Page 105 of Isaia

I’ve thanked him for his cum four times tonight, and the submission to his demand felt…natural. Good. Especially when I saw his eyes flash with something dark and primal every time I said it, and the praises he’d whisper into my ear.

It’s like he’s woken something inside me that’s always been there—dormant, silent, waiting…for him.

Isaia turns to me, his dark eyes locking on mine in the dim light, filled with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe.

“You’re quiet,” he murmurs, his tone rich and full of the same unrelenting control that has me teetering on the edge of something I can’t name.

“I’m…processing,” I admit, my fingers nervously twisting the hem of my dress where it pools in my lap.

He leans back slightly, studying me like he’s trying to crack open my mind and sift through its secrets. “Processing what, exactly?”

“You.”

His lips curl into a dangerous smirk, a flicker of satisfaction lighting his eyes. “You’re good at that, aren’t you?”

“Good at what?”

“Overthinking.” He shifts closer, reaching to trace the mark on my neck where he bit me. “I want you lying in bed tonight, wearing nothing but my marks while you think of me. Only me.”

Isaia pulls back just enough to press a lingering kiss to my temple, his hand sliding down to gently squeeze my thigh.

“Go inside, troublemaker,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my skin. “Before I lose my restraint and take you right here in this car, and I’m not sure your body can handle more of me tonight.”

Judging by the dull ache between my legs, the way I’m reminded of what we did on that balcony when I walk, I’d say he’s right.

I swallow, my thoughts racing. “Thanks for not murdering Anthony tonight.”

“It’s a postponement.”

“Isaia.”

He shrugs. “If he values his life and wants to keep breathing, then he needs to stay at least two states away from you at all times.”

I roll my eyes. “You should tone down that possessive setting you’re on, Mr. Del Rossa.”

“Not a fucking chance.”

I open the door and step out into the cool night air. My legs feel like jelly as I walk to the front door, acutely aware of his eyes following my every step.

“Everly?”

I turn to look at him.

“Lock your door.” The way his lips tilt upward just enough to carry an edge of danger, hinting at dark, sultry promises has my heart fluttering in my chest, and I smile as he drives off, hoping like hell he breaks into my house tonight.

I slide my key into the lock and hear Luna bark, but she sounds far. She’s definitely not on the other side of the door. Confused, I walk inside and shut the door behind me, flicking on the light, the sudden brightness making me squint.

“Luna?” I call. “Where are you, Luna-bug?”

My steps falter as I glance toward the kitchen, expecting to see her scrambling toward me like always. But she doesn’t come. The house feels…wrong. Off. Too quiet.

“Everly.”

“Jesus!” I leap back, my heart slamming against my ribs as my hand flies to my chest. “Michele.”

“What would your mother think if she knew you were out with a boy at this ungodly hour?”

Every nerve in my body screams at me to turn and run, but I plant my feet, gripping the back of the chair near the door to keep myself steady.

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