Chapter Eight
“It is a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done;
It is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."
Charles Dickens
A Tale of Two Cities
She was soft and gentle and kind and good. She was everything he never imagined having, which was probably why he felt like a thief in the night, taking what he had no right to touch.
But here she was, staring into his eyes after he bared the darkest spots of his soul, asking him to make love to her.
He’d hesitated, fearing this moment would mark the end of them. But now he felt like his life was just beginning.
It seemed an ongoing struggle, coming to terms with the direction his life had taken since St. Christopher’s. After getting off the streets, his days always struck him as a partial illusion, the surreal never amounting to any level of true satisfaction. Discontent had ridden him hard and, after only a short time, he’d lost interest in the games.
But Isadora was everything real. She satisfied parts of him he assumed would die of starvation. She brought him back to life, brought actual feelings to the surface, and made it impossible to hide. He desperately needed to hold onto whatever this connection was they shared.
There was no quelling the desires she stirred in him. From the first time they met, he was captivated by her beauty and knocked back by her personality. She was—to his way of thinking—perfect.
She was so put together. Mature yet childlike. There was an innocence about her that called to him. He wanted to guard it and nurture it and covet it. He loved that others didn’t seem to know that side of her existed.
Equally attractive was her indulgent ambition, the side of her that rose to a challenge like a gentle wind, but built with the energy of a hurricane. She was a force of nature, a woman who redefined beauty and wore sincerity like a second skin. Her intoxicating blend of innocence, boldness, and modesty disarmed him.
He wanted to give her everything, wanted to trust that she wouldn’t recoil as he unveiled his deepest secrets. It was a big step, putting his heart in another person’s hands.
His background was tarnished, but she never judged him for the things that had been outside of his control or the things that weren’t. Her acceptance of him just the way he was, seemed the greatest gift anyone had ever offered. And he wanted to protect that gift, never give her a reason to regret trusting a man who had done nothing to earn her faith.
A carnal fire burned so hotly in his blood, he could do no less than worship her. He wanted no barriers between them, knew in that moment he was crossing into uncharted territory. Maybe they both were and that was why this felt so monumental.
The breath in his lungs left in a rush as he glimpsed her shy innocence, bolstered by refined courage as she reached for him.
He swallowed hard, but couldn’t catch his breath as her towel slid open.
She was so goddamn beautiful, so incredibly loving and caring, he couldn’t believe she’d made it this far without a ring on her finger. Their gazes tangled in a slow smolder that never waned.
His mind jerked back to the start of their evening, a sudden tension locking in his bones as he recalled the look in her eyes when she confessed everything Bishop had offered her. The threat of another man stealing her away made this moment all the more significant.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
His mind shifted through every overwhelming emotion she stirred in him, reluctance warring with want, as he considered how this would change things, make her impossible to give up.
“You’re sure this is what you want?”
“I’m sure.” Her fingers traced over his chest where his heart raced wildly.
She was all white lace and purity. He was a hodgepodge of mistakes, tainted by bad choices and thoughtless actions. If he could take it back, he’d erase every smear on his character—for her.
Shadows passed over her delicate features. Her scent crawled into him, luring him in until her warm mouth met his. A hunger flooded his veins as he pulled her closer, his grip tightening for fear she might slip away.
Take it slow. Don’t rush her…
Her fingers brushed softly over his as she guided his hand upward to cup her curves. Pulling her beneath him, he pressed his weight into her. The rightness of her warm welcome was his undoing and his body trembled with sharp desire.
She gazed up at him, soft and wanton, her lips trailing across his bare shoulder as he pressed his mouth to her thrumming pulse. Stretching her hands onto the downy pillows, her nipples peaked, scrapping sensually against his chest. Her legs coiled with his, his towel slipping away, as the heat of her body burned through him.
“Isadora,” he whispered, wishing he knew how to tell her how much she truly meant to him.
Beautiful, taut nipples beaded tightly, as he trailed his mouth down her throat, breathing in the scent of her hair and delicate skin. His lips grazed her breasts, and she arched into him, her soft, keening breaths building to a staccato call.
Swirling his tongue, his lips closed tightly over the tip. Wet heat dragged hotly over his flesh as her lower body coiled around him, dragging, rocking, tempting…
His kisses traveled lower, skimming down her flat belly, as his body grew heavy, seeking her warmth. He gently nipped her side with his teeth and she giggled, the sound so delicate and feminine his heart nearly buckled in his chest.
The air thickened with the scent of her arousal, driving his senses wild with lust as he pressed a kiss to her hip, brushing his cheek down her thigh and breathing in the fragrance of her there.
He urged himself to take it slow, but everything inside of him wanted her now. His tongue slid in a savoring glide over her clit and she drew in an audible breath, opening for him. He teased her folds with careful strokes, his own body hard and ready, pulsing with anxious need to take her, possess her, make her irrevocably his.
Slow…
She stretched and keened, each kiss coaxing a plea from her lips for more.
His desire built and built, urging him on. His need to possess her was perhaps the most frightening instinct he’d ever known, yet somehow he maintained control.
The yearning to know her heart overshadowed his greedy sense of urgency. He wanted more than just her body. He wanted her soul.
Broken syllables fell from her lips as he stroked her. Her channel tightened around his touch and she came on a breathy sigh, her sex pulsing with soft tremors.
“Parker… Please...”
Sliding up her body, he kissed her long and slow. “Can you feel how much I want you, Isa?”
“Yes.”
His hands trembled as he caressed her face, touched her hair, and stared into her eyes.
“So much.” The raw truth of that statement knocked something loose in his chest. “Never doubt how much.”
Their connection wasn’t one-sided, but her feelings weren’t as developed as his. She had others, a family and so much love surrounding her. He had only her, but he desired the connectivity of a loving family as much as any human being. And he wanted to find that connection with her. In time.
Reaching to his wallet on the nightstand, he situated himself with a condom. The pounding of his heart turned to an erratic drumbeat, not from exertion, but from bearing the weight of this moment, its implication inescapable.
This woman had somehow become his every waking thought, his deepest dream, and his compass in a dark and lonely world. He was falling in love with her, and that sense of falling eclipsed every emotion he knew.
Resting over her, their bodies aligned as he framed her face with trembling hands, brushing her dark, chestnut hair back so he could look into her eyes. Everything inside of him wanted to confess his feelings, but he held back.
Everything he dared to love in the past was stolen from him in the blink of an eye. Saying the words out loud seemed a blatant invitation for a cruel fate to snatch away his happiness once more.
He brushed his lips against hers, trying so hard to show her everything she made him feel without tempting fate. “Look at me, Isa.”
Her lashes flickered and her dark eyes softened. She brushed a hand down his cheek and pressed her lips to his. “I’m with you, Parker. I trust you.”
Knowing trust was the singular, most essential part of love, he let her words settle his nerves. As his fingers curled over her hip, memorizing every slope and curve, his body pressed into her tight heat and his lashes lowered on a deep sigh.
She arched closer as he filled her, a delicate moan crossing her lips as her hands fluttered to his shoulders, nails pressing lightly into his skin.
“You feel so good,” she rasped. “So right.”
Unable to speak, he kissed her jaw, his mouth tracing her rapid pulse as her body tightened in soul-shattering welcome. His head fell to her shoulder as he breathed through the incredible connection.
“Just give me a second.”
Her fingers gently sifted through his hair, holding him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The words weren’t spoken as any real guarantee, but they satisfied his deepest longing to never let her go. His cock swelled as possessive intent unleashed inside of him. She was his and no one was taking her away from him.
He drew back and thrust deep. Her head tipped as she gasped, her fingers scraping down his arms as she pressed closer, taking him even deeper.
Mine.
Hungrily stroking in and out, skin slick, they watched each other closely, an unexamined emotion seeming to pass between them. It wasn’t about reaching the end. It was about savoring the journey. Marking time and claiming his woman.
He cherished every second, loving her well, caressing every exposed bit of flesh until he lost track of where she ended and he began. Heated cries and gasps of pleasure peppered the air. Her sex contracted, pulling him deeper with every flutter, gripping him as he held her trembling body tight. The sultry space warmed around them, cradling them in a sweltering blanket of unrepentant lust.
Mine!
She became an instrument, a beautiful song that kept time to the beat of his heart. Pleading, sighing, calling his name. She was the sexiest woman to ever walk the face of this earth and she was in his arms, taking him places he’d never gone.
He’s never getting her back…
Nerves raw and exposed, muscles quivering, his release left him in the wake of countless shivers. His breath shuddered as their limbs knotted together as one.
It was dangerous to care this much for another person. He’d learned that lesson early on in life. But no matter how he tried, no matter how hard he willed himself to take it slow, he knew there would be no undoing the imprint Isadora left on his soul.
She was an addiction he couldn’t resist falling into, a breaking point between his solitary existence and a possible partnership, a beautiful sense of home felt only in her presence. He’d surrender every pleasure to keep her. There would be no letting go of her. His Isadora.