Page 49

“What is it?” I ask in a much softer and a tad more wary tone.

“I don’t understand what’s happening here. I got the sense it bothered you that your friend was talking to me, but I’m not sure why.”

“Talking and touching,” I mumble.

I know that man and how women fall at his feet. With those silver eyes and his effortless good looks, he can seduce the panties off a nun. The image of them together has me thinking about grabbing the cuffs so that I can bind Isa to me, even if only for the night.

Isa doesn’t push for more of an explanation. And to my surprise, she settles toward the middle of the bed. I turn out the light and pull her close to me, spooning my body around hers. When her body relaxes into my hold, the caged beast that paces behind my ribs finally settles.

“I’m not interested in him, Elio.” Her quiet voice hangs in the darkness.

She’s trying to reassure me. Is it because I’m her captor or because she genuinely cares how I feel? Either way, it’s a step in the right direction.

“If that’s the case, show me,” I say into her hair.

“What do you mean?”

“Show me that I mean more to you than him.”

“How?”

My next words are hardly more than a breathy plea. “Let me touch you.”

Her breath shudders in my hold. “You are touching me.”

My hand slides down from her waist slowly toward the apex of her thighs. I pause, my heart pounding in my chest. “Here. I want to touch you here.” I wait to go any further until I’m certain she wants it. I hold too much power over her in our current situation to make assumptions.

Slowly, her knee rises, butterflying her legs open.

Still, I don’t move.

“I need to hear you say it, Isa.” My ragged words scrape through the night air.

“You can touch me … down there.”

I hear a tinge of wonder mixed in with trepidation and excitement. It’s a strange sentiment that I don’t understand. I’m not sure there’s anything I do understand about this woman who seared a place for herself in my soul so many years ago.

Finally, I slide my hand beneath her panties, moving slowly as we relearn one another. I cup her at first, simply sliding my fingers on either side of her outer lips, with just enough pressure to press them together and stimulate her clit within.

I crave her body’s response to my touch. Every shaky breath. Every arch and muffled moan. When I finally slide my fingers between her lips, I’m met with a flood of arousal.

“You feel that, pet? Feel how much your body wants me?”

She nods with a whimper.

“You want me to slide my fingers deep inside you, don’t you?”

She nods again, but this time I give her clit a tiny pinch. “Words, Isa. Give me your words.”

“Yes, Elio. I want to feel your fingers inside me.”

“Mmm … of course you do, because this body belongs to me. You were made for me.”

I ease my middle finger inside her and am astonished at how tight she is. If she has been with another man since me, it’s been ages. The degree to which I enjoy that is ridiculous.

Curving my finger inside her, I gently roll my palm over her clit and am rewarded when she arches and moans with pleasure.

“Christ, you're perfect.”