After last night, being alone with Isabel is driving me fucking mad.

It was fine enough when we were on the run. I had a distraction. I was focused on getting her away from the safe house, and finding us another place to hide.

But now, we’re back to where we were before, with one big difference.

Now, I know how good it feels to fuck her.

It feels like an eternity ago, last night. It’s only been twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four hours since I’ve felt the heat of her, the softness of her. Twenty-four hours since she came all over my cock. Since I exploded on her stomach.

I feel like I’m jumping out of my skin as I shove away from the table after dinner. “I’ve got to make a call,” I mutter, and get outside as fast as I can.

I don’t have to make a call. I’m not due to ring Oz until tomorrow. And anyway, I don’t have a lot to tell him, except that Isabel is safe.

I need to get away and think for a bit.

There’s a small path leading away from the cottage toward the lake. I walk down to the shore and stare out at the water. I’ve never been to one of the Great Lakes before. It’s a calm night, and the waves are larger than I expect. I look across the moonlit water. It’s like an ocean, almost. I can’t see the other side at all. The water crashes against the rocks and sand as it comes into shore.

I lost my head last night. I wasn’t thinking.

I did exactly what I never should have let myself do.

I don’t regret it.

And at the same time, I regret the hell out of it.

Fucking Isabel makes everything more complicated. It clouds my judgment regarding every decision I make from here on out about her. I can’t afford to have feelings for someone I need to protect. I know that.

I can’t afford to trust anyone but myself here.

The closer I get to Isabel, the more danger we run that I’ll make a mistake.

“It can’t happen again,” I say out loud into the still night air.

But even as I say it, I know it’s a lie.

I can try to stay away from Isabel. But I know it’s too late. Every minute I try to resist her is just one more minute closer to the inevitable moment when I take her again.

When I get back in the house, Isabel’s closed up in the bathroom. The dishes from dinner are put away. A wave of fatigue hits me, but I fight it off. I think about making some coffee.

Isabel comes out into the main room. She’s dressed in a simple white T-shirt and jeans, her hair tied up loose, so that some strands of it fall around her face. She looks beautiful. So beautiful that it’s almost hard to look at her, but even harder to look away.

“You look tired,” she says, coming up to me.

I shrug off her concerned frown. “I’m fine,” I reply. “Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll stay out in the living room.”

“You’re not going to try to stand guard all night again?” she asks in disbelief. “Thorn, you haven’t slept in almost two days.” When I don’t answer, she tries again. “How can you protect me if you haven’t had any sleep?” she points out. “You can’t do this forever.”

I see what she’s doing. She’s trying to appeal to my sense of reason.

“How can I trust you not to do anything stupid if I’m not awake to stop you?” I retort. I’m not really angry at her, but anger is the only shield I have against my mounting desire at having her so close.

“What could I possibly do out here?” she challenges, taking another step toward me.

“The office isn’t far away. How do I know you won’t make a run for it and go to them for help?”

Isabel lets out a breath and laughs softly. “I’m not about to go anywhere, Thorn,” she says, her voice quiet. She looks up at me with those deep brown eyes. “I don’t have anywhere to go. And I know I’m safest with you.”

My cock tightens as I watch the pulse in her neck. It’s fluttering like a hummingbird’s. “That’s exactly what someone who was planning to run would say,” I rasp.

The air around us seems to still.

“Why don’t you just tie me up then?” she says breathily. “So I don’t try to escape?”

Her eyes are still locked on mine. I see her lids flutter. Her olive skin flushes. Fuck. She’s baiting me. We’re not talking about her running for it anymore.

She’s pissing me off. I want to make her pay for what she’s doing.

I want to make her beg.

I brought rope with me, throwing it into my bag mostly out of reflex just in case. But there’s no time for that now. Before she can react, I reach down and lift Isabel in my arms, carrying her into the bedroom. I hear her breath catch in her throat, half-apprehensive, half turned on.

I throw her on the bed, and then I’m stradding her, my cock straining against my zipper. I grab her wrists with one hand and pull them over her head. With the other I undo my belt. I wrap it around her wrists, and roughly yank on it to tie it to the bedframe. All the while, Isabel keeps staring at me with a hungry challenge in her eyes. Her lips part. Her breasts rise and fall rapidly.

I stand up, undoing the button and zipper on my jeans. I take out my thick, stiff shaft and palm it.

“You’re fucking maddening, you know that?” I growl at her hoarsely.

“I could say the same about you,” she pants.

I begin to stroke myself, slowly, deliberately. Isabel’s eyes are on me. She arches her back. Her hips thrust involuntarily.

“Thorn,” she moans.

I know I’m fucking up again. But it’s impossible to care.

Isabel is tied up and waiting for me, like the Christmas present I always wanted. She’s all I can see, all I can smell, all I can feel.

I’m going to make her beg.

My dick throbs. A bead of precum shines at the head. Fuck, it’s gonna be hard to take this slow at first.

Her jeans slip off easily. Isabel lifts her perfect ass and shimmies her hips to help me. Her T-shirt proves to be a problem, as her hands are bound, so I reach to the bottom of the shirt and rip it off her. She gasps, but keeps her eyes fixed on me as I pull the fabric away and toss it to the floor. I yank off my own T-shirt and kick my jeans to the floor before kneeling back down on the bed and straddling her again. My cock is pulsing, rising and falling just above her stomach. Isabel licks her lips, and I raise my hips up so she can take the head in her mouth.

Isabel’s warm, wet lips envelop me. Fucking Christ. It’s agony. It’s perfect. Keeping her eyes on me, she swirls her tongue around the hot skin, licking and tasting. Her eyes flutter half-closed and she moans. I raise my hips a little more and she eagerly takes me deeper. I want to keep going like this, fuck her mouth until I explode down her throat. It takes everything I have to thrust slowly, controlling myself, until I feel my balls start to tighten and I have to back off. Pulling away, I stifle a groan, and slide myself back between her parted thighs.

“I’ll teach you to challenge me,” I growl thickly.

“Do your best,” she gasps.

“Quiet,” I command. “Or I’ll be forced to shut that smart mouth up for you.”

Her eyes flash, as though she’s going to talk back, but I reach between her legs and slide a finger across her wet, waiting clit. She moans and throws her head back. Isabel arches her hips toward my touch, wanting more. I back away and she whimpers.

“What do you want, Isabel?” I rasp. Her only response is a low moan. “Tell me. I want to hear you say the words, Isabel.”

“I…” she pants. “I want… you. I want more. What we did last night.”

“What did we do last night?” I urge.

Isabel’s face flames. “We… you fucked me. You made me come.”

“That’s what you want? You want me to make you come?”

Isabel squeezes her eyes shut. She nods frantically. “Yes,” she whispers.

“Say it, then.”

“I want you to fuck me, Thorn. Please, make me come.”

My dick feels like it’s going to explode. Watching that smart mouth beg me. Seeing her breasts heave with desire. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to do without Isabel in my bed when this is all over. I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want her.

But for now, I do what I’ve learned to do, when faced with the unimaginable. I block it out.

For now, I take what’s mine. And for now, what’s mine is Isabel.