Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eli
Consciousness seeps in slowly, and I sense her before I even open my eyes. The warmth of her gaze is familiar now, a presence that feels like it belongs. When I finally look at her, Isla’s green eyes are on me, soft and unguarded in the morning light filtering through my windows.
She’s propped up on one elbow, copper hair tumbling around her face, wearing one of my old Columbia t-shirts. The sight of her in my clothes still does things to me.
“Morning,” she murmurs, her voice low and lazy.
I don’t answer. I reach for her, pulling her down to me, my hand sliding behind her neck. Her lips meet mine without hesitation, tasting of coffee and something distinctly Isla.
This is what I want every morning—not just the physical closeness, but this quiet familiarity we’ve built. The way she fits into my life like she was never gone.
She shifts closer, her thigh sliding between mine, and the soft press of her body against mine sends heat curling low in my stomach. My fingers tighten in her hair as I deepen the kiss, taking my time, letting myself drown in her.
She hums against my lips, her hand skimming down my chest, her nails scraping lightly. I shudder.
“How long before the breakfast meeting?” she asks, teasing.
“Less than an hour,” I murmur against her mouth, cursing the time.
“Then we should make the most of it.”
The challenge in her voice is unmistakable. She leans in, biting my lower lip before pulling back with a smug little smile. That does it.
In one motion, I roll her onto her back, stripping the t-shirt from her body. She lifts her arms to help, and it falls to the floor beside the bed. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her.
“Damn, Isla,” I rasp.
She smiles, amused at my reaction, but her breath hitches when my hands skim her thighs, parting her legs. I kiss my way down, savoring the way she reacts to every touch, the way she sighs when my lips find the curve of her hip.
“Eli,” she gasps, fisting the sheets as my mouth moves lower.
I have every intention of making sure she forgets about that meeting.
“Eli, please...”
Her hips move with my touch, a soft whimper escaping her as my thumb presses against her clit.
I want to taste her. The thought reverberates through my mind, and I ease away from her lips, planting open-mouthed kisses down her neck, over the valley between her breasts, lingering at the swell of her cleavage.
My lips curve into a smile as I worship her body, and I suck one tight nipple into my mouth, rolling my tongue over the sensitive peak.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” she gasps, tangling her fingers in my hair.
I tug gently with my teeth, then soothe the sensation with my tongue, moving to pay her other breast the same attention. My hand never stops its movement between her legs, and her breath comes in quick pants as the coil inside her begins to tighten.
I move lower, kissing my way down her belly, hearing the rapid beat of her pulse where her body joins her thighs. Her taste is addictive, a mix of salt and woman, and I groan softly as I reach the juncture of her thighs.
Isla parts her legs wider, anticipation sparking in her eyes.
Her pussy is wet, glistening with her arousal, and I flick my tongue over her clit, earning a strangled moan.
She arches her back, lifting her hips, and I kiss and lick her slowly, reveling in the way she falls apart for me.
Her taste and scent are branded into my memory—a mix of honey and lust.
“Eli, more,” she begs, her hands fisting in my hair, her hips pushing into my face.
My name on her lips like that goes straight to my dick, and I groan in response, sucking her clit into my mouth and adding two fingers to rub her wet folds.
She’s so wet, and I slide them inside her without resistance, crooking them to find that one spot that makes her cry out and tighten around me.
I set a relentless pace, curling my fingers and sucking her clit as she bucks her hips, lost in the pleasure. I can feel her getting close, the muscles in her thighs tensing, and I redouble my efforts, needing to feel her come undone.
“Fuck, Eli!” she cries out, her walls clutching at my fingers as her orgasm washes over her.
I don’t stop, licking and sucking gently as she rides out the waves of her pleasure, until she’s trembling and breathless beneath me. She’s beautiful like this, all flushed skin and messy hair, and I want nothing more than to keep touching her, kissing her, until she comes apart again.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, reminding me of the time. I kiss a path back up her body, pausing to swipe my thumb over her swollen lips, before pulling away with a soft curse.
Isla’s eyes are hazy, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she catches her breath. “I hate that alarm.”
A soft laugh escapes me, and I plant one last kiss on her damp skin.
“I should turn it off.”
I shift to lie beside her, and she turns toward me, reaching for my hand and bringing it to her lips for a kiss. A jolt of pure desire shoots through me at the simple, intimate touch, and I squeeze her fingers gently.
“Half an hour,” I remind her, cursing the fact.
“Plenty of time,” she says, a wicked smile curving her lips. “Let me return the favor.”
Her fingers slide beneath the waistband of my boxers, tugging them down my hips. I lift up, helping her remove them, and they join our other clothes beside the bed.
Her gaze drops to my straining dick, and I don’t protest as she slides her hand down my torso, wrapping her fingers around my cock. Fuck, she has no idea how good that feels.
“Christ, Isla.”
I’m already struggling to hold back, wanting to thrust into her hand. Her grip is perfect, tight and just a bit rough, and her thumb swipes over the sensitive tip, making my knees weak. I hiss out a breath, and she smiles, tightening her grip again.
“Patience, sweetheart,” she murmurs.
Patience is the last thing on my mind as she works me with her hand, adding her other hand to stroke my dick. Isla’s always been a fast learner, and she quickly finds my rhythm, her thumbs teasing the sensitive vein on the underside of my dick.
“Isla, I’m not gonna last,” I warn her, even as my hips push into her touch.
Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she moves closer, leaning down to lick a stripe up the length of my cock. A strangled curse escapes me at the sensation, and I thread my fingers into her hair, urging her on.
“Fuck, your mouth,” I groan, my head falling back as she takes me deep, swirling her tongue and sucking gently. The muscles in my thighs tremble, and I’m already so close. My hips stutter as she hollows her cheeks, and I know I’m not going to hold on much longer.
Isla’s hand pumps the base of my shaft as she lifts her head, her eyes dark with arousal, a hint of challenge still lingering.
I reach for her, pulling her back up to kiss me, and she moans as I claim her mouth.
The sound goes straight to my dick, and I thrust into her hand, coming with a hoarse groan.
Her lips are soft and greedy against mine, swallowing my sounds as I spill into her hand, and she doesn’t let up, milking me through my orgasm until I’m left a boneless mess beneath her. She pulls back eventually, smiling with wicked satisfaction as she licks a stray drop of come from her fingers.
I’m still struggling for breath, my eyes closed, when I feel the soft press of her lips against my chest.
“That’ll teach you to say we don’t have time,” she teases.
A rough laugh escapes me, and I pull her down until she’s nestled against me, our legs tangled together.
“Remind me to schedule more morning meetings,” I murmur, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.
I can’t get enough of her, that much is clear. The way she gives herself to me—completely, unguarded—undoes me every time. And now, in the afterglow of our climaxes, my body is already responding to the desire that’s building inside me again.
I’m already hardening again, and the feel of her—the way she responds to my touch—feeds the building need inside me.
In one fluid motion, I flip us so she’s beneath me on the mattress, earning a surprised gasp that turns into a smile.
Her hands come to rest on my shoulders, offering silent encouragement as I settle between her thighs.
I slide inside her with one smooth thrust, filling her, and my eyes drift closed at the sensation. She’s tight and wet, and the muscles in my thighs tremble with the effort of holding back. I need to move, but I wait, wanting to draw this moment out.
Isla shifts beneath me, whispering my name, and I know she’s feeling the same need. Her walls flutter around me, milking my cock, and it’s all I can do to hold still.
“Please, Eli,” she begs, and I can’t deny her.
I pull out slowly, teasing us both, before thrusting back into her, claiming her fully. She’s so wet and ready, and the sensation is almost too much.
My hands slide up her thighs to grip her hips, and I set a relentless pace, wanting to brand her as mine. Isla meets me thrust for thrust, pushing back against me with every stroke.
I lean over her, capturing one of her hands to kiss her knuckles, and she moans softly, her body moving in perfect sync with mine. I angle my hips, seeking that one spot that will push her over the edge, and her breath hitches as I hit it.
I don’t let up, pounding into her, my hips flexing as I chase my own release. Isla cries out, her nails digging into my wrist, and I know she’s close again.
I want to see her when she comes, so I slide my hand between our bodies, finding her clit. I rub my thumb over it in time with the thrusts of my hips, wanting to take her with me this time.
Her walls clench around me, and she shatters, crying out my name as her release washes over her. The muscles in my thighs tremble with the effort of holding back, and I pound into her a few more times, following her over the edge.
I come with a hoarse groan, spilling myself into her as my hips still.
I’m dimly aware of her nails digging into my wrist, of her breathless gasps, and of her walls fluttering around me.
I’m buried deep inside her, and for a moment, I just breathe, relishing the feeling of being completely joined with her.
Eventually, I slide out of her, rolling onto my back and pulling her with me until she’s nestled against my side.
“Fuck,” I breathe, reaching up to tuck a damp strand of hair behind her ear.
She smiles, her eyes sparkling, and presses a soft kiss to my chest. “That was definitely worth being late.”
A rough laugh escapes me, and I thread my fingers through her hair, holding her close.
“Next time, I’m turning off my damn phone.”
“Mmm, definitely,” she agrees, her smile turning wicked. “In fact, I might confiscate your phone for the entire weekend.”
“That sounds like a dangerous proposition.”
“One worth considering.”
I pull her closer, my body already responding to the idea, and she laughs, the sound warm and intimate. We’re quiet for a moment, content to just breathe together, and I realize something in this moment.
“Isla...” I murmur, my fingers tracing slow circles against her back. I’ve said these words before, but right now, it feels different—like a promise instead of a confession, like something already woven into the fabric of us.
“I love you.”
Her lips curve into a slow, knowing smile, like she’s been waiting for me to say it again. Like she already knew. She brushes her thumb over my jaw, pressing a soft kiss to my chest.
“I love you, too.”
Our lips meet, the kiss gentle and full of promise, and I realize this is the beginning of something even more incredible—something worth fighting for.