20. Isabella
CHAPTER TWENTY
ISABELLA
The moment was too much.
Too much tension. Too much sexual energy. Too much everything. If I didn’t do something to break the mood, I was going to fall to my knees and beg for him.
And I don’t beg for anything.
Not anymore.
But the playful promise in his eyes is swirling up a new kind of tension. I back away slowly as he wipes the frosting from his face with a napkin.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmurs. The permanent growl in his voice draws me in like a siren’s song.
Images of him chasing me through a forest dance around my head. How his muscles would strain as he hunted me. What he would do once he caught me.
A fantasy to be saved for another time.
I bump against another table. “Nowhere.”
“It would be a shame to ruin your dress.” He cocks his head, considering. “At least, it would be a shame to ruin it with frosting.”
A shiver of desire raises goosebumps along my arms. The dominant tone, the intense gaze, the promise in his words—they all equal a need I never knew I had.
His hand slides into my hair and cradles the back of my head, thumb caressing my cheek. “How should I ruin you, Izzy?”
Nick told me point-blank that this isn’t no-strings-attached. That he wants me. Time to trust him and jump in.
I hook my fingers in his belt loops, pulling him so he’s flush against me—pressing me that much further into the rough curve of the table’s edge. “In only the best ways.”
His chuckle is deep and warm like a bonfire. Like the softest blanket.
Like home.
He leans in, rubbing his nose against mine. We’re only a hairsbreadth apart.
“I’m going to kiss you now, Isabella Gregory.”
I close that final inch between our mouths, placing a whisper of a kiss on his lips just to beat him to it. The hand in my hair tightens as he brings me back, kissing me like I’m the sweetest treat he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting.
His mouth is soft and warm, coaxing me into a gentle submission that makes my toes curl in my ridiculous heels. I don’t know what kind of kisses I’ve been having, but they were nothing like this.
Kissing Nick is life-changing.
Axis turning.
World-altering.
Kissing Nick is everything.
Another pathetic whimper builds in my throat as my hands slip up his sculpted abdomen to rest on his chest. I barely register the twinge in my neck or the way he’s practically bending me in half to reach my lips.
My entire body just wants more.
It’s him who pulls back this time, eyes trained on me, panting heavily. I whine, clawing at his neck, trying to pull him back down. I wasn’t done.
I don’t think I’ll ever be done.
He dives for my neck instead, kissing and softly nipping the sensitive skin in ways I didn’t even realize I liked. Needed.
“Izzy,” he pants, inhaling deeply. “Fuck, Izzy.”
“Mm?” I scratch my nails through his thick hair, getting lost in the soft strands.
He lifts his head, resting his forehead against mine. “I want to fucking devour you.”
“Yes,” I whisper, pushing up onto my toes to kiss him once more. This time, he grabs me underneath my thighs and lifts me onto the table, stepping within the cradle of my legs.
“Izzy,” he tries again, his chest rumbling against mine, hardening my nipples into stiff points begging for his mouth. “As much as I want to fuck you on this table, Georgie would kill me. Plus, I don’t share, and the curtains barely cover the windows.”
His words are a bucket of ice water. We aren’t in the comfort of my home or relaxing at his. We’re in public.
“Right.” I huff an embarrassed chuckle, bracing my hands on the table’s edge. “Yeah.”
“We should also talk about a few things first. Wolves are…different…from human men, and I want you to be prepared.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “I want you to be sure this is what you want.”
Uncharacteristic nervousness draws his eyebrows together, as if he’s scared I might say no, as if he’s trying to give me an out.
Is it possible he’s scared I’ll leave him just like his brother?
I smile at him, unable to hide the growing something in my chest that feels a lot like genuine affection. “Let’s talk about it over cake, hmm?”
His returning smile is blinding. Brighter than the sun could ever hope to be. Full of reassurance and confidence. “That sounds perfect.”
I move to slide off the table, but warm hands on my thighs stop me, his fingers playing with the hem of my dress. “Stay here.”
It’s more of a suggestion than a command, but I follow it regardless, as if he’s tied me down. I think maybe I’d like for him to tie me down.
Oof. Okay, I need to calm down—one step at a time.
Once I nod in agreement, he walks over to the cake. His movements are excruciatingly slow as he slices through and cuts the perfect piece.
Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. Too much for some, but I’ve always had a bit of a sweet tooth.
How did he know?
He strides back over, slacks straining against the muscles in his legs—and against something else long and thick I can’t rip my gaze from. It’ll take all the strength I have in me not to drool.
“See something you like?” he asks, lifting a forkful of cake toward my mouth.
“Won’t know until I taste it,” I reply, closing my lips around the fork while maintaining eye contact.
Sweet chocolate bursts on my tongue, accompanied by a slightly darker, richer flavor underneath.
Now that I’ve kissed Nick, it’s like my mind can’t think of anything else other than getting my mouth on him again. I’m a woman possessed. I want to tease and torture this man to his breaking point.
And by the way he’s watching my lips, I don’t think I have much further to go.