Twenty-Seven
Theo
“ W here should I unwrap my present, Sunshine?”
Desk. Wall. Floor.
Edge of the fucking world.
I’ll take her anywhere. Want her everywhere.
“On the bed? Surrounded by my gifts?” There’s a hint of hesitation, but it’s not fear that flashes in her voice. It’s curiosity.
She’s testing me. Confirming I’ll respond the way that meets her needs.
“That sounded like a question. Say it like you mean it.”
Her spine straightens. Challenge glints in her eyes. “On the bed,” she repeats, firmer this time. “Play with your new toy on the bed.” She shoots me a proud little grin.
“ Shit , Isla.” My pulse kicks up and my body tenses, waiting for the go-ahead to pounce. “Get on.”
She backs up, eyes never leaving mine. When she reaches the edge of the mattress, she sinks down with a soft sigh. Her legs dangle, toes grazing the carpet.
“Take off your underwear,” I instruct.
She leans back and lifts her hips, hooking her thumbs into the waistband.
What happens next isn’t a simple removal of undergarments. It’s a fucking ceremony. A measured, explicit performance of power disguised as surrender.
Once the scrap of fabric hits the floor, she resettles.
Her thighs squeeze together, pelvis tilting in a slow, desperate grind. Then another. She lets out a pouty little whine when the movements fail to satisfy her needs.
My cock jerks under the restraint of my jeans, volunteering for duty.
Her bold gaze drops to my erection, pink tongue flicking out to wet her lips.
For one wild, unhinged second, I indulge the fantasy that assaults my thoughts.
Isla on her knees, unzipping me with her teeth, mouth open wide, tongue out and waiting.
Swallowing hard, I refocus my attention to the task at hand.
Literally .
“Spread your legs, Sunshine. Show me my pretty prize.”
A breathy laugh escapes her as she scoots higher on the bed. Her knees part in invitation, but the hem of the shirt obscures my view.
“ Wider , Isla.” I step closer, looming over the bed. “Make it worth my while.” I manage to keep my voice and movements on a tight leash, but on the inside? I’m a feral beast .
“Last night ruined me. I can’t stop picturing how you looked.
Open. Dripping. Glowing. I want to see you like that again.
Need to touch you. Taste you. Bury myself in your scent and hear you scream my name.
I’ll invent a sixth fucking sense if that’s what it takes to make you mine. Will you let me?”
My words spark an immediate response. A fresh surge of power saturates her gaze.
She hikes the shirt higher, bunching it at her ribs.
I hold my breath as she blooms open for me .
Knees bent. Feet braced wide. Lust laid bare.
My stalker of a shadow swallows her whole as I lean over to indulge in the view. “I want to see how badly you want it.”
“So, so badly,” she whispers, hand sliding down her stomach. Two fingers slip between her legs, and she parts herself slowly, gifting me with a view that brands itself onto my brain.
I don’t bother biting back a depraved groan.
This image of her—wet, wanting, mine —will live inside me forever.
“That’s it,” I murmur. “Let me taste how much you need me.”
She shivers, offering up her hand, flaunting the slick proof of her arousal.
My mouth waters. I take her wrist, lift her fingers to my lips, and suck. Tongue twisting around her taste, I lap up every drop of her rich, heady excitement.
“Perfect.” The word is a throaty growl. My next line? Bitten out between groans. “Every. Drop. Of. You.”
Isla moans out a delightful little noise that shoots straight through me.
I reach down and palm my cock.
Grip. Adjust. Breathe.
Don’t fucking come .
Her hand remains my hostage. I keep licking until she’s whimpering and writhing beneath me.
Another sugary moan punctures the air. That’s when I clock her rogue hand. It’s slipped between her thighs, traitorous fingers circling her clit, chasing release.
If her sharp, erratic pants are anything to go by, she’s close. Very, very close.
Truthfully?
So am I.
It’d be easy to give in—hold her down with just my stare, watch her fall apart while I stroke myself then paint her pussy with the evidence of her ownership.
But if I allow that to happen? This ends before it even has a chance to begin.
I’m not willing to let her go that quickly.
I trap her hand with mine, dragging it away as I take over.
“Next time, I want the full show. You can wear that tiny costume from your last solo performance.” Teasing her entrance with one finger, I let the tight throb of her body guide me as I ease in with just enough pressure to make her hips jerk.
“And, from now on, don’t even think about touching yourself in anyone’s bed but mine.
If you’re coming under this roof, it’s my sheets you’re soaking. Do you understand?”
Her eyes widen. They’re so dark, only the thinnest rim of color is left uncorrupted by lust. Her mouth opens. Shuts. Opens again. She looks like she’s in the middle of a full-on system crash.
When she finally speaks, her voice is so soft and breathless I have to lean in to catch it. “I’ve already soaked your sheets. Many times.”
It’s my turn to glitch. “What?”
“Your bed and I have a history. ”
I blink. “Elaborate. Before I start putting my own creative spin on things.”
“Every Christmas you didn’t show,” she says, biting down on her lip, “I stayed in your room. Your scent…that’s how it started. I— ah —” She chokes on the next word because I swipe my thumb over her clit. “I imagined you. Always.”
“I’m going to need a full demonstration,” I tell her, rubbing faster. “You’re going to give me a play-by-play of how you fucked yourself while thinking about me. Narrate every dirty detail I missed. I’ve got a lot of Christmases to catch up on.”
She swallows. “Right now?” Her hand flexes slightly, like she’s waiting for permission.
“No.” I catch her wrist. “I’m in a selfish mood tonight. I don’t want to share my toy.” I tap the spot above her head. “Hands up here. Let me play.”
She complies eagerly. Then she fists the pillow, spreads her thighs wider, and offers herself to me without hesitation.
A breathtaking display of obedience.
“Good girl.” I reward her with two fingers.
“Theo!” My name tears from her like a sacred offering.
Emboldened, I press deeper, pushing through the clutch of warmth.
She arches up on a gasp, trembling from the stretch but clamping down like she never wants me to leave. Her head falls back, hair fanning out in a ring of fire.
“ Please …” Soft, broken whimpers come tumbling out as she rolls her hips to meet my every thrust.
I live for the way she begs, so I give her what she wants.
More pressure. More intensity. More of me.
The slick sound of her body accepting me is obscene. Deeply fucking addictive. She’s soaked, quaking, her cinnamon-scented skin glazed in a sheen of sweat .
Isla Greene—radiant in her ruin.
The curl of my fingers earns me the sweetest moan, and when I thrust harder, she bucks off the bed, gasping for air.
“Don’t hold back, Sunshine. Let go. Make a mess on my hand.”
Her muscles seize, pulsating around my fingers.
“Show me how pretty you look when you come.”
She unravels, mouth parting in a stunned little O as she cries out my name.
Working her through the spasms, I hold her hips down with my free hand as she writhes beneath me. I keep going until all that remains of my name are wrung-out whimpers.
The sounds instantly have me hovering on the cusp of my own undoing.
But it’s not just the noises she’s making. Every one of my senses is drunk on her.
I’m an Isla addict with no interest in recovery.
“ Theo …” she pleads, lip caught between her teeth, thighs squeezing my wrist like she’s trying to trap the aftershocks.
An instinct born of gratitude. Also… greed .
My girl is clearly not done.
Leaning in, I mold my body over her trembling frame. “Again,” I growl, circling her clit with just enough pressure to make her whimper. “One more.”
“What?” She shakes her head. “I— Theo . I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or don’t want ?” My fingers still. “If you don’t want to keep going, say the word and I stop. Immediately.”
I give her time to find my steady gaze and process her options.
“But if you just think you can’t…” I lean in, breath brushing her mouth. “Let me prove you wrong. Trust me to take care of you. ”
She shudders, but the look she gives me isn’t laced with fear. It’s full of faith. And desire.
“ Please . Please, keep going.”
That’s all I need.
Bringing my mouth down to hers, I seize a kiss I’ve been denying myself and start to move my hand again. Now that I’ve mapped the terrain of her body, my touch is sharper and more precise.
Having learned what makes her shudder and twitch, I use the knowledge against her.
Or, rather, for her.
I switch pace. Play with pressure. Lure her up toward bliss and prime her for the fall. All the while, I kiss her like the future of humanity depends on the very act.
My tongue fucks her mouth to the beat of my racing pulse, each stroke matching the tempo of my fingers. Every part of my body works in tandem to break her down, build her up, and make her mine.
Isla’s lips return the favor just as feverishly. Like it’s also a matter of survival on her end.
She fists my shirt, clawing me closer, erasing all space between us.
I let her use me. Devour me. Steal the breath straight from my lungs.
“I…” She exhales. “I need…” Her fingers slide to my belt, but when she fails to undo the clasp, she palms me through my jeans instead.
I groan against her mouth, nerve endings lighting up. My hips jerk, betraying me with the greedy way they grind into her touch .
“Wait,” I growl, pulling her hand away even as my cock aches for contact. “I want to come buried inside you. Right where I belong.”
It’s a promise I fully intend to keep.
“But first…” Shifting my weight, I pin her wrists above her head. My other hand slips deeper, and I add a third finger, gritting my teeth at the tight fit. “You’re not done. Give me one more.”
Her muscles clench, and with the added pressure, she soaks my hand in seconds.
“You’re doing so well,” I murmur against her lips. “Hear how wet you are? Feel yourself dripping for me?”
“ Theo …” She squeezes her eyes shut.
“Look at me.” I pinch her clit lightly, forcing her to stay focused. “Your body is saying you’re mine, isn’t it?”
Her moan spikes through me, rattling my senses, shoving at my self-control.
“Tell me you’re mine, Isla,” I grit out, trailing kisses down the soft line of her throat.
“I—”
I seal my mouth over her pulse, drawing out a broken whimper.
“ Theo .”
“Say it, Sunshine.” My teeth sink straight into her heartbeat.
“ Yours ,” she cries.
Then she’s chanting it— over and over —as she drenches my fingers, and I carry her through every last wave.
Even as she descends from the high, she stays open.
Eyes wide. Walls down.
For me.
And fuck if that’s not everything.
I press my palm to her chest .
My name. Her heartbeat.
“ Mine. ”
I kiss her again, breathing the pledge into her skin.
Always was. Always will be.