That smart mouth. Those eyes that saw straight through the bullshit. The way she carried herself like the world had already tried to knock her down a few times and she’d decided to knockit back harder. But she’d been looking at him. Tristan. Every time I showed up— carrying her bag, feeding her, noticing when she was in pain— her eyes kept drifting. And it had pissed me off more than I wanted to admit. Made me meaner. Louder. More of an asshole than I needed to be, because if I was loud enough maybe she’d finally see me.
Now she was here. In my bed. Still slick and trembling from my fingers. And I still wouldn’t fuck her.
That was how I knew it was real.
Because my cock was so hard it hurt, leaking against my stomach, and all I could think about was how tight and hot she’d felt around my fingers. How good it would be to sink into her, to feel her come on my dick instead of my hand. But I couldn’t. Not when she was still a question mark. Not when I was already all the way gone and she was still figuring out if she even wanted to stay.
I loved her enough to wait.
She was pissed. I could feel it in the way her breathing changed, the little tension that crept back into her shoulders. She hated that I’d stopped us. Hated that I’d drawn a line she couldn’t cross yet. But she didn’t pull away.
Instead, after a long minute, she started moving.
Dragged that perfect body down mine. Tan skin sliding over my abs, my hip, slow and deliberate. Her hand wrapped around my cock—thick and heavy and aching—and I hissed through my teeth.
“Isa—”
She didn’t answer. Just looked up at me with those eyes, then lowered her head.
The first touch of her mouth almost ended me.
Hot. Wet. Perfect. She took the head between her lips, tongue flicking over the slit where I was leaking, and I had to lock every muscle in my body to keep from thrusting up into her throat. Shelooked obscene like this—the woman I’d wanted for months, the one who’d been living rent-free in my head since the night we met — lips stretched around my cock, cheeks hollowing as she took more of me.
I threaded my fingers into her hair, gentle even though every instinct screamed to hold her down and fuck her mouth. “Easy, baby. You don’t have to?—”
She took me deeper on purpose, like she was punishing me for saying no earlier. Or rewarding me. I couldn’t tell anymore. The sight of her— that tan skin against my thighs, hair falling forward, eyes flicking up to watch what she was doing to me— burned itself into my brain.
I was not going to last.
Every bob of her head, every swirl of her tongue, every little sound she made in the back of her throat when I hit the back of her mouth— it was too much. I’d been edged for weeks by this girl. By the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t watching. By the way she let me carry her and feed her and touch her like she was already mine even while she kept insisting she wasn’t.
My orgasm built fast and brutal at the base of my spine.
I tried to warn her. Tried to pull her off. But she just hummed around me and took me deeper, one hand stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach, the other braced on my thigh like she owned me.
And she did.
“Isa— fuck— I’m gonna?—”
The words were right there. I love you, baby. Right on the tip of my tongue as the pleasure crested and shattered through me. I almost said it. Almost let it rip out of me while I came hard.
But I swallowed it.
Choked it back.
Because if I said it now— while she had my cock in her mouth and I was coming so hard I saw stars— it would scare the shit out of her. She wasn’t ready. She had to get there on her own. I could love her enough to keep my mouth shut until she caught up.
So what came out instead was rough and filthy and safe.
“Take it, Texas. Fuck— just like that. Take every drop.”
I came harder than I had in years, pulse after pulse, her name a broken groan in my throat. She didn’t pull away. Just kept working me through it, swallowing, eyes closed like she was savoring it. Like she wanted this as badly as I did.
When it was over, when I was shaking and oversensitive and trying to remember how to breathe, she finally let me slip from her mouth and rested her cheek against my thigh. Her breathing was ragged. Mine was worse.
I reached down, brushed her hair back from her face with fingers that still trembled, and looked at her. Tan skin, swollen lips, the faint flush still on her chest. The woman of my dreams. The one I’d been half in love with since the first night I saw her. The one who was still pissed at me for not fucking her when every cell in my body had wanted to.
I loved her enough to wait.
