Page 39 of Isaia

Hmm, my little troublemaker needs a nudge.

I bring my elbow above her shoulders, firmly planting my arms against the wall on either side of her face, our gazes locked, my body barely touching hers. “What if I said you should have left town?”

She swallows, the gentle bob of her throat catching my eye, drawing me in. “I’ll tell you that I can make my own decisions,” she murmurs, soft but steady.

I slide my thigh between hers, watching as her lips part, her breath catching. I bite down on my lip, holding back for justa second, then press higher, giving her the exact pressure I know her body needs. “How long will you last before you realize exactly what you’ve stepped into?”

“What did I step into?” She raises her chin, a show of defiance, but her eyes tell tales of sin.

“You stepped into my world, and in case you haven’t figured it out, I’m the kind of bad you don’t walk away from.” I press my body to hers, rubbing my thigh against her pussy, pressing harder, and she parts those thighs of hers just a little more.

Her hands are against my chest, but she doesn’t push me away. Instead, her fingers curl slightly, gripping my shirt as if anchoring herself.

“Isaia, what are you doing?” She’s breathless, and I feel the slightest move of her body against mine like she wants something, but she’s too scared to ask for it.

Lowering my mouth to the side of her neck, her scent floods my senses—an addictive, delicate blend that teases the air around her. It’s fresh and sharp, the green bite of grapefruit layered with something sweeter, softer, with an airy undertone of jasmine. It’s not just a scent; it’s a magnetic, intoxicating thing, each note subtle but irresistible.

My lips brush against the shell of her ear. “You should have left when you had the chance.” She never had a chance. The darkness that clings to me, mixed with the curiosity this woman stirs, wouldn’t have let her get far. If she ran, I would have found her and dragged her back to where she is now. Willing or unwilling.

“Maybe I don’t wanna leave,” she murmurs. “Maybe a walking red flag is my thing.”

“You’ve got no idea what you’re letting in,” I rasp, my hand sliding up her thigh, fingers digging in just enough to leave a memory.

“What is it you call me?” Her eyes are wide, that fire flickering, daring me, begging me. “Troublemaker.”

A fierce jolt of heat surges through me, and I seize her waist, spinning her around, pulling her back flush against my chest. One hand finds her throat, fingers curling possessively, while the other grips her hip, pressing her right into me.

She gasps, her breath hitching, and I don’t hold back, flexing hard against her so she can feel exactly what she’s doing to me. “You’d better be careful, Everly. Troublemakers like you get tangled up in things they shouldn’t.”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“Neither the fuck did I. But here we are.” My grip tightens, fingers pressing into the delicate fabric of her dress, my rough hand sliding over the curve of her waist. “God,” I breathe heavily, “why do I want you so much?”

She shudders against me as I move my hand up, cupping her breast, the softness under my palm almost undoing me.

Her reaction is instant, a gasp escaping her that fuels the fire burning between us. It’s like heat and lightning are rolling off her in waves, pulling me under, each sound she makes fanning the flames higher.

“Isaia,” she rasps, and the shiver that runs through her only stokes the heat between us, “what’s happening?”

“What’s happening,” I grit out, dropping my hand to her thigh, winding up the fabric of her dress in my palm, “is that you’regetting under my fucking skin. And all I can think about is what it would feel like to be inside you. How tight you’d be around me. How I wouldn’t be able to stop once I’m in.”

Her breathing is ragged, every exhale a heated crackle of desire, and I move lower, hand trailing between her thighs, and the second I feel that damp spot on her panties, I nearly lose my fucking mind.

A rumble of lust rises in me, low and primal. “Let me inside this body of yours, Everly. Let me make you feel good.”

“No,” she breathes, but it's not so much a denial as it is a whimper reverberating through her throat, her body thrumming against mine like a charged wire.

I flex against her and press my fingers harder against that wet spot. “Do you feel it? That ache? That need? It’s only going to get worse.”

“Isaia, please.”

“Let me fuck you, little troublemaker.” I’m rubbing my cock up and down her ass, and I swear I can come like this.

“Isaia, no.” She reaches down, sliding her hand over mine that’s still between her legs. Her palm lingers there a beat, then gently guides it higher. “Not like this.”

A raw, guttural groan rips up my throat, the kind that comes from that pure, unrestrained need to fuck.

I let go, then she’s gone, slipped out of the office without a second glance, the door clicking shut behind her and leaving me alone, with this brutal pounding in my cock, aching like a motherfucker.

---