Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 90(@200wpm)___ 72(@250wpm)___ 60(@300wpm)
“Look at you,” I murmur, my voice rough with desire. “You’re dripping with me, princess.”
Her body quivers, her hips rocking against my hand as I pump my fingers deeper, harder. She’s soaked, wet and ready, and every time I hit that sweet spot inside her, she cries out, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
“You’re going to squirt for me nice and good,” I growl, my fingers thrusting faster, deeper. “But not yet. Not until I say.”
She whimpers, her body trembling with need, her hands clutching at the rug as she holds herself back, waiting for my command. The control I have over her, the way her body responds to every word, every touch—it’s intoxicating.
“Now,” I growl, thrusting my fingers deep inside her, hitting that perfect spot, and she lets go.
Her body convulses, shuddering with the force of her orgasm, and she squirts, her release soaking my hand, the rug, everything. Her moans are loud, desperate, her body writhing beneath me as the pleasure rips through her.
I watch, fascinated, as her body trembles, as her wetness pools between her legs, dripping from her in waves. She looks up at me, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but I lean down, kissing her softly, my fingers still buried deep inside her. “Did I do okay?”
“I love it,” I whisper, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I love every inch of you. Every drip of you.”
She gasps softly, her breath still coming in ragged bursts, but I smile, pulling her into my arms, holding her close as her body slowly begins to relax.
As the fire crackles softly beside us, I press a soft kiss to her forehead, my heart still racing from the intensity of it all. But even as we lie there, wrapped in each other, I know there’s something I need to tell her.
“My family is coming tomorrow,” I say softly, my voice breaking the quiet.
Her body tenses, her eyes widening. “What?”
seven
Isabella
The morning light bathes Nathan’s mansion in a golden glow as I stand in front of the mirror, smoothing down the silk dress he helped me choose. It’s elegant, far more than anything I’ve ever worn before. The soft champagne color complements my skin, and the fabric clings to my body in a way that makes me feel beautiful—if not a little out of place. The high neckline and cinched waist give it a regal feel, but I feel more like I’m playing dress-up than living in this world.
“They flew their private jet just to meet me?” I whisper, my heart racing as I glance over my shoulder at Nathan. He’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me with that soft, possessive look that makes my pulse quicken.
“They’re excited to meet you,” Nathan says, stepping closer. His hands find my waist, pulling me back against his chest. “You’re the most important person in my life. Of course, they’d want to meet you.”
I swallow hard, my fingers nervously smoothing the fabric of my dress. “What if they don’t like me? What if they think this is all... too fast?”
Nathan turns me to face him, his hands coming up to cup my face. “They’re going to love you,” he murmurs, his voice warm and sure. “And even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t change a thing for me.”
He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, and for a moment, the tension in my chest eases. He has a way of making everything feel simpler, of grounding me when I feel like I’m floating too far away.
I smile, but it’s shaky. “I’m just... nervous.”
His lips brush against my forehead, and he whispers, “Don’t be. I’ll be right there with you.”
The sound of heels clicking on the marble floor echoes through the grand foyer as we make our way downstairs to meet his family. When we step into the room, my heart skips a beat. James, Nathan’s father, stands tall and commanding, his silver hair and sharp eyes making him look every bit the powerful man he is. Beside him, Catherine exudes grace and elegance, her blonde hair perfectly styled, her dress tailored to perfection. And then there’s Henry, Nathan’s younger brother, still in high school but already carrying himself with the same confidence as the rest of his family.
“You must be Isabella,” Catherine says, stepping forward with a smile that’s warm but polished. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
I try to smile back, but my nerves make it difficult. “It’s... nice to meet you,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
As I take a step forward to shake her hand, my heel catches on the edge of the rug, and I stumble. My heart lurches, panic surging through me as I flail for balance. But before I can hit the ground, Nathan’s hands are there, catching me, steadying me.
His touch is firm, reassuring, and when I look up at him, I expect to see amusement in his eyes, but all I find is warmth. There’s no judgment, no teasing—just love.