Page 21 of Isabela

Standing, she leaves the table, only to let her dress slip off her shoulders and to the floor. Fuck, I love when she does that.

Dropping to her hands and knees, she crawls to me, and I attempt to force any frustrations and thoughts of another woman away. I’ll just get Isabela’s schedule tomorrow and force her to speak to me.

Aria’s blonde head rises between my thighs, making my eyes hood as her small hands ghost up my legs.

“Please use my mouth, Daddy. I want to choke on your thick cock,” she murmurs, licking her lips.

I’ve never met anyone else who loves to suck my cock as much as my wife, and I doubt I ever will. I lose myself as her pretty pink lips wrap around the crown of my dick, grunting as I push my fingers into her thick blonde hair.

“So pretty,” I whisper. “You’re going to cry for me, your pussy will weep down your thighs, and you’ll beg me to fuck you. Goddamn, baby. You always know what I need.”

Aria preens before swallowing my cock, and I forget the world when she gags perfectly. Her blue eyes fill with tears as I hit the back of her throat over and over again, her fingers digging into my thighs as I fuck her throat.

“So fucking good,” I rasp.

Sometimes you have to walk away from your problems for your own sanity.

The next day, I throw myself into finding a way to get Isabela to give me the time of day. Her grades are all perfect, so there’s no reason for her to be called into the office by her program’s administrator.

She’s taking all advanced level math courses this semester, a religious studies class that’s a requirement for graduation, and a history course to take the place of the one she dropped.

Dr. Meadows teaches the class, and I decide to ask him if I can sit in one day this week. It’s Tuesday and Thursdays during a time I just happen to be free.

Orgasms are magical for clearing the mind of roadblocks.

My phone rings as I am wrapping up my day, making me sigh. Theodore Travers doesn’t micromanage how I get my job done typically, but Elijah Cohen is taking on some rather questionable clients lately.

He wants me to get Isabela on board immediately, so we can help her take over the company completely. The company’s board members are beginning to grumble.

I have no idea what she knows, because I fucked up my interactions so badly with her. I’m unused to people telling me no.

“Good morning, Theodore,” I say softly as I pick up the phone. Rising in my chair, I walk to the door and push it closed.

There are students and professors in the hallway, and I want to limit anyone from hearing my conversation.

“Good morning,” he says crisply. This is his usual tone, so I’m unbothered as I wait to hear the purpose for this call. “The new recruits appear to be settling in well from last semester. How are we doing with the ones entering initiation next month?”

I can practically hear the unasked question. How are we on the Isabela situation?

Next month, I am responsible for running the initiates through a series of tasks to see if they can hack it with us.

One of the most difficult ones for people is murder. If you can’t get your hands dirty with us, then you don’t deserve the power you’ll hold within The Society.

The only way to move forward is to kill someone in your life that’s part of your past and may be holding you back in some way. Those who don’t complete the task are cut loose, though they don’t seem to live very long after.

It’s a shame.

Thankfully, I have a ninty-eight percent conversion rate. I put my initiates through hell, and they are the perfect new soldiers for our needs. It’s why I’m still in my position. For now, anyway.

“We are moving forward,” I tell Theodore. “I need to touch base with Isabela Cohen. I fear we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, so I am making my amends. I know her presence and full support will be important in moving forward in our goals.”

“Yes, her uncle is a dreadful man,” Theodore sighs. “Any other reason why she would deny us?”

“I believe her uncle is currently hurting her,” I say honestly. “She dropped my class after an exam because I believe he beat her, and she didn’t want to face me after I put together the pieces.”

“He’s a bastard,” Theodore says grimly. “You know her parents were friends with my son. Harrison says the way they died never sat well with him. They went to the grocery store together after a day at the office. Leah and Ethan ran a red light and were hit by two cars in the intersection. They both died of their injuries.”

“They ran the light?” I ask curiously. “Were they typically reckless drivers?”

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