you going to play with me?” She turns, removing her coat, letting it fall to the floor, then discarding whatever remains of her shirt. She moves confidently and suggestively, stepping one foot into the cage, then closing the enclosure behind her.
I watch as she bends her knees, resting her ass on her heels, and spreads them. She’s putting on a show for me, and I’m revelling in every second of it.
“You can’t keep me caged forever,” she says in a low voice.
But I’d like to. I want to keep her here, bound and gagged, so no one can take her from me.
Not even her.
“Well,” she teases, sticking out her tongue, gliding it against the bar as she lowers her hand between her legs. “Tell me what you want from me, Malik.”