Page 57 of Haunted Love

I’ve always pictured his hands on my body, his mouth on my skin, and holy shit, it’s so much better than I could have ever imagined. His every touch is like fire against my body, like electricity pulsing between us, and despite barely having started, I realize just how bad this idea was.

I’ll never come back from this, but I’ll be damned if I ask him to stop.

One hand slides up as the other goes down, and my body shudders, not knowing which touch to pay attention to, but either way, I’m lost in a world of bliss. His right hand reaches the base of my throat, and his long fingers close around it, not squeezing hard, but it’s enough to make my heart race. His left hand dips down past my hip and to my core, slipping straight past the fabric of my dress. Izaac cups my pussy over my sheer thong, and I immediately grind down against him, knowing without a doubt he can feel just how desperate I am.

“We’ll take it slow,” he murmurs, the electrifying music daring to drown out the deep tones of his voice, but now that I know it belongs to him, the very sound of it seems to speak right to my soul.

His touch shifts to my shoulder, pushing down the thin strap of my dress as the heel of his palm presses against my clit, slowly circling, making my knees weak. If his strong arm wasn’t braced across my body, I surely would have crumbled by now.

Moving the sheer fabric of my thong aside, Izaac drags his fingers through my wetness, a growl rumbling through his chest and vibrating against my back. “Is this all for me, Little Birdy?”

Oh, God. When he talks like that . . .

My eyes roll to the back of my head as I reach up behind me, my fingers weaving into his hair and holding on for dear life. As my head rolls to the side, his warm lips continue their sensual dance across my skin. “I’ve been wet for you for years, Izaac.”

An appreciative grumble sounds in the back of his throat, and the animalistic tone of it makes my pussy clench just as he pushes two thick fingers deep inside of me. I groan, my breath shaky as I feel him inside me, curving his fingers against my walls.

“Holy shit,” I murmur, my grip tightening in his hair as his hand dances across my chest and to my other shoulder, gently fingering the strap of my dress before pushing it off.

I feel his breath skate across my skin, and I want nothing more than to drown in him as he pushes his fingers in and out while driving me wild with the heel of his palm against my clit. It’s already too much, and he’s barely even started.

How am I supposed to survive this?

Every passing second only gets better. He wanted me relaxed, and I think it’s safe to say he got exactly what he asked for, and me? I’m getting everything I asked for and more.

Holy fucking shit.

Those fingers!

“Izaac, I—”

His hand shifts to the back of my dress, and my words fall away, feeling a cool rush of air hit my skin as he slowly drags the zipper down my back. I release my tight grip in his hair, moving my hand to my chest just in time to catch my dress before it falls.

Then all too soon, he gently pulls his fingers out, leaving me empty as he backs up a step. “Let it fall, Aspen,” he grumbles, the authority in his tone doing wicked things to me.

I’m all too aware that this is Izaac, and despite having paraded around in a bikini as often as humanly possible when he’s around me, this is different. He’s not just seeing my body, but he’ll be taking the sweetest pleasure in it, and instead of looking away from the forbidden fruit like he always has, he’ll indulge in it, lapping up everything I have to offer.

This is the point of no return. If I let my dress fall, there’s no walking away. There’s no changing my mind or taking it back. Once I bare myself to him, neither of us will be able to stop. As I glance back over my shoulder and take in the deep hunger in his dark eyes, I know I’ve been ruined for any man who dares to come after him.

Holding his stare over my shoulder, I watch with increasing desire as I finally release my hold on my dress, letting it fall to the floor. I stand before him in nothing but a sheer thong and my knee-high boots and as he takes me in, a deep growl of appreciation rumbles through his chest.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Step out of it.”

Doing as he asks, I take a slight step forward, stepping over the discarded black dress as my fingers brush across my chest, unable to keep my hands still. My nipples pebble at the touch, and I shudder, knowing this is only the beginning. From here on out, it’s only going to get better.

His tongue darts out over his bottom lip. “Bend.”

My brow arches as a wicked grin begins pulling at the corners of my mouth.

Well shit.

My heart pounds furiously as I begin bending myself in half, my ass high in the air with Izaac’s greedy gaze locked between my thighs. Only he shakes his head. “Uh-uh,” he rumbles, captivated by the sight. “Slower.”

Yes, Daddy!

I slow my pace until I can’t physically go any further, and in this position, I’m forced to keep my head down, unable to see him, but damn it, I sure as hell feel him, especially as he steps in behind me, his hand brushing across my ass and stopping right between my legs. “Now,” he says, that deep tone holding every bit of authority. “Remove your boots.”

The desire pools deep in my core and as I reach around to the back of my boots and find the small zip, Izaac moves the sheer fabric of my thong aside and thrusts his fingers deep inside my waiting cunt. I gasp, my walls contracting around his thick fingers. “Don’t you fucking move, Birdy,” he says, pressing his other hand to my lower back and keeping me still.

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