CHAPTER NINETEEN
He bided his time. Dylan knew that the horrific things they discovered in the five remaining islands still haunted her, especially with the knowledge that it was her younger brother who had made all that come to fruit and would have continued doing so had he not been discovered. He could see the same haunting look in Isaac, a man who hid compassion well behind a cold and ruthless attitude. The cold and ruthless attitude was not a façade, but it wasn’t the only facet in the panther clan leader, and Dylan had to wonder what else was hidden under all that composure.
It was a shame he didn’t get to meet the man under different circumstances, because Dylan had a feeling he would end up liking the fellow more. As it was, whatever camaraderie they had—if one could call it that—was fragile, and he wasn’t banking on it to grow warmer.
Especially not with the things he wanted to do with the man’s sister.
Once they got back to shore and all the children were put under an indefinite recovery period, Isabella grew scarce. She didn’t exactly avoid him, but she didn’t seek him out, either. So he adjusted, talking to her during dinner with Isaac, discussing with her when it came to the children and how they were going to be housed once they were healthy enough to leave. He watched her deal with them with kindness, watched her assassin instincts take a backseat as she cajoled them out of their shells and tried to get them comfortable in their now-temporary home.
And he wanted.
He wanted, like he’d never wanted anyone before in his life. It was verging on painful, testing his patience to the brink and fraying it at the edges. A day before he was scheduled to leave and return to his home, Dylan couldn’t take it anymore. He waited, being his usual pleasant self at dinner. Then, when Isabella excused herself, he found a way to leave a few minutes later, too, and trailed after her until he got to her door, where he was reminded of exactly how close to each other they had been inside that very room.
She didn’t answer on the first knock, or the second, or the third. He couldn’t hear anyone inside her room, and frustration welled up in him that maybe she didn’t come here because she knew he was going to. He stepped back and shook his head, walking towards his room, his thoughts jumbled and wanted to know where she was.
So he could go to her.
He had a feeling he was going to want to go to her all the time now, and the knowledge was thrilling and nerve-wrecking at the same time.
Dylan opened the door to his room.
He stopped.
He stared at Isabella, who had stopped pacing at his entrance and now looked at him with nerves in her eyes masked by cool confidence.
“This attraction between us,” she began without preamble. “It’s not going to go anywhere.”
“Oh?” he replied, closing the door with a quiet click. He didn’t take a step forward, not wanting to scare her.
She nodded, dark brown hair falling to her face. His hand itched to touch it and brush it away.
“We both know it. We both want to act on it and you know what’s going to happen? We’re going to get burned. It would be better if we don’t.”
It took only half of her speech for him to realize what she was trying to do. She was trying to convince herself, not him. The knowledge enlightened him, and he let her go on.
“Are you sure about this?”
Isabella nodded. “Yes. So I came to say goodbye.” Then she made a move to leave, walking towards the door without looking him in the eye.
Oh, no, she wasn’t.
His hand shot out as she brushed past him, her hand on the doorknob. Tingles spread. He waited until her gaze finally met his, turning his body in her direction.
“You know what I think?” he asked.
She stilled. “What?”
“I think if I kiss you right now, you wouldn’t say no.”
Something flickered in her blue eyes, darkening them. He took the risk, even if she hadn’t answered yet, as her lips parted out of their own accord. His thumb settled on her neck, where he felt her pulse—strong, and beating too fast.
His nose grazed her jaw, taking her scent in—intoxicating himself with it. Her breath hitched.
“This is a very bad idea,” she whispered as his mouth skimmed her chin this time, then placed a feather light kiss at the corner of her mouth. “A very bad—”
“Idea,” he murmured, right before he closed his lips over hers.
Her mouth opened. Isabella welcomed him by kissing him back, with none of the hesitation of her words and all of the surety of her body. He reveled in her response as he slid his tongue in and tasted her—the taste that he tried to forget in New York, but had haunted his dreams all the same. It was the same, but so much more, and he let himself sip like she was fine wine, and too much would make him drunk. But he was already drunk as her palms settled on his chest, as a soft sigh came from her throat and made desire rush in his system.
And then he couldn’t have a sip anymore, because he’d been waiting too long and he was tired of waiting.
Dylan carried her to bed, kissing her the whole way. He undressed her like she was a present, eager and anticipatory. She undressed him just as eagerly, and soon their clothes were gone and their bodies were pressed against each other, the heat singeing them both and spreading the fire higher. His hands never stopped moving, memorizing her curves, and his mouth stopped teasing her mouth as it teased other parts of her instead. He tasted every inch of her olive skin until her taste consumed him, latching on her nipple and sucking softly. Still, it wasn’t enough, and so he let his tongue trail further down until it reached her stomach—then, the throbbing core where his fingers were teasing her, wet and slick for him.
Her moans made him feel alive, and so he urged her on, tongue and fingers working together in a fast rhythm that had her sobbing out his name and exploding for him. When she was down from her high, he worked her up again, making her climax for the second time until she was lax and loose. All this time, he’d been ignoring his own desire, which had now built up so high that he could have spontaneously convulsed with it and died a happy man. But she tugged him up insistently, and her hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him over and over until he was shaking.
He positioned his tip at her entrance. Then he slid in slowly, letting her adjust to his length, watching as her blue eyes flared until he was fully to the hilt. Then he was thrusting inside her, first in slow strokes then changing his angle and movement until her hands raked on his back and her legs wrapped around his hips. He pounded inside her with the need that was throbbing in him, and she moved her hips back and welcomed him, pulling him down for a kiss that left him breathless all over again. The wolf inside Dylan howled, and her panther purred in response. Unable to stop himself, he placed his mouth on her throat and sucked as he pistoned even faster.
Then his teeth pierced her skin, and blood flowed out. Her nail raked at his shoulder and drew blood out as well, and she placed her mouth there, a kiss as much as a drink.
He’d found his mate, and she’d found him.
He knew when she exploded again for him as her muscles clenched around him tight. He let her savor it, watching her face in her throes.
A few more thrusts, and he was following her into oblivion.
*****
She stayed with him for the rest of the night, giving and receiving more pleasure until they were both too tired to do so. When he woke up at dawn, she was still there, curled up against him and sleeping softly. He smiled and placed kisses on her hair and shoulder, watching as her eyes fluttered open and met his.
“I’m leaving in an hour,” was all he said.
The smile that was just spreading on her face slid off. She closed her eyes and held on tighter, and the unspoken emotion in them had him bracing for her answer.
When she opened her eyes, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m coming with you.”
He kissed her again and savored her answer. Then he reluctantly let her go, knowing they had to get dressed.
They still had one obstacle to face.
In Brazil, at least.