Page 52 of Isaia

She’s a goddamn addiction.

Chapter 16

EVERLY

The coffee shop door chimes as Isaia strides in, his presence filling the small space like a thunderstorm about to break. He doesn’t say anything at first, locks those intense, molten eyes on me, and I know—whatever this is, I don’t have a choice.

“Come with me,” he demands, leaving no room for argument.

“Isaia, I’m working.”

“You’re done for the day,” he replies, and before I can protest, he’s tugging my apron off and tossing it onto the counter like it’s irrelevant. “Let’s go.”

Nervous energy crackles through me as I grab my bag, my gaze locking with Molly’s, her eyes wide with questions.

The air outside feels heavier as I follow him to the curb, where his sleek yellow Ferrari is parked. It’s the kind of car that demands attention, that screams recklessness and wealth, and it suits him far too well.

I barely get the seatbelt on before the engine roars to life, vibrating through the leather seats. Isaia doesn’t look at me, his focus razor-sharp on the road as he pulls into traffic. The tension is suffocating, and I’m about to ask where we’re going when he says, “Open your legs.”

My head whips toward him, my pulse thundering. “What?”

“You heard me.” His tone is calm, but there’s an edge of command that makes my breath catch. “Spread your thighs.”

“Isaia, you’re driving.”

“And I’m not asking twice.”

Heat floods my face, and I glance at the road, watching as he maneuvers the Ferrari with practiced ease. My hesitation makes his jaw tighten. “Now, Everly.”

I don’t know what possesses me to obey, but my knees inch apart, the movement slow and tentative. Isaia’s hand leaves the steering wheel, his fingers brushing over my thigh. He hikes up my dress before gripping the inside of my leg, forcing it wider with a jerk. My breath hitches, and heat floods me.

“Have you touched yourself since last night?”

“Excuse me?”

His thumb skims higher, his touch deliberate and maddeningly light. “I want to know if you’ve made yourself come after I licked your cunt on your fucking kitchen counter.”

“That’s none of your?—”

“Answer the question, Everly.”

I bite my bottom lip, heat pooling low in my belly, my skin alive with anticipation. “Yes,” I whisper, thinking about how I slid my hand between my legs this morning, fantasizing about what would have happened if he didn’t leave.

Isaia’s grip on my thigh tightens, possessive and unyielding, his fingers digging into my flesh as if my admission has sparked something primal in him.

His jaw tics, and the low growl that rumbles in his chest sends a shiver straight down my spine, arousal flooding me.

“Of course you did,” he murmurs with a rough, velvet drawl. His thumb inches higher, brushing achingly close to where I’m desperate for him. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you? Touching yourself, thinking about my tongue inside you.”

“Isaia—”

“Did it feel as good as I made you feel?”

“No.” The word slips out on a shaky breath, my thighs trembling as his fingers trace the sensitive cleft of my inner thigh.

“Did you think about what my cock will feel like inside you?”

My breath hitches as I nod, the

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