Chapter 25
Nikolai
Isabelle Callahan is going to be the death of me.
Looking at her in my bed, I realize I’m pretty fucking okay with that.
She’s on her stomach, calves crossed in the air, her hair tossed carelessly over one shoulder. When I click the door shut—she
left it unlocked so I’d find her exactly like this, I’m sure—she flicks her gaze to mine before turning her attention back
to her book.
I can’t believe she stole my keys from right under my nose.
I lean against the doorway. “You swiped my keys.”
She turns a page in her book.
I run my hand over my jaw. I peel off my jacket and toss it onto the desk chair. I wish I could see inside her head, figure
out what she’s thinking. All I know is that I feel off-kilter. I didn’t intend to hang out with Cooper at her house, but he
asked, and I couldn’t say no, after our conversation with Coach. Yet the look on her face when she saw me with her brother...
I didn’t really think she was going out with someone else, but for half a second I considered it, and I hated it so much,
I wanted to march out the door after her and stop her from getting in her car.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how my date’s going?” she asks.
“If this is about your brother, he’s the one who invited me over.”
She keeps reading.
“Isabelle. Look at me.”
A tight white dress. Seashell-pink lipstick. Her long, strong legs, swinging back and forth like she’s having a goddamn picnic, not camping out on my bed. Everything about her is so sexy, it makes me dizzy. My dick ached the entire Uber here—I declined Cooper’s invitation to drive me home, and I was too impatient to walk—and she has to know it. She didn’t put on that dress and those fuck-me pumps without wanting to make it so.
It’s calculated. Measured.
Thank fucking God she’s not on a date with someone else.
She’s not really reading. She’s waiting. She took out the game board and set up the pieces, and she wants me to roll first.
I lean against my closet door, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Looks like your date ditched you.”
“He’s a little late.” She finally looks at me, marking her place in the book with her finger. “Between you and me, I think
he’s hanging out with my brother instead.”
“If it’s for the good of the team,” I say lightly.
She sits up, arranging her body with delicate preciseness. She looks like a princess, hair cascading down her back, legs pressed
together and angled to the side. Her eyes, however, are stormy.
“I thought the last date I had with him went well,” she says, picking an invisible bit of lint off her skirt. “I’d give it
a seven out of ten.”
My jaw twitches. “Only a seven?”
“We hit a wall. And I’m sorry about that. But then he doesn’t text—you know how I hate when guys don’t text.”
“I can imagine.”
She sighs, sounding put-upon. “As if that’s not bad enough, I find out that he’s hanging out with my brother. Acting like
he doesn’t know me at all.”
I’m itching to break character, but I just shake my head. “You have to know it’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it?” She presses her lips together. “I spent all this time getting ready, and he’s late.”
I take a step closer. Just one, as careful as she’s being. This is a dance. Her game.
“Maybe I can help.”
She snaps her gaze upward. “He’ll be upset if he sees me with someone else.”
Another step, and another. I cup her chin in my hand, brushing my thumb over her lips. Her eyes flutter shut, body relaxing
into my touch.
“Take it out on me,” I whisper.
Slowly, slowly, she slips to her knees. My breath hitches.
She drags her fingernail down the hard bulge in my jeans. I curl my fingers in her hair, just lightly, wanting her to guide
the moment. She undoes my pants, taking out my already-hard cock.
She reaches between her legs. Heat pools in my stomach and lower, making my body tighten with anticipation. Her hand shines
with her own slick as she grips me, mouthing at the tip with the tiniest, most perfect sigh.
“Atta girl,” I say hoarsely.
She manages to smile, even as she takes more of me into her mouth. She works me over with her hand, just the way she knows
I like. Her tongue presses against the sensitive underside, making me jerk, fingers tightening in her hair. She moans, and
the sound emboldens me; I wrap her hair in my fist and pull. I’d recognize that intake of breath anywhere.
She looks up, eyes sparkling, and gets me back by running her nail down the vein in my cock.
I hiss, resisting the desire to push further into the warmth of her mouth. She teases me with each lick, each shallow suck,
until she takes me into her throat. Her lips look pretty as fuck stretched around my dick, lipstick smudged. I sink deeper
without entirely intending to, but she takes it. My perfect girl takes what I give her, trusting me not to choke her.
“Breathe through your nose,” I remind her. I watch her relax and reward her with a gentler tug on her hair. “That’s it. You’re being such a good girl for me.”
Only for me. I don’t want her on her knees for anyone else; this is a sight for me and me alone. Other guys didn’t know how to
treat her right. A girl like her needs it dirty, no matter how sweet she seems.
I thrust deeper, rough enough to make a claim. She shuts her eyes again. Tears leak from the corners, her diamond earrings
swaying with our movements.
“You get me so fucking hot.” My voice drops to a callous whisper. “What if I came down your throat? Would you drink every
drop?”
She manages a moan, the vibrations going straight to my dick. I let out a strangled curse, thrusts faltering. My balls draw
up tight, the pleasure building to a fever pitch in my gut. However much I love when she swallows my seed, I love coming inside
her more. I ease her off my cock, hand curling over her cheek. I will myself to calm down long enough to get inside her.
“Easy, sunshine,” I murmur as I help her to her feet.
I turn her around, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder as I inch down the zipper of her little white dress. She’s breathing
shallowly, each touch sparking more soft, addictive noises.
The dress falls from her shoulders. I press close, wrapping my arm over her middle, letting her feel the weight of it. She
turns her head, seeking out my kiss. I reward her with one, my tongue slipping into her mouth. I reach down with my other
hand, pushing aside the flimsy fabric of her panties, and work two fingers in deep.
“Nik,” she says immediately, her voice high and breathy. “Babe, oh my God—”
I scrape my teeth over her pulse, then kiss it. She shudders in my arms, pushing against me until I thrust my fingers, plunging in and out with less finesse than raw, bone-deep need. I want her coming on my fingers and again on my cock, and I want to hear it. Yet technically, we’re still playing her game. Dancing around each other.
“Let him hear what he’s missing,” I order.
She gets louder and louder, whining each time I pinch her clit, until she’s teetering on the edge. I add a third finger and
curl all of them inside her, and she comes with my name on her lips.
Fucking hell, I love that sound. My dick is throbbing so badly, I hiss as it presses against the small of her back. I urge
her onto the bed, grabbing a condom from the nightstand before joining her.
“Come here,” she says, reaching up to kiss me, her nails combing through my hair.
I rip the wrapper with my teeth and roll the condom on, then prop myself up to get a good look at her. I’m always breathless
around her, but this is a special kind of torture. She’s still half-wearing the dress, her delicate, light pink bralette visible
alongside the ruined matching panties. I messed up her hair, and there’s a smear of lipstick across her cheek. She strokes
my arm, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
An errant tear slips down her face. I wipe it away with the hand that’s still soaked in her slick.
“Good?” I check, just to be safe. “I didn’t push you too much, did I?”
She shakes her head, then drags me between her legs. “Please.”
That one little word has me on the fucking edge again. I tear her panties off and press against her as her legs wrap around
my still-clothed body. Her heels hook at my back, encouraging me to push into her.
“Fucking hell,” I groan when I’m inside her all the way. Pleasure sparks down my spine at the feel of her tight core. I thrust shallowly, and she squeezes tight around my cock as if in answer. I move for real, then, shoving her several inches up the bed accidentally. She reaches for the slats in the headboard, steadying us both.
“Come on,” she says, a satisfied smirk on her face. “You can give it to me harder.”
No doubt she knows by now exactly how easily she’s able to unravel me. I thrust again and again, bending my head low to kiss
her. My hair falls into my eyes as I build up a rhythm, but I shake it away so I can see the unbridled pleasure on her face.
My hips snap forward and back, drawing enough noise from her that there’s no way other people in the hall don’t know what
we’re up to.
Fuck it. Let them hear her. When I’m deep inside her again, I freeze with difficulty, rubbing her clit. Her hips nearly come
off the bed, even pinned by my body. Her eyes are wild, desperate. I move again, touching her clit all the while. When she’s
trembling so hard I can feel it, I press a chaste kiss to her cheek, so different from the rough thrusts.
“Let go, sweetheart.”
“Nik—”
“For me, Isabelle.”
I slam home one more time. She cries out loudly as the orgasm hits her, and that combined with her tight fucking pussy sends
me over the edge as well. I come with a moan, the tension leaving my body at once as I sag against her. After a long moment,
I try to pull away, but she holds me still.
“Don’t wanna squish you,” I mumble.
“I like it.” She skims her nails over my nape, making me shiver. “You didn’t even get undressed.”
“I’m sure we look ridiculous.”
“Everyone on your floor must hate us.”
I snort, kissing her temple. Eventually, I ease out of her and settle us on our sides. Spooned against me, I’m able to truly hold her, my heart beating a possessive tattoo all the while. I always worry about pushing her too far in bed, and she always gives it back as good as she takes it.
“Nik,” she murmurs into the twilight. “I really am sorry.”
I skim my nose over her bare shoulder. “And I’m sorry I overreacted.”
“But I pushed.” She twists to look at me. “I just... I want you to know I’m here. When you are ready to share.”
I trace over her hip. After I dropped her off around the corner from her house, I sat on the curb until my nausea passed and
I could feel my hands again, but it wasn’t easy.
I should be pulling away. Better not to play the game at all than try and lose. I can’t have more with her, no matter my possessiveness,
and the other night made that crystal clear.
And yet, selfishly, I kiss her cheek. “Spend the night.”
“Cooper will wonder where I am.”
I reach for her purse, pulling out her phone, and type out a text one-handed. I hit send. “Now he won’t.”
She huffs a quiet bit of laughter. “You better not make me late for conditioning.”