Page 109 of Sin With Me

With flecks of salt and pepper weaving throughout his thick hair and stubbled beard, Isaac looks every bit his forty-one years, but I’ve never thought of his age before. Not the way I am now.

Since I met him, Isaac’s been there for me. He’s cared for me, protected me. And when Mama passed and Roman left, he kept me. With that one act alone, he became so much more.

More than a friend or a stepfather. More than a guardian.

Just more.

“What’s that look for?” he murmurs, pulling me from my thoughts and mindless ogling.

I smirk and shrug, unwilling to divulge how deep my feelings for him are. It’s silly—childish, even. “Nothing,” I lie. My fingers trace over the soft blanket beneath me, my nerves threatening to choke me. “There’s just one bed.”

I don’t know why I say it, but something inside me needs his confirmation, his reassurance.

Despite the fact that we’ve been messing around for weeks, he’s still yet to readdress the conversation we had after church that day. Even worse, when we’re outside the house, he acts like I don’t exist at all, only to turn around and lavish me with attention the second we’re alone, filling me full of sweet words and cum.

I understand the need for discretion but it’s slowly driving me insane.

Isaac cocks his head to the side, observing me, making me squirm. My skin breaks out in vicious goosebumps. His attention is unnerving.

“Did you want two beds?” he drawls.

“No,” I blurt, and immediately chastise myself.

Way to keep it cool, Eve.

His lip tips up in a quick smile but it falls from his face just as quick. Suddenly, he looks nervous. “I wanted a nice room for you. I know this is your first big trip.” He shifts awkwardly. “Don’t you like it?”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but when they do, the feeling I’ve grown accustomed to wearing like a second skin penetrates my happy bubble once more: guilt.

Of course, there’s only one bed. The hotel is gorgeous, the room is massive and near the top floor. It had to have cost him a ridiculous amount. Two rooms would have been out of the question and I doubt a double room would have had such a lovely view without costing an arm and a leg.

The urge to apologize hits me like a wrecking ball, but I choke it down. I’m smart enough to realize Isaac doesn't do anything he doesn't want to and like he said, he wanted this to be special for me. I’ll be damned if I ruin his surprise.

Pushing off the bed, I let the hem of my long flowy skirt drop to my bare feet and close the distance between us. With my head tilted back, my long hair ghosts the middle of my back, tickling the bare skin between my skirt and crop top.

“I couldn’t have chosen better myself. It’s perfect. I love it.”

I almost say I love you, but stop myself before it can slip out. I’ve told him I love him hundreds of times over the years, but with the shift in our relationship, the words feel like something else all together. Something neither of us is ready to address.

His smile is wide, making my heart flutter chaotically. It quickly transforms to a look I’ve grown to crave over the last few weeks. One promising filthy nights and filthier words. My clit pulses in anticipation.

Isaac presses his lips to mine, letting his fingers trail a delicate path along my collarbone. His touch grows in strength with each agonizingly delicious second until finally, the heavy weight of his hand settles around my throat.

“And how are you going to repay me, sweetheart?” His words are a thick rasp against my lips and I almost moan at the sound. My tongue darts out as I meet his piercing gaze.

I’m not proud of the way my voice shakes as I speak. “I thought you didn’t want my money.” His chuckle is dark and filled with promises I’ve yet to interpret.

“I don’t want your money, I want your mouth.”

This time, I do moan. My body goes lax, my weight heavy against his tightening palm, letting his grip on me keep me standing.

“It’s yours.”

He gives the delicate column of my throat a tight squeeze, cutting off my oxygen. It shocks me as much as it turns me on, and I can’t fight my body’s natural response to panic. My hands dart out, wrapping around his wrist but I don’t pull him off. Not yet.

Isaac watches me, absorbing my reaction as though he’s studying his precious Bible. The lack of oxygen takes me longer than it should to understand what he’s looking for.

With a shaky, shallow inhale through my nose, one that’s practically useless, I go limp in his hands, offering him my submission.

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