"Does this feel like Damen to you?" I barked it out arrogantly, knowing well enough that her delighted reaction to our delicious body friction was a resounding no, but I still went ahead and demanded the question because I wanted her to say it out loud. I needed her to say it, a confirmation uttered from her
own lecherous lips. Her moans were driving me wickedly mad. This hunger to drive her over the edge, into a pleasurable abyss, made me bite her neck. The animalistic rawness of a bite on a woman's delicate neck never failed to produce unparalleled pleasure, certainly making them much more pliable for our intentions.
Just as expected, Isobel produced a scream the second my teeth sunk into her sensitized flesh. It was a sound that made men fall on their knees and indulge the goddess in whatever she desired. A scream that made my cock angry to the point of explosion because it wanted entry to her safe haven.
"Definitely"—she panted incoherently—"not." She sounded lost, suspended from reality while my body did its purpose in delivering her to a place that was the closest a person could be to nirvana. The urge was potent to keep her there, detached from her thoughts, only able to feel. Feel the euphoria I was granting her. Feel how amazing things could be between us if she decided to pursue this road of sensuality with me.
"Hugo..."
The mere sound of her voice calling out to me in such a carnal way made everything inside me constrict with excitement. My hands were on her breasts, but I made them trail over her back from her shoulder blades all the way down to the base of her spine before I palmed the curve of her buttocks, gripping them hard, letting her cunt slide harder against the back of my cock as it sat rigidly between us.
As I gazed admiringly at her, Isobel was lost in the heady and magnified, beautiful sensation we were weaving together. Her reluctance of this magnetic attraction and her slight measure of giving in to me—even though she had been fighting tooth and nail about everything that was related to me—well, this felt mighty triumphant. Yet, even in this short-term triumph, the greater need of wanting it all superseded it all.
This was appetizing, of course it was. I had never doubted my instincts when it came to women, but I wanted her utter and complete surrender without hesitation. I wanted her to want me the way I wanted her. The need had
consumed me since she'd walked in to save her father from destitution.
Generally, as a rule, patience where women were concerned wasn't on my list at all. What man of wealth and power would waste time on such trivial situations when it could be invested in something beneficial? No decent businessman would even toy with the idea. Of course, there were exceptions—if the man in question had a wife and family, then the rules changed.
I could take her like this, with my cock a mere breath away from her opening, and she wouldn't even have a second to deny me because she'd be lost in the pleasure of what my cock would do to her. My dark thoughts prevailed, yet there was something much stronger inside me, insisting that I wait until she commanded me to fuck her because she couldn't fathom another second without having me inside her.
My ego was a double-edged sword. I couldn't make myself thrust my hips into her tight hole. My decisive decision made me curse inwardly, knowing quite well that I would end up having a cold shower while I palmed my cock. When was the last time I've done that? I thought, mocking myself. I couldn't even remember because I had always had women who'd done everything for me. The very thought itself was depressing. When had my life come to such a sad state?
Sex was the only thing I could indulge in... since having a family was out of the equation. It was the only thing that made me sane.
"Ma belle, make me come with you..." I groaned out, needing her to hear the desperation in my voice.
I didn't need her pussy to finish off; she could use her hands, her swollen mouth, or her pussy lips, riding on top of me as she glided her juices against my hot length.
"Hugo... I'm..."
"Touch my cock, mon amant." (My lover.) "Use your other hand to caress my balls..."
Her hands followed direction, gentle yet eager to please. The feel of her hands pressing against my shaft while I thrust against her labia felt too glorious to describe. Her gentleness eventually became harsher as I upped my speed. The warmth of the water sluicing around our motions, the rapidness of our heartbeats as we synchronized together with one purpose, achieving the end, became a whirl of madness until we finally reached our peaks.
Isobel cried out against my lips while I came against her luscious cunt.
I was inhaling her scent behind her earlobe before I breathed out, "Mon Dieu, c'était magnifique." (My God, that was magnificent.)
She laughed huskily before kissing my cheek. "Yes, that sure was."
FOR THE PAST WEEK, I had shared her bed. It was a given that, each night I came to her, we would succumb to our passions. It also became a habit that every morning I'd wake her up with my mouth attached in between her legs.
I was mad for her, and I couldn't, no matter how much I kissed her lips and her body, get enough of it. But even if our passion was unimaginable, she hadn't begged me to go all the way yet. Though I must admit my control was slipping away, I still managed to harness it each time our sexes touched.
Isobel was slowly blooming before my eyes, giving me glimpses of the real woman within her cattiness and pleasant smiles. The woman behind the façade was this bright woman who had a great spirit and laughed madly until she snorted, which of course made her blush with embarrassment, but I found it truly cute and heart- warming. She was different; I had been aware of that from the very beginning. However, her uniqueness had particularly drawn me in to look beyond her appearance. Deep inside, she was as gullible as they come at twenty- three with the perception that life could be all about love and happiness. She rarely mentioned it, but when she did, I knew she was talking about Damen—the man she'd had to forcibly put aside until her obligations were finalized.
I wasn't a man who looked into the future, and I certainly wasn't one who dwelled on past lovers and what might've been, but picturing Isobel's freeing, full-of-life smiles with the man that she longed for made me feel uneasy. Therefore, as much as I could, I tried not to show that I was bothered each time she mentioned his name. She randomly did this while we were having discussions over dinner, aimlessly walking about The Riviera, or even when we were in bed. She'd spout something off about being in school and how life had gotten better since Damen.
I was all for freedom of speech, but sometimes, it would've been perfect if the woman had a filter. There were rules in bed for lovers. One being the fact that no one should discuss current other lovers, or past ones for that matter. Each time she made a comment, it was on the very tip of my tongue to tell her that sometimes it was better off not to even say anything; however, her face would light up, and I, the mad man that I was, simply couldn't resist gazing at her when she looked the very epitome of why God had created the earth and all its entirety. I was almost convinced that, when God had finished his creation, he'd sat back and admired her beauty, feeling most accomplished since a face like hers truly was unrivalled.
"Isobel," I whispered her name as I gazed upon the glimmering sea. I stood in my office, admiring the view before me, thinking about how difficult it was to not fully fuck her body, when a knock came on the door.
"Oui?" I called out as I spun around to see who it was.
"Mr. Julien Geroux is here to see you." My secretary raised her perfectly shaped brow, wondering if she should let my best friend in.
I was about to say something when a sound from the door came through. "He'll see me. Why wouldn't he? I'm not his mortal enemy, now am I? Come off it, Sophie. I'm your favorite." Julien's familiar voice cajoled my newly divorced forty-year-old secretary.
Sophie rolled her eyes as she chastised him for polluting the air inside the building with every breath he took before finally walking away, giving way to let Julien inside my office.
"Ah, how are we today, sir lover boy?" the arrogant fool greeted me with a smirk as he strode across the office and went straight to the bar to pour himself a whiskey.
"What are you doing here, Geroux?" I hadn't been aware that we were meeting today.
He shrugged, taking ahold of his glass, before spinning around to face me with a look I was familiar with. "You should know better..." he started, shaking his head in disapproval. "The pattern that you're on right now." He took a sip of his drink. "Louise..."
Mentioning her name made me feel violent. "Don't you dare start with me, Julien—"
"I dare because I'm a concerned friend. You don't want anything like that attached to your name. Most especially that. You've done so well for a decade. Don't fuck it up now."
He was overstepping himself. "Careful, Geroux." I warned him, but he remained nonchalantly casual.
"Careful." He nodded. "That's the word. You should learn it because, if your twisted luck strikes again, you'd wish that you'd sought the word itself."
My jaws locked, hating every single word that he was jabbing at me. "I would never let anything like that happen again. Never!" I threw at him harshly.
"This is out of our hands, Xavier. We know that," he finished somberly before gulping the rest of his drink, giving me another harsh look. "I like Isobel. She's very nice and quite stunning to look at. But my only concern here is you, Hugo. Do you want to be picking up the puzzle to figure it out just before it's too late again? The aftermath— you barely made it out sane." With that, he left me watching his retreat, racking my brain and wondering if I was in denial or did Julien really have grounds.
I was attracted to Isobel. I wanted her like I had never wanted a woman before, but that was all it was—an animalistic desire to possess a beauty, nothing more.
Julien's concern didn't have any merit. There simply wasn't. It was the bare truth.