Page 39 of The Forbidden Billionaire Attorney

“Fair enough. You first,” I say, my voice low.

I peel away her bra and panties with deliberate slowness, each kiss I place on her exposed skin an unspoken promise. The air is thick with desire, scented with roses and the warm wax of candles. My hands memorize her curves, mind already etching this moment into memory—where the armor falls away, and all that’s left is Isabella: fierce, vulnerable, mine.

“Yes ...” she whispers, and even her voice feels like silk against my skin.

I guide her onto the bed with a tenderness that belies my pulse racing beneath the surface. There’s a reverence in the way she lies back against the pillow, her hair fanning out like some sort of medieval halo. I open her legs with a careful curiosity, exploring the territory as if I’m charting new lands—lands where the treasure is the hitch of her breath and the soft gasps that escape from her lips.

“Adrian,” she warns, a playful threat in her tone that makes me grin, but I’m not deterred.

“Patience,” I murmur, kissing around her navel, her hips, the insides of her thighs, anywhere but where she’s dying for me to be. It’s all about the build-up, the anticipation—drawing out her pleasure until she’s practically vibrating under my touch.

With a devilish smile, I let my fingers dance across her clit, light as a tease. She moans, and it’s music, really—the best damn symphony to play in the background of this moment.

“Your pussy is beautiful,” I say, half in awe, half because I know it’ll make her blush even in the dim candlelight.

“Adrian ...” she groans, half exasperation and half pure need as I drop my head down and replace my teasing fingers with my tongue. The flick of my tongue elicits a sharp cry from her, and I can’t help the smugness that swells within me.

“Good?” I ask without stopping, the vibrations of my voice adding another layer to the sensation.

“God, yes,” she breathes out.

Her body squirms, and I hold her thighs steady, grounding her as I add a finger into the mix.

“Oh, fuck,” she cries out, and I can’t suppress the thrill that rockets through me at her raw pleasure.

“Enjoyingyourself?” I quip, though it’s clear she’s miles beyond words now. Another finger joins the first, and I watch—fascinated—as she plays with her breasts, her movements growing more frantic, more urgent.

“Please don’t stop,” she pleads, and I have no intention of doing so.

Her walls begin to tighten around my fingers; I can feel the build-up of her release, a ticking time bomb of ecstasy. I pick up the pace, eager for the explosion, and when it comes, it’s cataclysm.

I slow my fingers, still inside her, prolonging the aftershocks of her orgasm as I gently suck on her clit. Her breaths are soft, contented sighs now. With a final kiss against her sensitive skin, I withdraw my hand and climb up her body, hovering over her.

“Come here,” she murmurs, pulling me into a kiss that’s all heat and gratitude. She tastes herself on my lips, a hint of salt and sweetness, and there’s an edge of pride knowing she savors it. Slipping my wet fingers between us, Isabella licks them clean, eyes locked on mine, and damn if that isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

With careful precision, I align myself with her welcoming warmth, pushing into her slowly, savoring the moment. Our foreheads touch, breaths mingling in the tiny space between us. Each thrust is met with a soft moan from Isabella, a sound that stirs something deep within me.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she gasps, and I can’t help but answer with a groan of my own as I lift her legs onto my shoulders, delving even deeper. The new angle has her back arching, our cries mingling in the candlelit room. Pleasure coils tight in my gut, and I know we’re both close.

“Isabella,” I groan as she clenches around me, her second orgasm rippling through her. It’s enough to send me over the edge, and I follow her into blissful oblivion.

As we come down, our laughter fills the room—a private joke about how well we play each other’s bodies like favorite instruments. We meet in another kiss, softer this time, lingering. There’s an unspoken truth hanging between us, a depth to what’s happening that goes beyond physical satisfaction. And while neither of us may be ready to voice it, it’s there, undeniable and growing stronger with every shared breath.

Chapter fifteen

Isabella

The sun is throwing a party in the sky, all bright and cheery, and I’m strutting into the office riding that same high vibe. Last night’s dinner with Adrian and my folks? A hit. We’re talking home runs, fireworks, the works. And here I am today, floating on cloud nine because this whole unconventional family unit might not be headed for a spectacular nosedive.

I breeze past Kate’s desk, her smile mirroring mine, and my heels click-clack a rhythm that says, “Girl, you’ve got this.” But then there’s Adrian, Mr. Play-It-Cool, leaving our relationship status dangling like a participle. Makes a girl wonder—if he’s really into me, wouldn’t he be pulling out all the stops instead of playing hot potato with the commitment grenade?

Shaking my head as I step into my office, I resolve to keep my eyes on the prize. Today is about wins, not what-ifs. So what if Adrian’s acting like he’d only shack up with me because I’m carrying his surprise bun in the oven? Forget labels. We’re good. Great, even.

“Focus on the now,” I mutter to myself, tossing my bag onto my desk with more sass than necessary. Just as I’m about to dive into theday’s legal jungle, my phone decides it’s the perfect moment to burst my bubble—chime!

“Breaking news” flashes across the screen, and it’s not the latest cat video going viral. Nope, it’s about the merger. The financial docs I tagged last week as MIA are officially making their debut all over the press like they’re strutting down the red carpet.

“Those documents were leaked? But how?”

---