Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Isla
He claims my mouth with raw intensity, years of buried need pouring into the kiss. His tongue sweeps in, demanding and possessive, as his arms band around me.
I melt against him, surrendering to the heat, the desperation, the need. The room fades until there’s nothing but his touch, his taste, the sound of our ragged breaths mingling.
His hands slide down my back, finding the zipper of my dress. In one fluid motion, he drags it down, his mouth never leaving mine. The silk pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but a black lace thong. His groan vibrates against my lips as his hands explore my skin.
“Fuck, look at you,” he breathes, pulling back to take me in.
I reach for his tie, needing him closer, needing his skin against mine. He helps me strip him, shirt buttons scattering as my trembling fingers fumble. His pants follow, boxers shoved down until we’re both naked, both breathing hard.
“Christ, Isla.” His voice is rough, eyes dark with hunger as I step out of my thong. The hard length of his cock presses against my hip, and heat floods between my thighs.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, trailing kisses down my neck.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp as his mouth finds my collarbone.
His hand cups my breast, thumb circling my nipple until I arch into his touch. The sensation shoots straight to my clit, making me whimper.
“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back enough to look at me, to see my breasts flushed, my nipples hard peaks.
I want more than to see. I put my hand over his, pulling it back to my breast, arching into his touch.
“Touch me,” I beg. “Touch me everywhere.”
He takes my request as permission, sweeping me up into his arms, laying me back against the bed. I watch his eyes, dark now, hooded, as his mouth descends between my breasts, his tongue swirling a hot path along the valley between them.
My hands come up to bury themselves in his hair, keeping him close as his mouth worships my chest, my breasts, his thumbs finding my nipples, rubbing hard little circles that have every nerve in my body on fire.
When I think I can’t possibly feel more, can’t possibly want more, he moves south, kissing a path across my stomach, dipping lower, his eyes on mine, the heat banked in their blue depths telling me exactly what he intends.
And then his head is between my thighs, and he’s pulling them apart, angling them over his shoulders and I’m opening for him because I can’t do anything else.
His mouth is on me then, hot and damp and so good, and I can’t help the high, keening noise that escapes my throat as his tongue swirls and strokes and tastes. The sensation is incredible, and I moan, a raw, desperate sound that echoes off the walls.
His tongue flicks over my clit, a tiny swirl that sends sparks through my entire body.
“Eli,” I gasp, my hips instinctively tilting up, silently begging for more.
“That’s it, gorgeous,” he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble that vibrates through me.
His mouth works magic against me, sending pleasure spiraling outward from my core. My breath comes in ragged gasps as my back arches off the bed. His tongue is relentless, making me writhe and squirm as pleasure builds to a crescendo.
“Oh fuck, I’m...” I can’t even finish the sentence as my climax takes hold of me.
My fingers bite into his shoulders, keeping him close as my hips rock mindlessly through my climax. He kisses me then, gentle now, soft and sweet until I can think again. Then his hands are on my thighs, pushing them wider, making me whimper at the loss.
“I’ve got you,” he says, kissing my inner thigh, sucking a mark into the tender flesh that makes me shiver.
His breath is hot against my slickness, his tongue a slick, wet stroke that nearly sends me over the edge again.
“I’ve got you,” he promises again, and then he’s pushing inside, stretching me, filling me, claiming me.
I hiss at the burn, tightening around him reflexively. He’s big, thicker than I remembered, but it’s been so long, and I want him so badly that the discomfort only makes my nails bite harder into his shoulders as I arch up.
“Fuck,” he groans, arms straining. “You’re so tight, so fucking—Fuck!”
“Move,” I demand. “Now.” I push against his shoulders, urging him to move, needing him to move.
He swears again, dragging his lips across my breasts, his cock pulsing inside me, thick and hard and I am so full, so unbelievably full. And then he does move, dragging himself out and slamming back in, hitting a spot that leaves me mindless, pleasure sparking along my nerve endings.
I cry out, incoherent, desperate as he thrusts again, hitting that perfect spot as I bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming.
“There,” I moan. “Eli, there!”
He shifts his hips, angling them even as he strokes my clit with his thumb, and pleasure bursts behind my closed eyelids like fireworks, color and light and heat.
“I can feel you,” he warns, dragging his open mouth across my throat. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“Feels so damn good,” I gasp, my body taut, vibrating with the need to come again.
“Damn right, it does.” And his voice is dark, rough, thick with his pleasure, his hips snapping now as he pounds into me, each hit to that perfect spot making me see stars, each hard stroke of his cock bringing me closer to the edge again.
“God, Isla...” He falters, biting my shoulder. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Harder,” I beg. “Harder, please.” I want to feel every thrust rock through me, want him to fuck me until we both break.
He gives it to me, dragging himself nearly all the way out and slamming back in with enough force that the headboard bangs against the wall.
My heels dig into the mattress, my body arching up to meet his thrusts, my hands clutching at his sweat-slick back as he fucks me, hard and fast and perfect.
My inner walls flutter around his cock, tightening with the need to come again, and I don’t know how long I can hold out against him.
“Eli, oh god, I’m...” I fall apart, my cries filling the room as my body clenches around him in wave after wave of pure, intense pleasure.
“Let go for me, gorgeous,” he growls, slamming into me through my release, his voice rough with need.
He pounds into me, relentless, unforgiving, until I feel his body go taut above me, until the slide of his cock inside me changes as he spills himself inside me, his teeth pressing against my pulse point as he rides out his climax.
I run my hands up and down his back, my breathless cries slowly easing into soft sobs as I feel his weight on me, feel the slow, wet slide of his softening cock inside me. My breath comes in shuddering gasps, and I realize I’m crying, great, gulping tears that soak into his damp skin.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes, brushing damp hair from my face, kissing the tears from my cheeks as he pulls out, gathering me into his arms, holding me close as he settles us back against the pillows.
“I’ve got you.”
“Mmm,” I hum, my arms around him, stroking his back gently.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, his softening cock still inside me, his heartbeat thrumming against my skin. Eventually, though, he lifts his head, meeting my eyes as he raises a hand to brush the tears from my face, his thumb gentle against my cheek.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “You okay?”
My breath hitches, and I nod, unable to speak past the thickness in my throat.
“You’re sure?” He searches my eyes for the truth, his thumb still gently pressed against my cheek.
I kiss his thumb then, my lips lingering against his skin.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” I let out a shaky breath, tucking my head against his shoulder. “Better than okay.”
When he kisses me this time, it’s different—slower, deeper, like we have all the time in the world. The city fades away until there’s nothing but us, healing five years of hurt with every touch, every whispered word of devotion.
He pulls away gently, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Don’t move.”
I hear water running in the bathroom, and he returns with a warm washcloth. The tenderness in his touch as he cleans between my thighs makes my heart clench. He drops soft kisses along my hip, my stomach, like he can’t bear to stop touching me even for a moment.
When he’s done, he tosses the cloth aside and gathers me against his chest, pulling the sheets over us. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back as I curl into his warmth.
“Stay,” he murmurs against my hair, and this time I know he means forever.
“Yes,” I breathe against his skin. “Yes.”
Morning light streams through the windows, painting Eli’s bedroom in soft gold. I wake slowly, pleasantly sore, wrapped in expensive sheets that smell like him. For a moment, I let myself pretend we’re five years ago, before everything fell apart.
“You’re thinking too loud.” Eli’s voice is rough with sleep as his arm tightens around my waist. He presses a kiss to my bare shoulder. “Stop it.”
I turn in his arms, drinking in the sight of him—hair mussed, guard completely down. This is the Eli so few people get to see. My heart aches with how much I’ve missed him.
“Coffee?” he offers, tracing patterns on my hip.
“In a minute.” I curl closer, not ready to face reality yet. “This is nice.”
His chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Nice? I must be losing my touch.”
“Fishing for compliments this early?”
But I can’t help smiling as I remember exactly how talented his touch still is.
“Maybe I just like watching you blush.” He props himself up on an elbow, eyes serious despite his teasing tone. “You’re still here.”
“Did you think I’d slip out before dawn?”
“The thought crossed my mind.” His fingers trail up my spine. “You did once before.”
The reminder of my past escape stings us both. “Eli?—”
“No.” He presses a finger to my lips. “I didn’t mean... I just want you to know you can talk to me. About anything that’s weighing on you.”
Wolfe’s threats flood back, guilt souring the morning’s sweetness. I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest.
“I should check in with the office.”
“Isla.” His hand catches mine. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out again.”
“I’m not, I just—“ My phone buzzes from somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes. Three messages from Drake.
Meeting with Wolfe confirmed our suspicions.
Call me ASAP. Property records show evidence of fraud.
This goes deeper than we thought. Where are you?
“Everything okay?” Eli asks, noticing my tension.
I force a smile, hating myself for the lie.
My pulse pounds as I stare at Drake’s messages. I should tell Eli. It’s his company, his family, his legacy. He deserves the truth. But what if this isn’t just about old property deeds? What if it’s bigger? More dangerous? Keeping him out of it might be the only way to protect him.
“Just work stuff. You mentioned coffee?”
He studies me for a long moment, and I see the exact second his walls start to rise.
“Right. Work stuff.”
The warmth in his eyes dims, just a fraction, but I feel it like a punch. His jaw tightens as he gets up, pulling on pants with the quiet efficiency of someone locking their emotions away.
“I’ll start the machine.”
As he leaves, I press my forehead to my knees, Drake’s warnings echoing in my head.
Last night was perfect—too perfect. The kind of night that makes you believe in second chances.
But second chances don’t come with secrets, and mine are stacking up like a house of cards.
Eli deserves the truth, and I just chose to lie to him. Again.
The weight of it settles in my chest as I sit naked on the bed, wrapped only in his sheets. If I don’t find a way out of this mess, it won’t be a house of cards that collapses—it’ll be us.
My phone buzzes again. Drake.
“Shit.” I whisper to the empty room.
Because how do I tell the man I’m falling for all over again that his father’s legacy might be built on lies?
The scent of coffee drifts in, along with memories of countless mornings like this one. Before secrets and sacrifice tore us apart. Before I learned that sometimes protecting someone means breaking their heart.
I get up, snagging his discarded dress shirt from the floor and slipping it over my shoulders, trying to ignore how cold the room feels without him in it.