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“Am I…doing it right?” I looked away shyly. “I’m not sur—”

Isaiah’s hand came down on mine, and he wrapped my fingers around the thick base. He was warm, and I licked my lips. It was a little intimidating but fascinating, too. “You can’t really do it wrong.” He paused, taking our joined hands and rubbing it over the length of him. “I’m convinced you can’t do anything wrong, Gemma.”

Isaiah’s hand left mine once I got the hang of touching him. My grip grew a little tighter, and I watched as he grew thicker. His head flung backward, and the muscles along his neck were defined through the shadows of the room. After a few more seconds, he grabbed my hand and held it firmly. His breath was coming in short spurts, his large chest expanding quickly. “You have no idea how wild you drive me.”

Isaiah’s head dropped back down, and he locked onto my lips. He took my hands and placed them directly onto the desk, the cool wood washing away the heat along my palm that I had felt seconds before. Once I was firmly seated, he leaned into my personal space, his legs brushing against the insides of mine, and he grabbed the back of my skirt and lowered the zipper. “Lift up,” he said, breathing down into my personal space. I pushed myself up, hovering for just a moment before he rushed my skirt and panties down past my legs and over my ankles before depositing them to the floor with his clothes.

Another bout of cool air covered my skin, but it didn’t last long as Isaiah crowded me once more. His fingers splayed over my hips, and my head fell into his chest. It only took one swipe of his finger over my middle for me to buck my hips forward and for him to catch me in the process.

“Lie back, baby,” he whispered softly, pushing me gently so I was lying back on the desk again. My hair fanned out around me as he hovered over me, pulling me just a few inches closer to him so my legs were dangling all the way off the desk. He reached down for a split second, and I heard the crinkling of a wrapper before he popped back up and gripped my legs. He drove his gaze into me with a firm jaw. “I should stop this right here and right now, but I fucking can’t.”

I swallowed the nerves and licked my lips. “Please don’t stop. I need this.”

He gritted his teeth. “This might hurt for a second.” His mouth was right above mine, and I had to force myself to lie back so I wouldn’t kiss him. “But I promise you, I will make you feel good. Just like on Monday. Do you trust me?”

There was absolutely no hesitation on my part. I nodded quickly as he ran a finger over the side of my face. His hand gripped my chin, and his mouth covered mine, taking away any thought I may have had. His tongue swept over every inch of my mouth, making me spin, before I felt him at my center. He pushed in slowly and paused, pushing up on his forearms to glance down at me. “You okay?”

I swallowed and nodded as his finger trailed past my neck and down my chest. Isaiah had one of his hands gripping my hip and the other moved over to my left breast. He shot me a sexy grin before lowering his head and kissing the tight bud, causing a rush to sweep over my body. I inhaled sharply, meeting him with a small thrust. A pinch of pain came from below as he pulled up and shot me a look. “Careful. Trust me when I say we need to go slow. You’re tight, and I have every intention of taking care of you”—his stare grew hooded as he pushed in a little further—“and making you come so hard you’ll never be the same.”

His words were a little dirty, and it did nothing but make me sweat. I nodded sharply as he came down and crushed his lips to mine again, and this time, the sweetness from earlier was a little more bitter. Our kisses turned urgent, and my breasts pushed up and met his naked chest. A grumble of a sound rumbled out of him and echoed over my mouth, and that was when I felt the fullness of him. He’d pushed in even more, and our middles met. I felt him everywhere. In every inch of my body. In every space inside my head. We stayed like that for a few seconds, his forehead pressed to mine, a bead of sweat running over the p

erfect curve of his cheek. I moved first, curving my hips up to his for a moment to test the waters. I couldn’t believe it was happening. I couldn’t believe that somehow Isaiah and I had ended up like...this. It was nothing I’d ever expected, and it seemed to happen so quickly, but I was ready. I hadn’t known I was ready, but I was. Every interaction I’d had with him from the very beginning felt different. Like we were connected somehow. My body seemed to twist in certain ways when he looked at me from across the hall. And maybe, deep down, my soul begged for him to mend mine. Because that was what it felt like. It felt like Isaiah was taking my deepest scars that laid ever so painfully over my soul, and he was healing them. He was replacing the bad with the good. He was giving me the light, showing me that there was so much more out there than what I’d been given.

“Gemma, goddamnit.” Isaiah pulled up, and his hands flew to my hips. His fingers dug into the skin, and I loved it. I loved it so much. I felt alive. He could rip me apart, and I would still feel myself piecing together. “I have to go slow, or I’ll hurt you. You need to adjust to me.”

I wiggled myself under him again, feeling something click into place. I was ready to take what he was giving. I was freeing myself, letting loose to enjoy what I was feeling. My hands found his biceps, and I gripped them hard as I pushed closer to him. His eyes grew frantic, and his mouth opened and then closed. “That doesn’t hurt?” he asked, moving my hips slowly before he began pushing farther into me.

“No,” I rushed out, arching my back. “My body wants this, Isaiah. It wants you.” It did. My body knew what was right and what was wrong. And this? This was right. It felt too good to be wrong.

“Fuck.” His mouth fell to mine again, our teeth clanking together. His hips started to move as his arm came around my lower back to steady me. My hair was woven between his fingers as he dug his palm through the strands, and we were in a frenzy. My hips fell apart, his body moving over mine in the most scandalous of ways. “I’m already about to come. You’re…” He leaned in and pulled my lip with his teeth, and I whimpered as I felt my body tensing beneath his. “You’re so wet and hot, and tight, and fuck me if I’ll ever be able to live without this.” His hand left mine, and he pushed it in between us. I felt the pad of his thumb rub over me, and I wanted to keep watching him. I wanted to watch his eyes roam over my body like I was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen, but it was too much. His skin against mine. The fulfillment I felt with him inside me. The way my body pulled and pushed and sang. I moved underneath him, finding the best way to ride how he was filling me, and then I felt it. I felt the wind up. I felt my body twist and curve. The heat started at my head, and all it took was one little movement from my hips and his mouth over my breast, and I was falling. I was falling fast. Isaiah mumbled a curse as he lifted from my tightened nipple and his teeth grazed my neck before he sucked on the skin, and I saw stars.

I felt everything break and come back together again. The wave of pleasure and nothing else was like a drug. It felt so good. He felt so good. Even more so when he stilled above me, making a noise that I would take with me when I left and replay on my loneliest nights. And that was how we stayed. We stayed like that for so long the sweat dried on our skin.

I couldn't move. I couldn’t even look at him. I just lay there, completely and utterly sated and…content. I’d never felt so worshiped or…loved. That was the only way I could describe it. Loved. I knew nothing about love, but I felt emotion bubbling up. The realness of it. The raw feeling of a mutual connection.

Eventually, Isaiah pulled out of me. I knew it because I felt the sting and soreness come in crashing waves. But I still couldn’t form sentences. I was too afraid of what I would say. My eyes opened briefly as I saw Isaiah hovering over me with a wet paper towel that he must have grabbed from the sink in the clean-up corner of the room. “I’m just going to clean you up. Is that okay?”

I smiled softly and nodded. The cool water felt good against my middle as he wiped me gently, and it made me want to reach out to him and hug him. Isaiah was so much more than what was at the surface. I kept my lips sealed, still too afraid I would say something that would be wrong, and my eyes were so incredibly droopy. They closed a few times as I lay on the desk as Isaiah ran the paper towel over me. My clothes came next, the feel of my panties sliding up my legs slowly then my skirt. The straps of my bra went over my shoulders, and Isaiah pulled me up by my hand, clicking it into place.

When I finally snuck a glance at him as he was buttoning some of my buttons, I saw that he was dressed—well, sort of. His pants were still undone at the waist, but he had his shirt on. When I managed to meet his face, he was staring down at me, expressionless. The blues of his eyes were soft, his mouth relaxed. His hands slowly came up, and he cupped the sides of my cheeks, and my heart was suddenly back to life. It raced as we silently said things neither of us wanted to say aloud.

We knew this was bigger than anything we’d ever felt before.

At least I did.

His thumb brushed over the arch of my cheek, and he shook his head slowly. “What am I going to do now, Gemma?”

My voice broke as I tried to speak words, but I ended up coming up empty-handed. Instead, I shrugged, knowing what he was referring to. There was no future for us. At least none that I could see.

I didn’t know what this meant. Or if it meant anything at all. Nothing was changing. Richard was still a threat. Tobias was still missing, and I was determined to find him. It wasn’t like Isaiah could come with me, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have his own problems to deal with. He’d already told me once before that we’d crash and burn, and I was beginning to see that he was right.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Isaiah

My back ached. It hurt so fucking bad it felt like I’d slept at a nintey-degree angle all night. But I was warm. I was warm, and there was something so peaceful about the way I felt. Why did I feel so content? The first thing I’d always felt when I woke up in the morning was irritation and anger because I wasn’t in my childhood bedroom but rather in a dorm room at St. Mary’s, acting as an errand boy for my father. But this was different. There was a bright light flashing in my eyes, causing my brows to crowd, and then I felt a slap on my head, and my eyes immediately opened. Who the fuc—

Cade’s big brown eyes drove into mine, and I saw two things I’d only seen a handful of times: panic and anger. “Get the fuck up, now,” he seethed out in a whisper.


Tags: S.J. Sylvis Romance