Page 45 of Isaia

His lips are rough, demanding, and there’s a desperate edge to the way he devours me—a dark, unrelenting ferocity that makes my breath hitch. But then his fingers thread through my hair, and his grip softens, a jarring contrast that makes my pulse race.

God, his taste—bourbon and sin, intoxicating and lethal. It floods my senses, leaving my head spinning and my resolve crumbling. His tongue glides against mine, every flick precise, deliberate, and when a low growl rumbles deep in his chest, it feels like he’s staking a claim.

Each touch, each movement, pulls me deeper under his control. His hands, rough and possessive, hold me firmly, their bruising grip anchoring me even as I feel like I’m unraveling. Hismouth moves with a relentless rhythm, stealing my breath, my thoughts, my everything.

The world fades, narrowing to this—his taste, his touch, the heat of his body against mine. Coherent thought slips away, replaced by a throbbing ache that consumes me, a need so fierce and overpowering it blots out everything else.

“Isaia,” I breathe, but he pulls me closer, his kiss deepening, and I gasp when he cups my breast, desire spiraling wildly.

Every inch of me pulses under his touch. It’s too much… and, somehow, nowhere near enough.

His thumb circles over the hardened peak, pulling a desperate moan from my lips.

“Keep making that sound and I’ll make sure you’re still feeling me tomorrow,” his hand drops between my legs, “right fucking here.”

Pleasure hits me, sharp and overwhelming, and my world tilts, spinning out of control. My fingers dig into his shoulders, clutching him as if he’s the only thing keeping me grounded, the only anchor in the storm he’s unleashed.

“Isaia, I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me you need me. How deep you want it.” His teeth graze my throat and my breath hitches.

“I…um…”

His fingers trace along the edge of my panties then push them to the side. “Jesus, Everly. You’re so fucking wet, my cock’s aching to slide into you.”

A finger prods at my entrance, and my body starts to sing under his touch, needing it inside me. “Isaia, this is…Oh, God…I’ve never done this before.”

He freezes, his fingers still right there, his eyes locked on mine with vibrating intensity. “What?”

Embarrassment floods me, and I swallow. “I’ve never…”

“Fucked?”

I bite my bottom lip, nodding, and he inches back a little, removing his hand from between my legs. I’m sure he’s about to laugh or turn and leave. A man like Isaia knows what he wants, and he can get it anywhere, with whoever, wherever. There’s no shortage of women for a man of his status; no denying he's accustomed to a level of experience I can't provide.

My heart stumbles, bracing for rejection, when he leans in and kisses me—slow and utterly devastating. His lips move against mine like he’s memorizing the shape of them, like he’s savoring every second. It’s not rushed or frantic; it’s controlled, intense, and so consuming it steals the air right out of my lungs, and my body aches everywhere as he reaches under my dress, hooking his fingers in the sides of my panties.

“Lift your hips for me.”

I’m barely able to breathe as I do what he says.

Slowly, he slides my panties down…down… his fingertips grazing my skin, leaving a trail of fire until the lace slips to the floor.

“Lay back.”

My pulse races. “What are you?—”

“Do it. All the way back,” he murmurs, firm but low.

I tremble, leaning back, the counter’s cool surface pressing against me. His hands find my ankles, guiding them apart, bending my knees, placing my feet on the counter, all while his lips leave soft, lingering kisses along the inside of my knee, trailing higher, driving me mad.

My breath quickens as he gently eases my thighs open. “Everly, has anyone tasted you”—his fingertip slides down my slick folds—“here?”

A strangled gasp escapes me. “No,” I whisper.

His warm breath caresses my thighs as he murmurs, “You’re going to make this so easy for me, aren’t you?” There’s the barest touch of his tongue against my pussy. “To blow your fucking mind.”

Without warning, his tongue sweeps through my slit, warm and velvet, igniting sparks everywhere as a moan rips from my chest.

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