Page 82 of Isaia

I shift uncomfortably, my fingers curling into the sheet around me. “I’m just saying maybe not everyone needs a constant reminder of their impending doom. Some of us like to focus onthe here and now without thinking about how it could all end at any second.”

His head tilts slightly, considering me. “And how do you appreciate the now if you forget how quickly it can be ripped away?”

“I don’t need a death sentence hanging over my head to appreciate life, Isaia.” My tone sharpens. “I’d rather enjoy the moment for what it is—not because it’s a countdown to the end.”

“Spoken like someone who hasn’t faced her own mortality.”

“Maybe not,” I admit, “but I’d rather live like there’s more to look forward to than just…nothing.”

His hand brushes mine, his touch grounding me despite the chill running down my spine. “Not nothing,” he murmurs. “Just the inevitable.”

“You should try living like the inevitable isn’t breathing down your neck. You might actually enjoy it.”

His lips curl into something that isn’t quite a smile but close enough to send a shiver of awareness racing through me. “You’re bold for someone who spent last night trembling under me.”

A surge of warmth floods my system, and all those insecurities I managed to forget for five seconds come rushing back, and I’m suddenly squirming to get some distance between us.

Isaia notices, and he snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. My gaze is flying everywhere except at his gorgeous face.

With his thumb on my chin, he forces me to look at him. “Everly?”

“Isaia?”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” It’s a clipped lie.

“You’re overthinking.”

“What would I be overthinking about?”

“Us.” He brushes his lips lightly against mine, making me shiver. “And I don’t like it.”

Before I can respond, Isaia kisses me, stealing the air from my lungs. The kiss starts slow, gentle, like he’s tasting a memory, making sure it’s real, thatI’mreal. Then it carries into something fierce, unapologetic—just like him.

His hand moves to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair, holding me where he wants me, and I clutch his shoulders, my nails digging in as his tongue claims me with rough, possessive intensity. He kisses like he owns me, branding me from the inside out. And I let him.

Everything inside me lights up. Kissing him, touching him, feeling him—it’s a high like nothing I’ve ever known.

He moves against me, making me aware of how hard he is.

“You feel that?” he murmurs against my lips. “That’s the only thing you should be thinking about.” I gasp as his teeth nip my bottom lip, sending a jolt of sensation down my spine. “And how fucking amazing it feels to have me deep inside you.”

His hand slides lower, gripping my hip, his thumb skimming bare skin, making me moan.

“Everly,” he groans, “I told you I’d let you heal before I take you again. But keep making those sounds, and I might have to breakthat promise.” He continues down my neck, kissing along my collarbone, setting every inch of skin he touches alight.

“Isaia?” I breathe, barely able to form the word.

“Yes, troublemaker?”

I swallow hard, my heart pounding. “Let’s say I’m…” His hand cups my breast, and my eyes flutter shut. “Overthinking something.”

“Out with it,” he demands, then laps his tongue all around my nipple in slow strokes.

“Oh, God,” I moan. “Yes…well, about last night. You know…I’m not exactly what you’d call…at your level of experience, and?—”

“Stop,” he cuts me off, his tone firm, commanding as he looks at me. “You think I give a fuck about yourexperience?About what you think you’re supposed to be like in bed?”

---