Page 56 of Isaia

“What is this? Why are you even here?”

“Come here.”

“I’m not?—”

“Come. Here.” Each word is a command that speaks to the deepest parts of me, and my body trembles as I hesitate with a mix of fear and something darker, something that’s growing stronger with every second I’m near him. But I find myself moving, sliding off the bed and crossing the small space between us until I’m standing before him.

Suddenly, I’m hyperaware that the oversized shirt I'm wearing is not the most attractive outfit at the moment.

His eyes rake over me, dark and hungry. “Kneel.”

“Isaia, this?—”

He grabs my wrist, pulls me close, and his hand is under my shirt, palming my pussy, making me hiss as I suck air through my teeth.

“I said. Fucking. Kneel.”

My legs buckle before I can think, dropping to the floor between his spread thighs.

He leans forward, his hand gripping my chin, tilting my face so I’m forced to meet his gaze. “Good girl.”

He leans back and unbuckles his belt. Everything is charged with tension that makes my skin sing, his eyes never leaving mine as he reaches in and pulls out his cock. It’s hard, thick, veins snaking along its length, the head glistening as if daring me to taste.

A groan escapes his lips as he casually palms himself, the sight eliciting a strange thrill deep inside me. He’s devastatingly beautiful, exuding unrelenting power and a dominance so palpable it seizes the air around us, demanding submission.

“You see this, troublemaker?” He strokes his cock some more. “This is what’s waiting for you. What I’ll feed your pussy…inch…by inch until you’re full of nothing but me.”

My breath falters, my throat tightening. The world seems to shrink, the air heavy and charged, every sound blurring into a faint hum.

“You’re going to beg for it deeper, harder, faster while your cunt’s a fucking mess, throbbing and aching, driving you out of your goddamn mind.”

His words hit me like a spark to dry kindling, and my pussy clenches hard, a slick rush of heat flooding me as if my body is answering his promise before I can even catch my breath.

The throbbing ache he described? It’s already there, pulsing and insistent, demanding everything he just vowed to give.

My mouth goes dry as I take in the way his hand wraps around the base, stroking upward, gliding his thumb over the head, spreading a bead of precum.

“I can make myself come within twenty fucking seconds if you keep looking at my cock like that.”

My body reacts with a rush of heat before my mind catches up, a soft whimper escaping me, barely audible but loud enough for him to notice.

His gaze sharpens. “You want me to come…don’t you? You want to see me lose it—fucking wrecked and spilling just,” he pumps upward, “for,” all the way down, “you.”

The need is insane, so intense I’m sure I’ll come if he just breathes against my heated core.

“Hands on my thighs, baby girl.”

Swallowing hard, I place my trembling hands on his muscled thighs, and something stirs deep, an uptick in confidence sliding up my spine.

He’s holding his cock by the base, eyes dark and wild. “Open those pretty lips for me.”

Dominance radiates from him, seeping into my pores, and my lips part, my breath shallow and shaky. I lean forward without thinking, my lips brushing over the head in a tentative,featherlight touch, and the most erotic, primal fucking sound rumbles from his chest and rips out his throat, making my pussy clench so damn tight, I’m pretty sure I just came a little.

“Lick it,” he moans. “Slow, from base to tip, like you’re starved for it.”

My tongue flicks out, tracing every inch of him with leisurely strokes that leave a trail of heat in their wake. Each movement feels like a revelation, awakening something untamed and hungry inside me, something I didn’t know existed.

I can feel his gaze searing into me, and it only makes me want to give more, his musky, heady scent filling my senses, making me dizzy and desperate.

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