Page 154 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
My breath hitches halfway between my lungs and my throat when the white-washed door is pushed open. The first thing my gaze locks in on is a canopy of trees swaying in the breeze above the glass ceiling. Potted plants and hanging pots cover nearly every free surface, and a double-headed shower sits on the right-hand side wall. The backsplash has been done with smooth pebble rocks, adding a touch of allure to the rustic design of the space. Bamboo walls cover three sides of the room, leaving one remaining wall, which is made entirely out of glass, providing endless views of the dense forest the cabin backs on to.
When I notice a copper clawfoot tub sitting in front of a glass wall, my eyes shoot to Isaac in silent questioning. A devilish smirk tugs his lips high before he nods. After placing me onto the speckled white stone countertop, he turns the bathtub faucets on full blast. Jasmine and lilies filter in the air when he places fragrant bath products into the massive flow of water.
Once the tub is full, he toes off his shoes, kicks them to the side, then pivots around to face me. Tears once again well in my eyes, but this time they’re from the tender possessiveness in his unique eyes.
“Isabelle… don’t. Please don’t cry.”
Isaac crosses the room with a sense of urgency, reaching me in less than a breath. His thumbs brush away the tears before they fall on my face as his eyes nurture me as only they can. The steam from the water flowing into the bathtub and the heat radiating off him soon have my cheeks flushing.
The longer I stare into his mesmerizing eyes, the more my mind is freed of the horrific incident I witnessed. In no time at all, it's just the man who wakes my every sense with nothing but the brush of his fingertip and me.
The air shifts when he glides the back of his hand down my cheeks. He knows what has caused their change in coloring. He knows what he does to me. When his index finger traces my lips, his touch is so tender, it can barely be classified as a touch. It’s like a cloud floating by my face—soft and gentle.
When my teeth graze the pad of his finger, the ache gnawing my chest lowers to my soaked sex. He tastes delicious. Manly, yet oh-so-perfect. A needy, animalistic groan rips from Isaac’s throat when I suck his finger into my mouth. He stares down at me with lusty eyes before taking a step back, freeing his finger from my mouth.
“I need to take care of you.”
“You are.” My voice is a husky whisper, full of unmissable yearnings. “In the best way you know how.”
For the first time, a wash of hesitation crosses Isaac’s face.
“I want this,” I whisper breathlessly as my eyes dance between his. “I want you.”
As I undo the buttons on his suit jacket, I keep my eyes planted on him. He maintains my eye contact until the very last button is unclasped. When I shimmy his coat off my shoulders, air hisses between his teeth. His gaze is hungry and wanton, and one hundred percent focused on me.
After flicking off my ballet flats, I pop down from the counter. I pace toward him with my hips swinging and my eyes wide, not the least bit confronted that I’m standing before him in mismatched panties and a push-up bra. I didn’t expect to see him this weekend, so I didn’t pack for the occasion. If the unbridled look of lust in his eyes and the massive bulge in the crotch of his pants is anything to go by, I don’t think he’s noticed my silk bra doesn’t match my cotton panties.
I sway when I stand in front of him. The sheer sight of his handsome face takes my breath away. “Take it all away. Mark me with your mouth. Your body. Your scent—”
Before the final word escapes my mouth, Isaac pounces. A knee-knocking blur of teeth, lips, and tongue soon have me purring like a kitten. His kiss reflects his hunger. It tells me he’s starved of my taste, and that he’ll never get enough.
The coolness of the countertop gives relief to my overheated skin when he plants my backside where he placed it when we entered the bathroom. Not relinquishing my mouth from his, his hand slithers up my damp, slick skin, only stopping to cup my aching breast. He rolls my nipple between his index finger and thumb, his talented hand turning my breaths ragged in under a minute.
When he slides a second hand beneath the waistband of my panties, the muscles in my stomach bunch. His thumb circles my clit, forcing my back to arch.
“Isaac…” I moan in a breathless pant.
His mouth steals every wispy moan and grunt erupting from my throat. He laps them up as effectively as he toys with my clit, bringing me to the edge so quickly, giddiness clusters in my head. My sprint to release gains momentum like a tsunami. It’s a blinding, soul-stealing pace.
Isaac tugs on my bottom lip one last time before his dedication moves to my neck. My core tightens when he marks my skin with his teeth and lips. I love being claimed by him. Being devoured. Taken.
As his relentless circular pattern on my clit continues, my hips instinctively gyrate. I’m close to toppling over the brink, but my body is yearning for more. It wants more of him—his touch, his smell.
Just him.
Intuiting my needs, Isaac pushes two fingers into my soaked pussy. When he flicks the bud of nerves inside me, my head crashes into the vanity mirror. My body doesn’t register the pain. All it can feel is pleasure. It’s shivering in delight.
Storm clouds form in the sky just as fast as my looming release gathers intensity. It hisses and cracks as effectively as me when Isaac clamps his teeth on my erect nipple. His bite sends me freefalling over the edge.
As his name is torn from my throat, my hands dart out in search of something I can tether to, to lessen the spasms rocketing through my body. After one hand clasps the copper faucet and the other secures a firm hold on Isaac’s shoulder, my pussy clenches around his fingers as I ride the intensity of my awe-inspiring orgasm.
“Eyes, Isabelle. Give me your eyes.”
When I do, he watches me unravel beneath him, loving that my body submitted to him without him removing an article of clothing.
Several fierce, tremoring minutes later, I loosen my grip on his shoulder to tackle with the pearl buttons of his shirt. My movements are frantic and rushed. I’m incapable of thinking rationally when he’s nearby. Pleasure shoots through my core when his trousers and black boxers closely follow the removal of his shirt. As my eyes scan his chiseled body, my mouth dries. It's too perfect to describe. Athletic, yet with a heart-cranking scattering of muscles in all the right places. I swear there's not an ounce of fat on him, except in much-needed regions. His cock is so magnificent, it almost hurts to look at it—thick, long, and mouthwateringly delicious.
After curling his arm around my back, he carries me to the double-headed shower. While he twists on the shower knobs, I nibble on the day-old stubble on his jaw. Once the water is heated to a comfortable temperature, Isaac positions us until we're under the spout of liquid flowing from the copper showerhead.
