Chapter 22
Isabelle
Like a flame moving down a wick, the rest of the night was a slow burn that kept getting hotter. Flirtatious whispers. A few
well-placed comments about using his hands. Small touches—all perfectly appropriate—like a hand at the crook of my neck, or
fingers occasionally sweeping back and forth along my collarbone. The gestures rasped against my skin with an undercurrent
that was carnal and just a bit possessive.
They scattered tingles in my stomach all night, lacing the entire evening with anticipation that thickened to a haze as we
made our way back to our suite.
My heels clicked against the marble floor. A few steps behind me, the metallic clack of the lock sliding into place filled
the silent room.
In the dark living area, the city lights streamed in through the sheer curtain. Austin didn’t say anything, but I could practically
feel his footsteps thud at the bottom of my belly as he placed my things down on the entryway table.
“Isa.” The baritone in his voice plucked a string deep in my belly.
“Yeah.”
In the dim glow from the lamp in the corner, my eyes became transfixed on the quick flick it took to loosen and remove his
cufflinks. Whether it was the dexterity or the way they clinked against the wood, cutting through the heavy tension—I couldn’t tell. But my heart raced.
“What do you want?” He looked up. Sky-blue eyes drowned out the entire world. All I could see, hear, think was everything
I wanted to happen.
Caught in a heavy current, my thoughts tumbled out. “I need to put my hair up.” I swallowed against a dry throat. “So I can
wash this off.”
He nodded and picked up a hair tie from the table. Ambient streetlights that spilled through the windows passed like bars
over his body as he closed the space between us.
“We’ll get to that.” His words prickled against my skin. “What do you want?”
Desire curled between my thighs.
My teeth scraped over my lower lip. “Help me wash this off?”
He leaned down and hummed close to my lips, taking a second to wait there. Pulling the tension so taut it stretched and thinned,
getting closer to snapping. An inch away from the kiss we’d been waiting to have, he didn’t move.
He watched with carnal amusement, and a smirk dug into his cheek. “I knew you could ask for help.”
He pulled back a few inches. I was pinned by his controlled stare. Those nimble fingers undid the clasp that held up the billowing skirt of my lehenga. It pooled on the floor. Seconds later the bodice came loose, and his index finger ran a slow line along my collar.
He watched me like a lion watched prey, and I let him. I stayed absolutely still.
He nudged one strap off, then the other. It skated down my body on its way to the floor. Completely naked aside from my lace
panties, trembles and goose bumps laid claim to every inch his gaze touched.
His jaw flexed under a groan that rumbled in his chest.
The electricity cracked and popped between us. Finally, his mouth dipped to mine and, a hair’s distance from my lips, he said:
“Get in the shower, Isa.”
My pussy clenched.
His hands splayed along my hips and turned me around, an arm looped around my naked waist, and he dropped a few stray kisses
on the nape of my neck as we walked into the bathroom.
One blink and the shower was running; the next and he was unbuttoning his shirt and discarding his clothes. My eyes took their
time wandering down his sculpted body. The deep-cut V in his abs arrowing straight down to his dick.
I licked my lips.
Before I could gawk, he moved behind me.
His fingers gently weaved through my hair, pulling it up.
Static yoked up my spine. The momentary surprise evaporated in the steam that billowed around us. “What are you . . .”
In the partially cloudy mirror, I could see our blurry reflection as he gently pulled my hair into a neat bun.
“You said you needed to pull your hair back.” His breath fanned down my neck. I leaned against his body, feeling every inch of his erection against my back. “And the sooner we wash the mehndi off, the sooner we can get to that.”
His palm slid over my stomach. A finger looped around my panties and yanked them down.
Anticipation arrowed between my thighs.
The ache begged for attention, and, my hair surprisingly well-secured, I made the only move I could make.
I stepped into the shower with Austin right behind me.
The water only intensified the feeling that jumped along every nerve ending. In seconds the dried powder on my hands melted
off, and the brilliant orange disappeared from my palms, leaving behind a slightly paler design. I turned around, and his
muddled blue eyes met mine.
Rivulets of water dripped down his face. Finally, I could touch him, and the first place my hands went was that slab of marble
that was his chest. His hands on either of my hips, his thumbs ran tight circles on each side. Slow and controlled, his lips
lowered to mine.
He kissed me with a gentle peck at first, barely pressing against my lips.
I exhaled a pleading sigh, and finally, his patience snapped.
With the speed and intensity of a firecracker going off, the kiss exploded, filling the air around us with sparks. A groan
climbed up his chest, and he deepened the kiss. His fingers gripped my hips, bruising with how firm his hold was.
His hand smoothed down my stomach and his fingers stopped at my naval. A jittery fog filled my mind as the steam filled the shower.
“Isa.” Ragged and gravelly, his voice pulled with desire between heavy breaths.
The water gently lapping down my body mixed with the static building in my core. I was so aroused, I felt slickness between
my thighs despite the water falling over me.
“More.” My fingers weaved into his hair and yanked.
“Like this?” He paused, let his thumb wander down, and ran it lightly over my clit.
My hips jerked forward.
“Yes.”
He sank a finger into me.
“Fuck,” he gritted out. “You’re tight.”
My head tilted back slowly against the shower tile and I grinded against him. Every nerve ending was aware and waiting, the
tension pulled tighter and tighter, making the air thin.
Using the heel of his palm against my clit, he sank another finger into me, and everything went topsy-turvy.
“Remember when you questioned my stamina, Isa?” he asked through a tight jaw.
Lost in every sensation, all I could do was let the moan and whimpers for more fall loose from my mouth. I wanted more in
any way he’d give it to me.
Molten pleasure moved up my spine. I ran my hand over his shoulder to his back as I tried to hold on.
“Austin,” I murmured just before it all came together. The electricity, the heat, the cliff every one of my nerves was about to fall off.
The world around us muffled under the filthy chorus of my breathy moans, the water dripping down intermingled with the slick
sounds of his fingers stroking and curling until he found that spot.
I gasped. My leg swung around his waist, shamelessly grinding against him for more. A static began to move through my legs,
concentrating at my core. My eyes closed and I let the feeling pull me under, so close I could almost . . .
“For the rest of the night.” He pressed firmer against my clit. “We’re going to set the record straight.”
The tension tightened, getting me so close with every progressive push against my sensitive skin.
Then, it all stopped. His hand and body moved away from mine. My eyes blinked, I tried to regain some focus, and the shower
door swung open.
A whoosh of air and the suffocating steam dissipated.
My eyes fluttered open as a towel wrapped around me.
“What are you . . .” My brain was scrambled, my body frustrated, and more than anything begging to be touched.
He held the towel closed with both hands and leaned down to my ear. “Taking control, like you asked.”
A towel around his waist, he stepped out and dried off. I stood there, stunned for a moment. I reveled in that feeling.
It was nice to have someone else take control, to simply ride along for a bit.
I stepped out of the shower and stood directly in front of him.
“If you keep teasing me . . .” I warned, but it got lost in the look he gave me. A stare like a boxer waiting in their corner.
“You’re going to what?” His broad chest at my eyeline, his hand snaked into my towel, and his thumb barely touched my aching
clit, my body jolting at the tiny, provocative contact. “Come on, Doc. Threaten me.”
The words sent sparks down my naval.
“If you do that again,” I clarified. My skin, dried but dewy, filled with a renewed heat.
“If I don’t let you come?” He dragged his thumb over my clit again, slower this time. Static filled my legs.
My breath hitched. “Yes.”
“How about this. I’ll let you come. I’ll even let you pick.” He tossed my towel to the side. Pushing the bathroom door open
a bit further, he took my hand and led me out. His eyes moved from the doorway to the small writing desk to the armoire and
then to the bed. “Bent over the desk or the bed?”
My teeth sank into my lower lip. God, if every one of his requests came alongside this feeling, I’d be a lot more accommodating.
“Desk,” I whispered. Anticipation slickened between my thighs.
Without another word, he led me the few steps to the desk in front of the bed and fanned his fingers out on the small of my
back, bending me over.
His other hand roamed. Touching, squeezing, teasing all over my body. Finally, it nudged my legs apart. I flicked a glance
over my shoulder.
“You sure you’re okay in control?” I taunted, aching to feel just how serious he was.
His hand was heavy on my back, pushing against me in warning, bringing me down to my elbows. “Don’t test me, Isa.”
He moved away for a second, and the sound of foil ripping open filled the electric quiet.
Then he neared, his hand moving up my spine, gently gripping the base of my neck. His fingers stroked my collarbone.
His dick slid across my entrance a few times before he pushed into me tentatively, the tip moving into me just enough to torment